THE village of North C. was indeed a dark spot as far as the gospel is concerned. Those who professed to preach God’s glad tidings to men, instead of telling His free grace to sinners, proclaimed a message which demanded works from man in order to obtain His favor, and thus the light of salvation’s gladness could hardly be said to shine amongst its homes. The people―mostly belonging to the brickfields― were very rough, and hard to deal with. We gathered a few poor mothers once a week, to work for the comfort of their families―our chief object, however, being to induce them to listen to the blessed story of the love of God in giving His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, to die for poor lost sinners.
The women were alive and full of energy while the different garments were being discussed and the needles and cotton given out for working, but when the Word of God was read, and His grace pressed home on their souls, all was changed, and they seemed weary and uninterested. However, one or two appeared willing to listen, and after a short time we realized the blessing of the gracious promise, “In due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not.”
Mrs. L., a pale, sickly woman, who had frequently attended the meetings, but who had never seemed really interested, was taken seriously ill. The character of her sickness was such that it was evident she was soon going from among us, and the poor sufferer had not found rest in Jesus Christ.
Mrs. L. seemed to drink in all that was told her of His love, who came to seek and to save the lost, but she could only listen and weep; about her sins the had no rest—no peace.
A day or two after, upon seeing her again, she greeted me with the remark, “I know now I am dying, but I am not afraid.”
“Not afraid” I said, “and you such a poor lost sinner?”
“Oh,” she said, “Jesus has died for me, and I am not afraid.”
Wanting to probe her further, I said, “But, dear Mrs. L., what about all your sins?”
“Oh,” replied she, with unmistakable emphasis, “My sins are all in the blood.”
From that time the poor woman had not a doubt or fear of any kind―all was peace. And more, she had confidence in the Lord that He would take care of her children, and show them and her husband mercy. Her one wish was to be with Him who had died for her.
The morning before she fell asleep, she drew me down close to her bed, saying, “The devil has been here all night. He stood at the foot of the bed; he was so black; and his eyes were like coals of fire.”
“Were you not frightened?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, “for Jesus was up here with me, and I felt as if His arms were tight around me; I was not a bit afraid?”
As she said this, she smiled so sweetly, and her dark eyes, rendered more lustrous by her illness, filled with light and glory. Soon after this she fell asleep in Christ, no shadow having been once allowed to cross her mind since she had seen her sins “All in the blood.”
I shall always remember how bright that little room appeared, notwithstanding its poor scanty furniture, as the weak, suffering woman, so lately born again, upheld by her Saviour’s hands, testified to the completeness of the rest she had found in Jesus, and the longing desire she had to be with Him who had redeemed her and washed her from her sins in His own precious blood. To Him be all the praise and glory forever!
Let me affectionately ask you, dear reader, if you can say with this poor woman, “My sins are all in the blood”? Can you testify, “Jesus has died for me, and I am not afraid”? The time is short, but Jesus is waiting to bless, and He says, “Him that cometh to Me, I will in nowise cast out,” Come, ‘ere it he too late. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” B.