The late afternoon rays of a summer's sun were fading. In the busy town one who knew the Lord received an urgent message: "Come at once; Mary Cameron is dying, and she is afraid to die.”
These words admitted of no delay to any heart who knew the priceless value of one precious soul, nor to one who possessed the secret which could change the fear of death into a song of triumph. To such a one belongs the cry: "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Cor. 15:55-5755O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 56The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:55‑57).
Eager to speak of Jesus to a needy sinner, His servant hastened to follow the messenger, a young woman, to the place where the sick woman lay. Through narrow streets they went until the guide stopped before a dingy old house. She said: "You will find Mrs. Cameron in the right-hand room on the third floor. You can knock, and go right in, for she will be expecting you.”
The house was one where single rooms were rented. It was crowded with tenants-poor, wretched, and sinful. Haggard faces, etched with deep lines of care, told of the need of Christ for comfort now, as well as for eternal salvation. The visitor's heart ached at the sights and sounds around as he thought, "And for such as these my Lord did die!”
In the room pointed out—the right-hand room on the third floor—a young woman was lying on a low bed. Though apparently dying, her great concern was for her soul. As to the hereafter she had only very dim misty ideas, and to enter it was to her like "taking a leap in the dark." This leap she feared to take.
The poor woman indeed appeared to be dying, and if so, she was dying without Christ. Sitting by her bedside, the Christian visitor whom she welcomed eagerly read to her from God's own Word how Jesus came and bled and died to save just such as she. She listened quietly; she asked for prayer; and earnest prayer went up for her that she might put her trust in the Savior.
Jesus and His love, however, seemed to have no power over her heart. She was afraid to die—terribly afraid to die. She wanted to be assured she would not go to hell, and that was all. About this she was truly anxious. Over and over God's offer of salvation through Christ and His finished work was presented to her. His willingness to save, His desire to have her, were pressed upon her. Her heart was touched and almost she was persuaded.
Beyond the "almost persuaded" Mary Cameron did not get. She wept, she seemed in earnest, she did everything but accept Christ. No further would she go.
Promising to return the following morning, her friend at last left her, praying the Lord on the homeward way to remove whatever hindered that soul, apparently anxious, apparently so near eternity, from accepting the offer of the Savior.
Morning after morning God's Word was read to her with the same results—almost persuaded, never quite decided. Jesus was a Savior to her, but not her Savior. Sometimes the point of decision came so near there seemed but a hair's breadth between her and eternal life. As she lingered on the shores of death, deep anxiety and sorrow filled the heart of the Christian visitor.
At last there came a change. She rallied, and seemed improved as to her bodily health. However, as her strength increased, her interest in the things of the Lord decreased. Soon hopes were entertained of her recovery, and then the visits, once so eagerly looked for, were evidently no longer welcome.
With the prospect of a prolonged earthly life, the woman's desire for eternal life seemed to disappear. Only for death had she wanted Christ. She was afraid to die without Him; but she would rather live without Him. She had only been half-persuaded to become a Christian.
There seemed now every prospect of Mary Cameron's recovery, and it became apparent that, though grateful to the one who had visited her and for kindness shown to her, she no longer had real concern about her soul. The subject once so welcomed by her was now irksome. But her Christian visitor was unwilling to give her up, for he longed with intense desire for the salvation of her soul.
It was with a deep feeling of solemnity that her friend again entered her room. He found her full of the joy of recovering health, but with no note of praise to the Lord. Her mind seemed entirely taken up with plans for attending a fair, which was to be held nearby in about a week's time. Mary was full of the thought of going, since she would probably be quite well by then.
Greatly distressed, her visitor listened, and then solemnly and earnestly put this question to her: "Would you give up Christ for a fair?”
"But I am getting well, I am not dying now," she answered; "and I do mean to be a Christian some day.”
It was the world that had won her heart from Christ. And a poor world it was! A dark little room, miserable companions, poverty and wretchedness everywhere. But it was a big enough world, even at that, to close her heart against the Savior, to shut Him out. Do you wonder at her? Weigh for one moment your own world in the scales of eternity. Are you making a wiser choice? Are you taking anything, everything, this world can give, instead of Jesus, and life eternal in Him? If so, "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Matt. 16:2626For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? (Matthew 16:26).
Mary Cameron chose to give up Christ for "the fair next week," and Satan cheated her even of this poor paltry joy he offered her. The Christian visitor's heart was indeed heavy as he descended the rickety stairs.
Solemnly, as though on the very verge of eternity, with this as her last opportunity, Mary was warned not to risk her eternal salvation for so poor a thing, for this had plainly been the whole reason for her indecision.
It was no new wile of Satan's; he has tried the same with thousands, saying, "Be a Christian, of course, some day, but not today. Do this first.”
Before leaving the now convalescent young woman, her friend had turned back to leave these two scriptures with her: "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation"; and, "Be not deceived; God is not mocked." For a moment once more Mary wavered; but the thought of the fair prevailed. Her decision was made. "I will think of these things another time, but not today.”
A neighboring clock was striking eleven as the Christian went out into the bright morning sunshine. Between three and four o'clock in the afternoon of the same day, he was returning home, still thinking of his morning call on the sick girl, no power even to pray for her; he yet felt quite unable to think of anything else. A voice called to him suddenly: "Have you seen Mary Cameron today?" It was the doctor who had been attending her who spoke, and his manner was grave.
"Yes, Doctor," was the answer. "I suppose she is getting quite well now.”
"She is dying!" was the doctor's reply. He was a man of few words. His only explanation was: "Inflammation, acute. She may not last an hour." He was hurrying on, but turned back to say: "She may not be conscious; but if you can be of any help to her, you had better go at once.”
No second bidding was needed. Hurriedly, tremblingly, the Christian entered that well-known door, "the right-hand door on the third story." There Mary was lying on the same bed where she had so often listened to the Word of God; but how changed now! Her entire appearance spoke of death as she cried over and over, "'God is not mocked.' Too late! Too late!”
Her friend knelt to pray that even now, at the eleventh hour, she might look to Jesus and be saved. His words of prayer were interrupted by a half-struggle, half-shriek—unearthly, appalling. Mary's face was the picture of despair, and agony, and wild affright. With the terrible words, "Too late! too late!" once more on her lips, she passed into eternity.
Only a few short hours before, she had said she "would think of these things another day, not today"; and Satan, the god of this world, could now glory that, for her, that other day would never come.
Dear reader, if you are unconverted still, if you do not belong to the Savior, may you have no rest till you choose Him for eternity. May that choice be like the choice of another Mary of whom the Lord could say: "She hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her!" For what was that choice? To be close to Jesus for all time, listening to Him, worshiping Him; and to be by His side for all eternity!