One cold, rainy, winter afternoon I came from work and went up into the little bedroom to see how my darling was. Sitting there by her side, and knowing how ill she was, I asked her if she was afraid to go, and she said, ―
“Oh no; I am not afraid of going the way Jesus went―to the place to which Jesus has gone.”
Then I told her how Jesus would receive her, and how I loved her, and how sweet, and meek, and beautiful she had always been: and she said softly and sweetly, that that gave her no comfort, but quite the contrary; that it made her happy to know I thought she was all this, but she could not think it of herself. And she asked if I remembered that text, “Since thou wast precious in My sight, thou hast been honorable, and I have loved thee” (Isa. 43:44Since thou wast precious in my sight, thou hast been honorable, and I have loved thee: therefore will I give men for thee, and people for thy life. (Isaiah 43:4).)
Then she said, “I know I am precious, but it is because Jesus thinks so. You know, father,” she continued, “I don’t see these things as you see them. It is my infinite Saviour who comforts me; He takes me just as I am. I have given up even wishing I was better. I cannot think myself good, but I am precious in His sight, and so I am honorable, and He loves me!”
How I remember all these words of my sweet Polly! But they came very slowly through her quick breathing. I remember I tucked the bed-clothes round her, for she said she was very cold. Then she said it was very dark, but she would not let me leave her to get a candle; and the room was dark, although I remember the moon was just rising, and shining through the boughs of the wintry trees just outside her little room. Suddenly she started up in bed, laid her dear, little, beautiful head on my shoulder, and said―
“It’s all light now, father-no candle, no light of the sun!”
I tried to take her hand in mine, it was so cold, and she murmured, “Dear father— precious in My sight―thou hast been honorable―Jesus, Jesus―precious in Thy sight—precious!” And her head fell back―my darling little daughter was a lump of cold clay. Ah! do you not say in your inmost heart, May my last end be like this?
You may think it unlikely, yet it is quite within your reach. You have but to believe in Jesus Christ―that He came into the world with the wonderful purpose of redeeming your sinful soul—of making you, who are “dead in trespasses and sins,” honorable, lovely, pure, holy.
Come to this wondrous Saviour who so loves you. Come in all your vileness. He is willing to wash you clean in His precious blood. Yes, come; just as you are. Nothing in the world that you can do can make you the least bit better, so there is no use in putting it off. Accept Him at once as your Saviour and Lord. Do not foolishly resist with that proud heart of yours. Let His great eternal love draw you, and you will never repent your choice.
You are so precious in God’s sight that He did not spare Christ’s all-precious blood to save you.
Grudge not, then, to take such love, and give your little all in return, a heart full of love and gratitude for this, His “unspeakable gift.”
Cheyne Brady.