I SUPPOSE there is not a little boy or girl anywhere who does not like to go to the sea; to watch the white crested waves rolling in, to dig with wooden spades in the golden sands, or look for bright-colored sea-weeds, or lovely sea-anemones in the pools amongst the rocks. But I think what I liked best at the sea was to watch the waves steadily advancing, till they reached a high reef of rocks, and then it was they looked so lovely. If the tide were rising and the wind high, then the spray rose highest and pleased me most. It looked nearly alive.
You can understand that I wished to see the reef where all this happened myself. So one day, when the tide was out, my sister and I resolved to make the venture. It looked so easy and safe. We never thought of danger, still less of going into it. So we started, going down a zig-zag stair in the cliff—that was not hard—and then we jumped from rock to rock, and, in a few minutes, climbed up first one ledge of rock and then another, gradually getting higher and higher, till we reached one of the lofty peaks we could see from the beach. I remember it all so well though it is so many years since it happened. Then we sat down, facing right out to sea; the sun shining brightly, and the rock towering high above us. I never could remember how long we stayed, but it must have been for more than an hour. At last we thought it time to go borne.
We had failed to remember that each ledge of rock which led back to the zig-zag stair, became lower and lower, nearly to the level of the sea, and that each tide would cover the rocks we had crossed. It was quite plain as we got on to these lower rocks that the tide had risen and was coming in very quickly, covering the flat rocks of our path. We could not see one spot where we could cross to the higher rocks, leading to the cliff path. We were puzzled what to do. We could not stay where we were; we dared not venture on the high reef again, for even it sometimes was nearly covered by the sea. What should we do? Ah! how God takes care of His children. A gentleman had seen our difficulty, though we had not seen him, and in a clear voice called to us, "There is a safe way on here!" and he pointed with his outstretched arm. Yes! there it was indeed, safe, dry, easy; just the one way off the rocks. We crossed and were safe. We wished to thank the gentleman, but when we got to the top of the cliff he was gone.
You will say, "What a kind man!" Yes; he was kind indeed. But what if we had not taken the safe way he pointed out. And it was the only one! "Oh," you say, "you would have been mad. What else could you do? “Ah, yes; what else! And yet, when the Bible tells us to come to the Lord Jesus for salvation, to wash us from our sins in His blood—to come just as we are, as sinners, and He will save us—how many fail to come!
Ah! surely, dear children, you do not listen to the account of all this love and say, " It is nothing to me." Remember, like the rising tide on the rocks, there is no time to wait—death may come at any time. A dear little boy I knew, not more than nine years old, died lately. He learned of Jesus' love. He is with Him now—so happy—so blessed! I love to think of him. You may meet him in heaven, for there is room for all—a welcome for all there. Everybody washed in the precious blood of Jesus will meet there. But, remember, if you stay where you are, in your sins, if you try any other way of salvation, you will be lost forever. There is just one way. May God by His Spirit lead you to it, for Jesus' sake.