THERE lived in the United States, some twenty-five years ago, a man who said there was no God. One day he came into the office of the place where he worked, and said to a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, who had often spoken to him of eternity and of the Lord Jesus, the Saviour of sinners, that he had decided that Jesus was a mere myth.
It was a busy day in the office, and the believer, who knew that his sins were forgiven through the precious blood of Christ, was a little perplexed just for a moment how to reply. As he raised his eyes and looked about the office he saw many calendars hanging on the walls.
“Why, man,” he said, “look at that year on these calendars. It does not commemorate the birth of some great potentate of this world, but speaks of the lowly Jesus, the blessed Son of God, our Saviour.”
Without one word the scoffer turned, and went out of the office.
This same believer had a dream about this man, and in the dream he saw his face after death, and he heard him say, “Oh! how disappointed I am.”
In speaking to him about it afterward, he said to him, “And your face showed how disappointed you were.”
He answered, “I’ll risk it.”
Shortly before his death this same believer called to see him, and was speaking to him again of eternity.
He said to him, “It is all settled, I don’t care to hear any more of these things.”
A universalist minister had called, and told him he was all right, and the one who had pleaded with him so often had to record the sad fact that he died as he had lived.
Dear reader, are you risking it, or will you turn to the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, whose precious blood cleanseth from all sin, and be enabled to say through grace―
“On Christ, the solid rock, I stand―
All other ground is sinking sand”?
T. F.