ON a wall of the room in which I am writing, hangs a picture which has often arrested the eye. It depicts a lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains glistening in the sun; one or two barks are sailing on its waters; while on the shore an old castle peeps out between some poplar trees.
Less than a month ago a Christian entered the room; he, too, was attracted by the painting, not because of its beauty, but on account of its associations, for the old castle belonged to the village in which he had lived as a boy. “I was born there twice,” he said; and the following account of his second birth, given as nearly as possible in his own words, may interest my readers.
“One fine summer day,” he said, “about sixty years ago, I was sitting on the doorstep of my father’s house, basking in the sunshine. I cannot have been more than seven years old, yet I remember well the surpassing beauty of the scene—the deep color of the lake—the brilliant blue of the sky—the dazzling whiteness of the snowy mountains—the gorgeous tints of the landscape. I enjoyed it all with the happiness of a child. But as I gazed upwards I suddenly perceived something moving at a great height, far up in the sky, almost as if in the clouds, yet it seemed to be slowly, very slowly, descending towards me. It was so far away that I could not distinguish what it was, and like a flash the thought came, ‘It’s the Lord Jesus! He is coming, and I am not ready.’
My mother was a Christian, and had taught me from the Scriptures that the Lord Jesus might come at any moment.
Filled with terror, I sprang to my feet and rushed into the barn, closing the door behind me. Throwing myself on a large heap of hay, I buried my face in my hands, and cried between my sobs, ‘Lord, save me; I am lost; pardon my sins; Lord, save me.’ For a quarter of an hour I cried thus in an agony of fear. All was silent outside, and as I listened I said to myself, ‘What can be happening? What is it? Oh, if only the Lord has not come?’ My heart was beating violently, and I trembled all over, and strained my ears to listen for some sound. There was none, and as the silence continued I began really to hope that after all the Lord had not come, so summoning my courage, I crept on tiptoe to the door. But just as I was about to open it I heard a noise of many feet rushing past, and quite distinctly the words reached me, twice repeated, He has come down behind the castle; he has come down behind the castle.’ Ah! I thought, it is actually true, the Lord has come, and I shall be left behind, and once more I threw myself on the heap of hay and cried with redoubled energy, ‘Lord, save me; forgive me, O Lord; have mercy on me.’ My heart beat faster than ever, and all hope was gone.
“For many minutes I reiterated my cries for mercy, not daring to raise my head. When I did, all was again silent outside, so once more I ventured on tiptoe to the door, and slowly opening it, I looked out into the old familiar street. All was as usual, and with a sigh of intense relief I stepped out, and soon learned that it was a balloon which had been the immediate cause of my terror, and that it had descended behind the castle.
“But it had been God’s way of speaking to me, and His work had begun in my soul. From that day I date my conversion. I became a child of God, but it was only some years later that one morning, as I was walking to the vineyard, I really found everlasting peace.”
Dear reader, so great was the anguish of that little boy, that sixty years have not sufficed to efface it from his memory. Grown up now into an elderly man, the whole scene is as vivid to him as if it had only happened yesterday, but he can thank God that if the Lord Jesus came today to fetch His own, he would no longer have to flee in terror from His presence, but would rise up with joy to meet Him in the air.
And now let me ask you, what are your feelings after reading the foregoing account? That child had one quarter or perhaps half an hour of agony, and even then he cherished a faint hope that there was still time for the Lord to save him. But what could equal your anguish and despair if in one moment of time your last chance of salvation were gone, and you entered upon an eternity of misery. The Bible says, “In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump, for the trumpet shall sound,” “the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and the trump of God.” It will be useless then to cry for mercy, for the door will be forever closed against you, and your doom of everlasting misery in company with the devil and his angels will be sealed. I entreat you to think of it, and to let this incident be a warning voice to you, not to trifle with your eternal welfare.
You may perhaps be one of those who say, “We’ve been told so often that the Lord is coming, but it never happens; we can wait a little longer, and be saved like so many on our deathbed.” You forget that the Lord Jesus has only delayed His coming out of longsuffering to poor sinners, not willing that any should perish. He is “not slack concerning His promise”; He is waiting in grace for you to repent and come to Him in all your guilt and wretchedness. His heart is yearning over you, but the day will surely come when He will rise up and shut to the door, and woe betide you then if you are left to stand outside.
Let me once more ask you, if the Lord came today, would you be among those who will be terror-stricken at being left behind, and not only terror-stricken, but filled with bitter remorse at all their lost opportunities; or would you go up with joy and gladness to meet your Lord in the air, and to be forever with Him in the Father’s house, there to praise Him with all the redeemed multitude who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb? “The coming of the Lord draweth nigh.”
LORD, our hearts are burning
For the glorious day,
When, at Thy returning,
All shall own Thy sway.
Chains shall break before Thee,
Mighty King of kings,
Angels will adore Thee,
While creation sings.
Tender loving Saviour,
Lamb that once was slain,
Saints will through Thy favor
Never weep again.
Gently Thou wilt lead them
Where the river flows,
On its banks to feed them
In divine repose.
Prince of life and glory,
Shine before our eyes,
And let Calvary’s story
Sound through earth and skies;
Lamb of God, receive us
To yon peaceful shore;
Come again, Lord Jesus,
Reign for evermore.
C. A. W.