One evening last autumn I was on a long journey. The train stopped at a station where all the passengers except me left the coach. Then a man of middle age got in, sat down opposite me and said: "I wish my journey was over.”
"Have you far to go?" I asked.
"Yes, quite a distance," he said. "But," he added, "that is not the worst of it. I expect to find the only one I love, except my two children, dead, when I arrive.”
It was his wife, poor man. His anxiety was intense. He had that afternoon received word of her illness and found that he could not possibly reach her before early Sunday morning.
After a little while I said, "Is she sheltered under the, precious blood of Christ?”
"No sir.”
"Are you?"
"No, sir. I will be honest with you. I believe that if I were to die this moment I would go straight to hell.”
I then spoke to him of God's love to sinners, quoting John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16), and other passages. He replied, "You can't tell me anything I don't know about the Bible, but I can't feel it, here in my heart.”
"Oh! my friend," I said, "you never would feel saved if you lived a thousand years. Salvation is a matter of simply believing God, He says: 'He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.'”
With intense anxiety and with tears rolling down his face he said, "Oh, I would give all I possess to enjoy the peace you seem to have.”
I answered: "Christ hath made peace through the blood of His cross. 'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.'”
Receiving no response to the verses, I looked him full in the face and asked, "Do you hate the Lord Jesus Christ?”
"Hate Him, sir! Hate Him? Do you mean h-a-t-e, hate?”
"That's exactly what I do mean," I said.
"Ah, no," with tears filling his eyes, he replied, "why, He is everything to me, and has done everything for me.”
"Well, then, my friend," I continued, "while you are traveling tonight, through the silent hours, think of Him 'who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree.' He is now at God's right hand in heavenly glory. Just think how you have grieved His heart with all your wretched unbelief.”
As the train was nearing my station, I took his hand in mine, and said, "Good-by! Perhaps I will never meet you again.”
But he answered unsteadily while tears filled his eyes: "I shall meet you above.”
I reminded him that a little while before he had told me that he would be in hell. I added, "By the grace of God I shall never be there.”
"Oh," he said, "I do believe, I do believe; and I shall meet you above." So we parted; but I expect to meet my fellow traveler one day in my Father's house above.