A Gift from Heaven
“I have much pleasure in sending the enclosed as a contribution towards your funds for sending gospels and tracts, etc., to our soldiers at the Front. Since I last wrote to you my dear mother has gone to be with the Lord. Shortly before her death she expressed a wish to contribute her mite towards your work, in which she was much interested.”
Thank God for the interest of His people. We are face to face now with overwhelming possibilities. Today 125 soldiers and sailors sent cards for Testaments. Among those cards were requests from 6 majors, 6 captains, 6 lieutenants, 11 sergeants, 10 corporals, and 86 privates. To each of these a Testament has been sent today. We need your prayers. God is richly blessing the sending of these copies of His Word. But we must have Testaments, and our prayer is continually to God to send them to us. For ₤5 we can get nearly 1,000 Testaments, and for five shillings we can send one parcel to the Front.
A Race with Death
“The defenders of an advanced post were in imminent danger of being cut off, and a summons for help had to be sent at all costs, though it meant almost certain death to anyone who ventured across the shell-swept zone. Every unwounded man responded to the call for volunteers, and one by one the messengers faced the awful fire, only to fall before they had sped many yards. At last only one man was left. He ran the gauntlet, got through, and saved the situation.”
This is the true story of the picture on the cover this month. And what a stirring lesson for every Christian now. The bravery of the soldiers and sailors has been told by pen and picture over and over again. For King and Country they will die. On earthly tablets are emblazoned the deeds of heroes, and on the roll of honor is inscribed many a gallant name. And God wants men to live and die for Him. He wants names for the “roll of honor” in heaven. He wants men brave enough to lead a forlorn hope against sin and unrighteousness in this world. Said a soldier of God once, “We shall have all eternity to celebrate the victories, but we have only the few hours before sunset to win them.” Yes, the sunset hour is very near to some of us. God calls for volunteers today. “Who is on the Lord’s side?” A Christian sent me the following extract from a letter written about one of God’s warriors. He says: “I visited a magnificent young officer from Queensland, whose eyes have been blown out, and his right arm shot away three inches below the elbow, and his left knee shattered by a shell, but the doctors hope this last will get well again. I spent forty minutes with him; he is a modern Havelock, who prayed with his men and led them in that never-to-be-forgotten dash up Gaba Tepe. There he lay, radiant with the joy of the Lord, and he said to me, ‘I never was more happy in all my life, in spite of all my pain. I never dreamed that the Lord Jesus could give so much joy.’”
In his “race with death” he won through. God gave him his V.C.―Victorious Christian―and God will give him the victor’s crown by and bye, when his darkened eyes will see again; will see the King in His beauty in the light and joy of heaven.
And what of you who are cowards in the Christian fight, who when your Captain calls for volunteers hang back and forsake His colors? What of you who once enlisted in His army and swore to serve Him, but who are recreant in thought and word and deed? You will never win through to the golden gate; there shall be no victor’s palm for you; the heavens will be silent when you die, and the oblivion of the renegade and the traitor will be yours. God help us to be true to our Saviour and never be ashamed to own Him as our Lord.
From the Front
One writes: ― “Dear Sir, I would be very pleased if you would send me a New Testament. I think I need one. I nearly lost my life last Saturday while bombing, and I thought it was a warning to me to turn over a new leaf. If you would send me one I would be very thankful. ―H.S.”
The Value of the Word of God
A signaler writes: ― “I thank you for your precious present; it is most certainly precious to me as a young Christian. The reason I wrote to you for one of your Testaments was because the one I had has been worn by constant wear and tear in the trenches for over six months. I have been a Christian for three years, and during that time I have found the real value of the Word of God, and also the presence of an ‘unseen Saviour,’ Jesus Christ. I have tested His keeping powers on the field of battle, and praise His holy name, the grace that saved me is also able to keep me. On the eve of June 30th the eve of the great battle, I spent all my time in close communion with God, because I knew that when the morrow dawned we would have to undergo one of the severest ordeals in the course of our life. When I finished my prayers, I got on to my feet like a ‘young giant refreshed with new wine.’ I had such great confidence in God, and I was prepared for any emergency. As I went into battle next morning these were the words that rang in my ears, ‘Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.’ Dear Doctor, if you know of any who are coming out here, do beg of them to accept Christ before they come, for after seven months of this awful War I may say that the greatest enemy we have out here is our old enemy sin.... Before I close I beg an interest in your prayers for this section and for myself... I pray that God’s richest blessing may rest on your good work among the soldiers, and may the sweet peace of God rest and abide with you until ‘the morning dawns and the shadows flee away.’―R.W.”
A Sailor Writes
“God’s word cannot be altered; it is my defense by day and night, and truly in these last days there is a departing from it. God help us to keep it as our chart; it will bring us safe to the heavenly port, where we shall drop the anchor. No more war, no more storms; all our enemies overcome by the blood of the Lamb.
―S.R., H.M.S. ―.”
In No. 2 Red Cross Hospital
A City missionary tells how a wounded soldier got his Testament. This is his letter to me: ―
“Exeter. April 13th 1916.
“Dear Dr. Wreford,—On entering a ward in our Exeter No. 2 Red Cross Hospital a few days ago, I was accosted by one of the nurses, who asked me if I could direct her to an address printed on one of your booklets: the one entitled, ‘The Sin against the Living God and Sentimental Blasphemy,’ She told me she was a stranger to Exeter and did not know her way about the city. Of course it was your address she was inquiring for, and I directed her how to find your house as plainly as I could. She then told me the reason she wanted to see you. Pointing to the notice on the booklet where it says: ‘Any soldier or sailor reading this, who has not a khaki Testament to fit his pocket, if he will write to me I will endeavor to send him one at once,’ she said, ‘I have promised to try and get a Testament for that dear fellow up there in the corner of the ward.’ Taking out one (for, thanks to your kindness, I always have a good supply when visiting our wounded men), I said, ‘This is what you want; these came from Dr. Wreford.’ I also gave her one of your ‘Message from God,’ and other booklets, for the soldier. After speaking and giving booklets and Testaments to others in the ward, I eventually got around to where the man who had asked the nurse to get him one of your Testaments was lying. I found him very happy, although he was suffering much pain. He had been wounded by shrapnel in the face, lower jaw, right arm broken and both knees. He told me he wanted a Testament because his Bible was too heavy for him to hold up to read in bed. He is compelled to lie on his back, believe. I said to him, ‘You evidently find comfort through reading the Word of God.’ He answered ‘Yes, I do.’ He told me that just before I entered the ward he had received a letter from his young lady who lives at B—, and she had enclosed your booklet with your address on, and after reading it he asked the nurse if she could help him to get a Testament from you. Needless to say he was very grateful.
“Yours very sincerely, F. G. WAKEFIELD (City Missionary).”
The Quilt’s Message
A poor boy lay ill in a hospital. Over him was a quilt made of bits of calico and white squares, on which were written texts of Scripture. It was the gift of a woman whose son was in the army. The boy was seen to kiss over and over a bit of calico, a crimson leaf with a dark background. They thought his mind wandered. After a little he asked: “Where did the quilt come from?” “It was sent by a good woman with a note pinned to it.” At his request they brought the note. His hand trembled and his cheek grew white as he saw the writing. “Read it slowly, please,” he said, “it is from my mother; that bit of calico was part of her dress.” When they finished he pointed to the text: “I have sinned... and am no more worthy.” They read the parable to him. A few days afterward he said: “I was a great way off; but God met me, had compassion on me, and His love fills me with peace.”
Dear Friends
One has said, “Prayer goes up to heaven to fetch something down, and praise goes up to heaven and stays there.” My daily, hourly prayer is that I may be able to help to put a Testament in the pocket of every soldier so that he may be able to hear God speak to him at any moment. And God is answering prayer: the blessing comes down and the praise ascends.