OW do you feel yourself today?" asked a Christian visitor, as she sat down by the bedside of a poor woman, upon whose face death was already beginning to set his stamp.
“I'm no ony better," was the reply.
“Perhaps," said the visitor gently,” you are not going to get better, and what then?”
“Weel, then, I hae Christ," said the invalid, slowly and thoughtfully.
“And what has He done for you?”
“He's dune everything for me," said she earnestly.
“But has He saved you?”
“Yes.”
“I never heard you say this before," said her friend, scarcely knowing whether to give full credit to her words or not. “How did it come about?
Will you tell me about it?”
“It was last day you were in," said the sick one, “an' speakin' tae me aboot Christ. After I was my lane, I began te look back over the past, an'
I saw it was a' black; I lookit intae the future, an' I saw it was a' dark; an' the present was dark tae; so I said te mysel', I maun hae Christ. Then I began te speak oat te Him an' tell Him a' aboot it. My wee lassie heard me speakin', an' cam' up the stair, an' lookin' a’ roun' the room, said, Wha was ye speakin' te?" Te Jesus,' I said. I dinna see Him,' said the wee thing, lookin' a' roun' again. An' then the thocht cam' te my ain heart, But He is here,—here te save me, an' I'll just trust Him.”
Such was her simple story, and the listener's heart went up in praise to Him who had opened another heart, and drawn another soul to take refuge in Himself from the wrath to come. Life's battle had gone hard with this poor one. With a drunken husband and large family, difficult it had been to keep poverty from the door, and “the cares of this life" had been many. And now she had been laid down to die. The doctor had said that he could do no more for her; then it was that she had awakened up to see the blackness of the past, and the darkness of the future, and it had caused her to exclaim, "I maun hae Christ," and Christ she got. During the three weeks that passed after this ere she fell asleep, her friend saw her very frequently, and rejoiced to trace the work of God's Spirit in her soul. Few—few, indeed—were the earthly comforts that were around that deathbed; scant too was the knowledge she possessed of what was written in God's Word; but there was the simple trust of a little child, and therefore the peace of God. Though sometimes lying almost unconscious, taking no notice of anything, the voice of the one who had told her of Jesus always aroused her, and brought the glad look into her eyes, while she would make a feeble effort to turn her poor suffering body so that she might see her.
“Do not move," said her friend to her one day, “when it causes you pain. I can sit beside you and talk to you, and you can hear all the same, although you do not see me.”
“Ay, but then I like te see you," said she; then added, speaking with much difficulty," but —you— could—dae—me—nae-guid—if—I—hadna—Christ.”
“Does the thought ever trouble you of leaving all your children, with no one to take charge of them?”
“No," she said simply;" I hae just left that wi' Him tae.”
Yet she did not know that it was written, “Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you." Those four lines were very precious to her, and she loved to hear them repeated again and again,—
“Death and judgment are behind me,
Grace and glory on before;
All the billows roll'd o'er Jesus,
There exhausted all their power.”
Shortly before she "fell asleep," her friend bent over her and asked, "What of the past now?”
“My sins are a' forgiven,—a' forgiven," she repeated; then added, with almost a wail of sadness, “But I'm next I'm sae lang o' kenning.’”
Unsaved one, is there not a message in this for you? You too have a past. Have you ever looked back over it, and seen its blackness? There is also a future before you, have you ever looked forward to it? And if there is sadness in the wail of regret that comes from this dying bed at being so long in knowing of the blessedness of sins forgiven, what will be the bitterness of your regret if you never know of it at all? Scripture tells us of a place where " there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth " (Matt. 13:1212For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath. (Matthew 13:12)). Wailing over rejected gospel messages, neglected opportunities of being saved, and gnashing of teeth in the hopelessness of despair. Take heed that you do not find yourself amongst those wailers; your opportunities of accepting God's message of salvation are going past; they will soon be gone. Listen, oh, listen, to Him who says,—yes, says to you now, —"Look unto me, and be ye saved.”
Child of God, just a little word to you,—you who, through God's grace, can say, “He has done everything for me; " go further, and be able to say, "He is everything to me." He will be so to you throughout the countless ages of eternity; but just now, in the place where He was despised and rejected, and where His name is still dishonored, prove by your walk and ways that He is everything to you. May the manifestation of your life here be, "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.”
Y. Z.