Old John was poor. His home was the smallest of cabins. Poverty was written upon everything in it, from the solitary broken chair and the two rickety stools to the leaky roof. Poverty was John’s excuse— who has not his excuse?— for not listening to the words of the riches of God’s grace and the love of Jesus. He would say to us, “If you were as poor as I am, maybe you’d have other things to think about than what you have been talking of to me.”
And so, instead of listening to the love of God, poor old John used to fret and complain and lie awake at night thinking over his troubles. Old John’s poverty was quite a business with him. He had no time to think of better things: he was too poor!
We longed that the poor man might have something lasting—yea, everlasting—and we read to him how that a man may receive everlasting life, and that not by doing but by believing.
“John,” said we, “believing in Jesus is having; these two always go together in Scripture, and remember, hoping is not having. It does not say, ‘believe and hope’ but it does say, ‘believe in Jesus and have.’”
“Well!” exclaimed old John, “I am an old man, and many a preacher I’ve heard, but I never knew before how to be saved rather hear what you’ve told me than get a bag full of gold.”
The riches of God’s grace began to unfold before the old man’s soul. He saw that the mercy of God extended even to him, just as he was. He believed that Jesus had died for him, and His blood had cleansed away his sins; and this faith brought peace and quiet to his soul.
And now, though old John was as poor as before, he was not fretting and lamenting over his poverty—far from it. “I’m happy, real happy,” he would say.
To test him we asked, “What is it that makes you happy, John?”
“It’s because Jesus died on the cross for sinners, and I believe He died for me.”