There Is Time Yet

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 6
 
LITTLE did he, who said the above four words, think that his days were numbered, and that life, promising length of years, was to be cut off in the freshness and vigor of youth. It was my last interview with F—. We had been boys together, and when at school a companionship began which proved inseparable. As time advanced we both launched upon the great struggle of life, in which so many lose their all, and too many their souls.
F—chose a seafaring life, and we separated; but no distance dissolved the tie which had for so many years bound us together. Often did we think with joy of each other, of the pleasant past, and of the bright future, caring little for more than what the present afforded. True, we each had parents, possessing true Christian principles, who had taught us from our infancy to value that precious Word which is able to make us wise unto salvation through faith in Christ, and often had the tender and pathetic tale of the love of the Lord been whispered in our ears. These early lessons, I am bold to say, left traces of unspeakable value, though the mere knowledge of these things can never suffice for the salvation of precious souls. Far more is needed than mere head knowledge, or historical belief in Jesus and God’s love. But to hear the sweet story sounded, even at a time when the listlessness of childhood gives no encouragement for its recital, is sure to bring its own reward. This was proved, by the grace of God, to one of us, for hardly had fifteen years rolled away, before my soul began to be personally interested in that precious gospel which, though preached to all, must be believed individually.
Years had passed since the day F—and I parted. We met again, and for the last time in November. God having found me, I was desirous that my friend, too, should taste that the Lord is gracious. I pleaded with him, reminding him of that grace which had protected him from many a danger on the deep, and from many a snare on land—of that voice which called repeatedly and patiently, but which had, up to the present time, been unanswered. Ah, yes, and of the beseeching attitude of God, pleading with his soul! But, alas, all was in vain! He thought there was time enough to consider these things, and that the bed of death was the most fitting place for such serious contemplation.
Reader, are such your thoughts? Has it never entered your mind that the morrow’s rising sun may shed the brightness of its rays upon your lifeless corpse!
Beseeching dear F—seemed labor in vain. “There was time yet,” he said. He left me. Oh, what misgivings as to his safety filled my soul! What doubts as to whether we should ever meet again! What hesitancy to speak the farewell words, lest they should be the last! Strange, that we should think of such things, and yet not strange when we ponder over the uncertainty of our present existence. How sweet to think of meeting those we love on yonder peaceful shore, where, “a parting word will pass our lips no more.” Reader, are you sure of that home; are you prepared for it?
We parted; some few weeks elapsed before I heard of him again, and then it was that reading in our local newspaper, I saw that in the darkness of a stormy night, F—was supposed to have fallen overboard. His body was picked up some few days after the storm.
I fully grant that it is not for us to pronounce on such a case. God alone knows. The word of God cannot be broken, and it distinctly says, “Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God,” and again, “He that believeth not shall be damned.”
My beloved reader, Satan has no more successful opiate than that of infusing into the thoughtless hearts of the young those poisonous words, “there is plenty of time.” And frequently, through deferring, the heart becomes so hardened that the cry is changed for that more awful one, “too late, too late; there is no hope now.”
May God, who is rich in mercy, and delights in saving, give you decision for Jesus. There is no time to lose. What! will you barter away that precious, undying soul for a few moments’ pleasure, and refuse this loving Saviour? Be wise while it is called today; tomorrow may not be. E. J. G.