One stormy Sunday afternoon, at the hour when a class of young women usually gathered in a little mountain cottage for Bible study, only one girl waited for the teacher. She had been learning during the week the sweet words of Isa. 53; and as she had plodded up the hillside she had been repeating the verses to herself. However, they were to her then only as the "very lovely song of one who had a pleasant voice." She had not apprehended the meaning of "being healed by His stripes.”
After prayer, with which the hour of teaching always began, Mary stood to repeat her chapter. She said the first four verses, but when she reached the fifth verse: "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed," the tears filled her eyes. Before reaching the end of the verse her head sank down, and the fast-falling tears dropped on the open Bible before her, as she sobbed out: "It was for me; it was for me!”
The intense solemnity of the moment held the teacher silent. As Mary's tears continued to flow freely, the older woman said: "Let us thank Him, dear child, that it was for you." They knelt down, and after the teacher had thanked the Lord for opening the eyes of the dear girl to see Jesus as her substitute, the tears were dried, and in broken tones Mary said: "Lord Jesus, I thank Thee that Thou didst die for me, and that Thou didst take my punishment." Then the sweet calm of conscious "acceptance in the Beloved" stole into the broken heart, and peace with God was sweetly realized.
Have you, reader, ever known the joy of realization that He was wounded for your transgressions, that He was bruised for your iniquities, that the chastisement of your peace was upon Him? If not, you are far from God, outside in the darkness of unbelief and death. Until you accept the love of a living, loving Savior, and see Him as your sin bearer, there is no peace, no life, no joy for you.
Oh, believe this love that is yearning over you. It is stronger than death, and is as infinite as God Himself.