A FEW months ago, in the village of M—, there lived a woman who was suddenly seized with what proved to be an incurable disease. As soon as this fact was made known to her, and she knew that her time was short, she began to be in great distress of mind respecting the eternity to which she was fast hastening, and to wish for someone to come and speak to her about the Saviour.
I was asked to visit her, and one Sunday morning made my way to the cottage. On entering, the first words that greeted me were, “Oh! Mr. H—, the doctor tells me I shall not live to Christmas, and I’m not ready!”
Never shall I forget the agony of that face, as with the tears streaming down her cheeks, and her hands clasped tightly together, she besought God to have mercy upon her.
As soon as she became a little composed, I read the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, and explained how that the great sacrifice had been made, and that by His stripes we are healed, pointing out to her that all the sins of a lifetime could be washed away in a moment by the precious blood of Jesus.
She seemed to be impressed, but lamented her folly in having left the great question of salvation unsettled until the end of her life, and said that she could not now feel the truth of what I urged. I again quoted some precious words to show that it was not feeling, but simply trusting in the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. I then prayed with her, and was obliged to leave.
I visited her again the next week, but there was no change. I asked if there was anything on her mind that prevented her accepting the offers of mercy. She said there was nothing, and she hoped to be saved. Earnestly did I pray that God would remove all doubts and fears, and that she might be born again. In the course of our conversation, she told me of the worldly, gay life she had been living for several years in India, and how all that time she had not thought of God, or of eternity, adding, “Don’t you think it very mean of me, after all these years of gaiety, now to ask God to accept me, when I have no strength to serve Him? I think it is the meanest thing I can do.”
I told her that need not be any barrier to the way of life, for if she truly repented of her former sins, God, who willeth not the death of a sinner, was willing and able to save her to the uttermost. Still no light seemed to break in, and the words, “I’m not ready,” again fell upon my ears.
On another occasion I endeavored, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, to present the gospel in all its fullness to her, telling her that “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16), but all seemed to fall upon a deaf ear, and the impressions, which were manifested in the early stages of her illness, appeared to have passed away. Long and earnestly did I pray that God would open her eyes, to behold in Him a sinner’s Saviour, and that He would bring the wandering one into the fold. Once in speaking to her about her children, two of whom had died in early life, she urged me most earnestly to look after the lambs of the flock, and get them to serve Christ in their early days, and warn them not to put off seeking the Saviour till the end of life, as she had done.
Several times I visited her after this, but, instead of the brightness and hope of glory, there was callousness and indifference about the things pertaining to her salvation. I tried to rouse her to a sense of her danger, telling her again of a Saviour, who was still waiting to bless and save her. Once she said she hoped to meet me in heaven, which hope I trust may be realized in the bright home above, but these doubtful words are all I have to base it on. Owing to the nature of the complaint, I was unable to visit her at the last; and I was told by those, who attended her, that she died without giving any definite hope for eternity. He, who knows all the thoughts and intents of the heart, knew hers, and may have saved her even at the last.
Reader, are you ready? Let this little story warn you that it will not do to trust to a deathbed repentance. Are you going on as this poor creature had done, in the midst of the world’s so-called pleasures, forgetting all about Him who died for you? Seek Him now while you are in health, so that the cry, “I’m not ready,” may not be yours on your dying bed. “Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near.”
T. H.