Ain't It Nice!

 •  5 min. read  •  grade level: 6
A mechanic and his wife had taken a poor sick woman into their house. She had been turned out of her own home, because she could not pay the rent. When I went to visit her I was invited to enter the sick room and I found her lying upon the bed— a woman past middle life, far gone with a terrible disease that was literally eating her life away. She was wan and thin. Her face was marred with pain, and plowed into deep furrows with suffering. She was moaning with such agony that for a while I could not speak to her. Taking her thin hand in mine, I sat by the bedside.
I then said: "My poor woman, I am sorry to see you so sick and suffering so much."
"Yes," said she, "I am sick, and I am suffering more than I can tell you. Oh, the pain is so great, but it can't be for long, I think."
"And are you at peace with God?" was my next question.
With this, a look of sorrow and soul-distress spread over her face; and turning her troubled eyes away from mine she said despairingly: "No, no, I have not yet made my peace with God, and I am too sick to do it now; I am in such pain that I cannot even think for long at a time. Oh no, I have not made my peace with God."
Then in a few detached sentences, she betrayed the confused teaching she had received upon the whole subject of salvation by grace through faith. All she knew was so mingled with despair that my heart was greatly moved.
I waited till she was quiet, and then said kindly and softly to her: "I have some good news to tell you."
"Good news for me?" she said. "There can't be any good news for such as me; but pray, what is it?"
"Why, that you have no need to try and make your peace with God."
Upon this, she turned with a quick, eager glance toward me, and said: "What is that you say, sir? And what do you mean by saying that I do not have to make peace with God?"
Just as quickly, I answered: "I mean this: that peace with God has been made by another, and I have come to tell you about it. But first, let me say that you are quite right in saying that you are too sick to try and make your peace with God. Even if you were ever so well, you could not yourself make peace with a justly offended God. But God Himself has, through the sacrifice of His only begotten Son, opened up a way by which you can obtain peace with Him. Jesus Christ is our peace! He came into the world to be a propitiation for our sins and iniquities, and is now entered into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us."
Then as simply as I could, I sought to explain to her God's plan of salvation. I told her how that Jesus had come into the world to save sinners. I explained that God made Him who knew no sin, to be sin for us, and had laid upon Him the iniquity of us all. I repeated Isaiah 53:5, telling how He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities, and the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed.
I reminded the listening woman that He bore our sins in His own body on the tree, where He died, the Just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.
Then opening my Bible, I read to her from Colossians 1:20, that Christ had made peace for us by the blood of His cross; and from Ephesians 2:14, that Christ is our peace. Now Christ, having made peace for us, once for all, by the sacrifice of Himself on the cross, is offering it to us freely— on the simple condition of our accepting it in the simplicity of faith.
And so I said to her: "Do you not see what God in Christ has done for you? He now can, as it were, say to you, "You, poor helpless sinner, you have no need to try and make your peace with me! Only believe in what has been done for you, and rest contented there."
During all this reading and explaining, she had regarded me most intently and eagerly. Indeed, so great was her interest that she had raised herself partly on her elbows, resting her forehead on her hand. When I had finished and was prayerfully waiting to see the effect the "Word" was having upon her, she said earnestly: "Oh, sir, would you read again to me about the peace?"
Gladly I went over the scriptures again. Her eyes closed with my last words; the tears trickled into and down the deep furrows of her pain-worn face. A sweet restful smile came about her lips, and laying herself down, she said again and again: "Ain't it nice! Oh, ain't it nice, that the Son of God should come into this world, and die, to make peace for the likes of me? Ain't it nice? Oh, ain't it nice?"
I arose softly, and left her with her newfound Savior and peace.
As I went away from that house, my own eyes were full of tears, but my heart was full of joy and the peace that passeth understanding. I was saying to myself, as I have hundreds of times since: "Ain't it nice! Oh, ain't it nice? that the Son of God should come into the world and die to make peace for the likes of me, simple and unworthy me! Ain't it nice?"