“Thank you very kindly for all you have done for us, but we want more. WE ARE GOING OUT TO FACE DEATH. We want something for our souls.”
This was a Tommy’s comment on a social entertainment to which he had been invited. Yes, they want soul-food. Help us to send it to them. Another Tommy writes: “only God’s Word tells a man that he is a lost sinner. His fellow-sinners and his own heart tell him that he is not so had after all. Happy the sinner who sees in the Word of God that he is already lost... There are many candidates for hell. Satan has many zealous agents, and the Lord has many half-hearted servants.”
“Am I too Late?”
A widow’s piteous appeal at a soldier’s grave in France
“Am I too late? Where is he?” a widow cried, kneeling down in the mud and clasping the coffin containing all that was left of her husband. Then in an agony she wailed: “O my darling, come back to me! How can I live forever alone?” Some of the men of the burial party had been joining in the Lord’s Prayer over the body. Then they reversed arms, and the “Last Post” was sounded—and then came the cry of the breaking heart: “O my darling, come back to me! How can I live forever alone?” A Christian lady knelt beside her, and taking her hand talked to her of the hope beyond the grave. What comfort is there for such sorrow but the loving-kindness of Christ? Oh! to give them all the Word of God, that tells of a Saviour’s endless love!
“For God’s Sake, Save Me!”
A wounded Tommy was lying on the ground, and the battle was raging around him. He cries in his agony, “For God’s sake, save me.” A comrade hears him, lifts him up, slings him across his back, and hurries away as fast as he can to a place of safety. He has snatched his comrade from the jaws of death. “For God’s sake, save me.” How often have I heard in my soul that cry from the trenches and the battlefields: the cry of souls seeking Christ when face to face with death. There is only One can save them in that awful need, but He is always ready and willing to save, and He would have us send them His Word to read about His salvation.
Read this incident sent me by a Christian friend: ―
“WON’T YOU COME TO CHRIST NOW?”
The battle raged, shot and shell were dropping into the British lines like rain from the clouds. A stray piece of shrapnel lodged itself in a soldier’s cheek, seriously damaging one of his eyes. At the same instant as the shot struck him he felt a touch upon his shoulder and a voice whispered in his ear, “Won’t you come to Christ now?” He turned, but saw no one at the moment. It seemed a voice from heaven. Looking along the trench, he saw a young soldier running quickly. Listening, he heard the same question being repeated in the ear of every man whom the young soldier passed.
“Won’t you come to Christ now?” The words went home to the soldier’s heart. He considered for a few seconds, as he lay wounded in the trench. The shell might have meant instant death, but he had been preserved. The opportunity was seized, and there in the trench, lying badly wounded, he gave his decision: “Yes, I will come to Christ now.” He came and found those words spoken by the Lord Jesus Christ quite true, “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:3737All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. (John 6:37)). Today he lives in Ireland, a bright testimony to the grace of God.
Reader, allow me to whisper that question in YOUR EAR: “Won’t you come to Christ now?” You have heard the gospel often, no doubt, and have had many opportunities of accepting Christ as your Saviour. You may not be in such a perilous position as the soldier of whom you have read, but, be sure of this, death is busy today. Are you prepared? Oh! turn to the Saviour. He is able and willing to save you. Able, because He has met every claim of God against you. He has borne in His own Person all the consequences of your sins. Willing, because He loves you and desires to have your trust. Let your heart go out with the soldier’s, and say, “Yes, I will come to Christ now.” God grant it.
C. S. Ross