A dejected man plodded unsteadily toward Lake Michigan. One thought possessed him: he was no longer fit to live; he had sunk too low. There could be no hope in life for such as he. He had just committed the last act of degradation, and suddenly he was face to face with himself, and knew himself for the wretch he was—ruined, lost, and hopeless. The dark waters of Lake Michigan were the only answer.
What had caused this misery? M—was a slave to drink! He would sell his shoes for whiskey, and walk home with his feet wrapped in gunny sacks in the raw Chicago winter. Every penny he could lay his hands on he quickly converted into drink. What a life of misery his wife and child must have experienced at his hands!
Trudging toward Lake Michigan, he shuddered at his last painful memory. Their only child had died. According to the custom of the times the little one had lain in a coffin in their home, its closed eyes weighted down with coins. So intense had been its father's craving for drink that it had overcome even his grief. Unobserved, he had stripped the child of his burial clothes to sell them for drink, and—horrible memory!—exchanged the coins from the dead child's eyes for a drink of fiery liquor. Now, unfit to move as a man among other human beings, he abhorred himself. The dark, cold waters of Lake Michigan would be a welcome solution.
But hope dies hard. On his way he had to pass the Garden City Mission. Sweet gospel singing was floating on the air. Drawn irresistibly toward this sound of love and light, he slipped into the mission. The singing was followed by a simple, earnest message as to Christ's saving power. M—T—listened eagerly as the speaker proclaimed that Jesus had died for sinners, died for him. As the meeting closed, an invitation was given for those who wanted Christ, to come down to the front. Almost in a daze he stumbled down the aisle. There at the penitent's bench he cried from a broken heart that cry which never goes unanswered: "God be merciful to me, a sinner!”
Lake Michigan was forgotten. The erstwhile drunkard was now a new creature in Christ Jesus. Next day found him sober and busy at his occupation as a barber. During the day a patron gave him, along with his fee, a 50¢ tip, large indeed for those days. As he held that coin in his outstretched hand, there was joyful amazement in his voice. "Boss, I have 50¢ in my hand, and for the first time in my life I have no desire to spend it on drink!”
Such was the delivering power of the Savior he had received under such desperate circumstances. What a miracle of God's grace! This man so steeped in sin and wretchedness had cast himself, guilty and undone, upon the Lord Jesus Christ, who is mighty to save. Saved from an untimely death as a suicide, saved to be used as a witness to God's saving power, he lived out his days a grateful, powerful messenger of the grace that had saved him—a man who could touch the hearts of men and women who needed Christ, and win them back to his Savior.
Not all of us sink to the depths that M—T—knew. Perhaps we feel too respectable to require the same salvation which changed his life. Yet we are lonely, and restless, and craving something we do not have. The same Bible which tells us of Christ's glorious salvation, puts us all in the same class.
Oh friend, take your rightful place as a lost, guilty sinner before God. Receive the Savior as your Substitute, and trust Him for eternal salvation. He will not fail you.