I Got High-Minded — That Was It

 •  6 min. read  •  grade level: 7
 
R. W. had to rough it in his youth. When but a child he was actually bought and sold twice. No loving mother gave him a good-night kiss, no kind father told him of Jesus. Young R. had to feel blows instead of kisses, and to hear cursings instead of loving words.
Having had such a training, the “tares " which had been sown so plentifully in his young heart sprang up and brought forth all too soon their sorrowful fruit. Early in life R. trod in sinful paths, and he was for many years a sad specimen of one led captive by Satan at his will.
Such was R. before "the grace of God that bringeth salvation” shone into his dark heart. He came to the Light, and, oh, what a change it wrought in his life and walk! He enjoyed peace with God—old things had passed away, and all things were become new.
While he continued to pursue with diligence his humble occupation, he now began to testify openly of the grace that had sought and found him—yea, of that Blood that
cleanseth from all sin. Gently and simply did R. speak, as he could find occasion, and the Lord owned and blessed his labors. At a time when cholera was raging, he was especially active, fearlessly at the bedside of the sick and dying, preaching peace by Jesus Christ.
Of many things R. knew but little, yet he could happily say, "One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see," and his very imperfect education was more than compensated by the fervor of his spirit, so that believers found his company refreshing and profitable.
As years rolled on, however, a time of trial came, when the enemy of souls, ever active, sought to ensnare this devoted child of God.
A most subtle trap was laid, and, sad to say, the unsuspecting R. was soon caught in the enemy's coils. Yielding to temptation, old tastes and habits revived, and he rapidly slid backwards into a path of sin and shame.
His Christian friends noticed that R. was not with them so frequently as before; then sad rumors reached their ears. One and another of them visited him, but he answered their plain questions with false excuses, and began to avoid the company of those who love our Lord Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, at one time there was reason to hope that he had repented, for he again sought the company of his fellow Christians, and seemed brighter in spirit and happier in mind. These hopes, however, were soon dashed to the ground. R. again declined. His sorrowing friends prayed for him and visited him, but, as he refused to listen to them, they could only leave him to walk in the path he had chosen, while they continued to grieve over his fall and to entreat the Lord for him.
Truly, this sheep wandered very far astray, but the Good Shepherd went unweariedly after him until He had found him.
One morning a friend told me that R. was very ill, and asked me to visit him, saying, “You will find a very great difference in him." I went, and found him lying upon his bed, pale and emaciated. Knowing what had happened, how could I address him? My thoughts were directed to the fifty-first Psalm, which I read aloud.
This scripture seemed just suitable to R.'s case, and it gave us both liberty to speak freely. To my great joy, I found that the Lord had already wrought a work of grace in his heart, surpassing all my expectations. He sorrowfully but candidly owned to what an awful extent he had gone in sin, to the great dishonor of his Lord; while, out of a softened but thankful heart, he acknowledged the loving hand that had so mercifully snatched him out of the dreadful vortex, into which he had been sinking deeper and deeper. He saw it all now. Speaking of his own sad and prolonged departure from the Lord, he said, “It did not begin with—" mentioning the particular sin which had so easily beset him; “it was not that; no, it was not that. I was asked to visit the sick and the dying. I went where the cholera raged, for I was not a bit afraid; I knew that the Lord was using me, and I got high-minded. Yes, I got highminded—that was it—that was it."
Beloved fellow-laborer in the gospel, especially do you and I need to observe the solemn exhortation, “Be not high-minded, but fear." We may be very diligent in the Lord's vineyard, we may with joy discover that the Lord has been pleased to own and bless our labors; yet if our hearts are centered upon service, instead of being fixed upon Christ, we are treading on dangerous ground. “Abide in Me, and I in you," said our Lord and Master. “As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in Me."
To witness a restoration such as R.'s proved to be, was enough to fill one's heart with praise and thanksgiving. When I parted from him I could only praise the Lord as I thought of the grace that had brought this straying sheep home—of the mercy that had restored to him the joy of God's salvation—and of the peace of God which had once more taken possession of his heart.
“The Lord has restored R.'s soul. Is it His will that he should also be restored to the confidence of those whom he had left, to follow the crooked paths of his own willful heart's devising? “This question pressed heavily upon my spirit, so that I felt I must visit R. a second time. Receiving from him the assurance that he would gladly hear what I had to say, I told him of the sorrow, of the grief and pain his friends had endured concerning him, for I felt that I must be faithful and withhold nothing from him. His reply was a bitter lamentation:—
“I’ve dishonored the Lord and grieved my brethren; I've dishonored the Lord and grieved my brethren."
Does this meet the eye of one who has gone astray?-flow long will you dishonor the Lord? Return, beloved one, return! Oh, why do you linger in a path of sin and sorrow? Delay not, but return at once to the loving arms of Jesus—to the Lord, who alone can restore the soul. He will frankly forgive you all; it may be that He will restore you with joy to your brethren—that He will open your lips, and your mouth shall show forth His praise.
R.'s grief was certainly not lessened by the thought that probably he never would be restored to health and strength—never be able again to honor the Lord by a consistent walk before men. He desired me to become his messenger to several Christian friends, whom he mentioned by name—to entreat them to come to him, in order that he might acknowledge before them his sorrow for what had passed—to tell them how the Lord had restored his soul, and to meekly ask their forgiveness for the wrong he had done them.
Surely I need not speak of the joy with which this message was received. The same Lord who in mercy had restored R.'s soul, restored to him also the confidence and affection of his Christian friends. Soon after this he fell asleep in Christ. J.