A peacher had traveled far to reach his hearers, and spent long months in learning the Indian language, and winning their confidence.
On one occasion a goodly number of the tribe were assembled, and this dear saint of God was telling out the way of peace through Jesus Christ and Him crucified. He told of the life of love and the words of grace; the deeds of kindness and the acts of power. Then he spoke of the soows of Gethsemane and the sufferings of Calvary, explaining that the Son of God was there taking the guilty sinner’s place and dying in his stead, in order that the guilty one might be saved and for given.
On one at least of that strange company the Gospel message was having an effect. A tall Indian arose and with tears streaming down his face, he advanced towards the preacher and said:
“Did Jesus die for me—die for poor Indian?”
“Yes,” said the preacher, “Jesus died for sinners.”
“Then me give Jesus my rifle.”
“But Jesus does not want your rifle.”
“Poor Indian now no lands to give. White man taken them all away, but me give Jesus my dog and blanket as well as rifle, Poor Indian got no more to give.”
Then the preacher explained that Jesus had risen from the dead, and was not asng gifts, but that he was now at the right hand of God in heaven, and that he was waiting to give salvation to all who would really trust in Him.
Slowly the truth entered into the rough, untutored heart of the fierce son of the wilds; then he said,
“Here is poor Indian, he will give hielf in return for such wonderful love.”
You may be sure the preacher’s heart was thrilled by this simple confession of faith, and gladly he spent himself in fresh effort both to instruct the young believer, and also to win others for his Master.
Dear reader, have you, like this Indian given yourself to the Lord Jesus? If not, do not put it off, but come to Him just as you are. He says:
ML 03/02/1941