A Triumph of Grace.

Listen from:
“POOR Fannie is dying,” said a young factory girl; “and the saddest thing is, she is not saved. Her mind is set on being married, yet she lies in the hospital sinking with rapid consumption, and there is not one among her friends who will tell her the truth. Will you go and break it to her, for it is cruel to let her die thus?”
“Let us first pray about it,” said I, and we earnestly sought wisdom from the Lord to speak to the poor young girl.
I hastened to her bedside and saw it was too true that death with his cold grasp was near. A voice seemed to whisper to me, “There is not a minute to lose; tell her of the Lord Jesus before it be too late.”
“Your friend, Martha, asked me to come and try to comfort you, my dear Miss Harris,” I said to the sufferer. The poor girl smiled, and with my help raised herself on the pillow, then with much painful effort slowly said, “Tell Martha, with my love, that I am much better—O, yes—I am better —stronger—and shall soon be well.”
She stopped for a few minutes, coughing and gasping for breath, and then looking at me very earnestly, continued,
“I am engaged, and I must be married. Everything is ready, my home and my dress, everything,” and her large, deep blue eyes filled with tears, while a hopeful anticipation expressed itself upon her countenance.
Gently taking the small wasted hand, I replied as tenderly as I could,
“Married, my dear, but not on earth! You surely mean you are of the Bride of Christ.”
“O, no!” she quickly interrupted, “you don’t understand me. I am engaged, and must be married. It has been put off several times on account of my health, but now it is quite settled, and as soon as I leave this place I shall be his bride.” The exertion of speaking then overcame the sufferer, who fell back upon her pillow.
Some minutes passed before I could reply, so sad was it to have to undeceive the dying one. At length I said:
“Fannie, dear, we cannot fight against the settled purposes of God; and if He has determined otherwise, and is about to call you from this earth, would you not rather seek to belong to Christ, to be dressed in the wedding garment of divine righteousness, and to dwell in the home above? My dear girl, you cannot possibly live long; I solemnly believe your days are numbered. I implore you not to waste your few precious remaining moments in indulging in a dream which cannot be realized.” I could not refrain from weeping while speaking thus, and at the same time I silently asked the Lord to cause the poor deluded one to believe in Him.
“Don’t you think that God can make me well if He pleases?” replied Fannie. “The doctors here say I am better.”
“My dear, it is a great pity so very few doctors have the courage to tell their patients the truth,” was my response, and then after praying with her I left.
What a terrible struggle passed within this poor sufferer’s soul as the fact of death being near forced itself upon her! And not only was it the truth of her position as dying, but also her state as a sinner in God’s sight, which became real to her mind. Yet so tenderly and graciously did God work in her, that she meekly bowed to His will, and surrendered every cherished earthly hope. Can our reader answer, What was the power which enabled this dying girl thus to bow to God’s will? God poured into her heart His own sustaining grace. He showed her by His Spirit that Christ died to save sinners and to bring them to Himself. He established her soul in the solid and enduring blessedness which there is in Christ. Hence she was enabled to surrender her cherished dream, and her longed for earthly expectations.
It is not, perhaps, to one in dying circumstances that we now appeal, but it is, nevertheless, to one whose joys must necessarily wither and decay, for all is vanity and vexation of spirit here. The prattle of the child will cease; the pleasant tones of the parent’s voice will be hushed; the song and mirth of this life will ere long be silent in the grave. Where then is peace, solid, enduring? Are your joys, beloved reader, those which this world gives, but only to take away? Or, have you, in Christ, “joy unspeakable, and full of glory”?
A little while before her spirit was called away, Fannie said to me, with a smile lighting tip her face, “I am going to be with Christ, and that is better than being a bride on earth. I am happy, longing to go to Him. Alas! how blind I was. Thank you for telling me the truth.” We gave each other a farewell kiss, and shortly after my friend went to be with the Lord.
“In Thy presence is fullness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.” (Ps. 16:11.)
ML 12/03/1916