I was a young man, lately arrived in Australia from England, and had not yet learned my way around. One evening (having lost my way) I was wandering in the bush. Suddenly I saw a light, and making for it I found myself at a large farm. The farmer answered my knock, and I asked permission to pass the night under cover. Somewhat grudgingly he said: "You can go into the barn if you like; but there is someone there already."
So, being in want of shelter and rest for the night, I thanked him and went into the barn. By the light of a lantern I saw another man lying in a corner coughing violently. Putting down my gun and shooting-bag, which was my only luggage, I went over to him. Sitting down by his side, I asked him if I could do anything for him.
Speaking with difficulty, he told me he was an Englishman, and I found he had attended the same university as I. In early life, having disgraced his family by his wild ways, he had been sent out to the colonies. There he had continued to lead a dissolute life for five and twenty years; but now he felt sure he was about to end his earthly journey. Did I know anything about the hereafter? This was his query as he was anxious to find out what was going to become of him after death. I was then totally a stranger to God and His grace, unconverted, a man of the world. Utterly careless of the eternal future myself, I said I thought the Bible was what he needed.
"Oh!" said he, "the Bible! Why, my mother put one in my box when I left home. I have never opened it.
Will you go and get it out and bring it here?"
I went to his little trunk and got the Book and brought it to him. "Now," he said, "where are we to turn?" and we both confessed we did not know.
"Well, clap it together," he said, "and see where it opens."
I did so, and the Book opened at Isaiah 53. I began to read: "He is despised and rejected of men; a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief," and the dying man asked me, "Who is He?"
I hazarded the guess, "It must be Jesus Christ."
"Ah," he said, "go on"; and I read slowly until I came to the words, "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way..."
"Stop," he said; "that's me, that's me! That's just what I have done all my life."
After a little while he said, "Go on."
"And the LORD hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all."
"Ah," he said, "Jesus Christ"; and then a minute or so later, "Read it again."
"All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all."
He lay back on the straw and I quietly read on, turning over the pages. Then I found some passages about Jesus Christ in the Gospels. After some time he asked me to leave him and go to bed. This I did, and was soon fast asleep.
In the morning the beams of the sun were making their way through the boards of the barn when I awoke. Going over to the place where the sick man lay, I saw there was a change in him. His face seemed to have caught some of the sunbeams, he looked so happy and peaceful; no cough, and he appeared to be quite at ease.
I did not understand what had happened but he said to me: " 'The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquities of us all'—on Jesus Christ, my Savior."
He told me that in the night it was as if the Lord had come to him and showed him His hands and side. The sick man said, "He died for me. I know it, and now all is joy and peace."
Thus the Spirit of God, active in grace, encircles the globe, overcomes all obstacles, brings to bear the particular verse of Scripture at the particular time, and illumines the soul as to Christ. Reader, may you be led by the same Spirit to know and confess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.