ONE bright afternoon, some few years ago, a young girl stood at the window of a pleasant sitting-room watching the sun as it slowly disappeared in the west, and, as she watched it, one great longing desire arose in her heart and expressed itself in these words, "O God, when wilt Thou convert me?”
All around her was beautiful, all spoke of the goodness of God; but to His love she felt she was a stranger. A few Sundays before she and her sister had been called into their mother's room to thank God for the conversion of one of her brothers. The mother rejoiced that three out of her eight children now knew Christ as their Savior, but while she thanked God on behalf of the three, she cried to Him to have mercy speedily on the five others who were still unsaved.
C.'s tears flowed fast as the mother poured out her soul in praise and prayer to God; she was glad that her brother was happy, but the thought of his happiness only made her long more for the aching void in her own heart to be filled.
And yet C. knew something of happiness, for God had given her loving parents, and her earthly surroundings were such as might well gladden her; but all this was not enough, for God had awakened a desire in her heart to know the Lord Jesus as her Savior, and she could not rest. Still she went on day by day proudly, speaking to no one of the great sorrow that was in her heart; yet, in her ignorance, crying to God to meet her in some way. Little did C. think how He was waiting to be gracious, and for her to surrender herself to Him.
Shortly after the circumstances thus described, C.'s mother received a letter from an earnest evangelist, proposing that he should come to the place in which they lived and give some Gospel addresses. This proposal was gladly agreed to. C. then cried to God that He would make this preacher, whom she had never seen, the means of bringing her into rest.
Upon the night of his arrival, having heard that C. and her sister taught in the Sunday school, he asked if they loved the Lord Jesus, and receiving no answer, added, "How can you try to tell others of what you know nothing yourselves?" Then, as they were still silent, he went on to speak of that love, and to tell them how that the Lord Jesus was waiting to receive and welcome them. During the Gospel addresses this one question kept ringing in C.'s ears: "How can you try to tell others of what you know nothing yourself?”
Yet at the same time there arose in C.'s mind a vision of all that, as she thought, she might lose by coming to Christ; so she tried to laugh off the effects of the conversation with another young friend who was staying in the house. This succeeded for a time, but at last the little parry began to separate, and C. went round to say good-night. When she came to the preacher of the evening, she paused, for his words, "How can you try to tell others of what you know nothing yourself?" came back to her with great force. She felt convicted in God's presence, and walking hastily out of the drawing-room, hurried up to her room, knelt down, and there alone with God she unburdened her soul to Him.
What did she say to Him as she knelt there? She scarcely knows herself; perhaps not much, but God saw the bitter tears of real humiliation which she shed, and God had much to say to her.
A deep tide of joy poured into her soul as she believed God had received her, the weary, restless one, and had made her His own for time and for eternity. She need no longer go about sad and discontented, for He had made the storm a calm. His own presence had dispelled the gloom once and forever from her heart. She rose from her knees, knowing that she was forgiven, and had been welcomed by the One who promises never to cast out those who come to Him. It pleased God in His mercy to bring C.'s sister also to Himself that evening, and a few hours later the mother and the two daughters knelt together again. But this time the mother was not praying for the conversion of the dear ones beside her, but was thanking God, with tears of gratitude, for thus bringing two more of those children who were so precious to her to Himself.
Two years later it pleased God to take that dear mother home, but not until He had made her cup of joy run over in seeing all her eight children brought to Himself.
Several years have slipped by since the events mentioned in this simple little paper took place. Does C. ever regret that evening, I when, alone with God, she forsook the service of Satan, and was received by God? Oh, no; nor will any do so who come to Jesus. "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.”