The new minister was having his hair cut one midweek morning. Suddenly conscious of the conversation going on in the shop, he overheard one barber say to another, "Old Jud's day is about done.”
"Yes," added the other barber; "I was out there Sunday to shave him and he is in bad shape.”
Continued talk informed the silent listener that the dying "Jud" was old and evil. He had been raised in a Christian home, but wandering west into temptation and opportunity, had chosen evil. From the founding of that village "Jud" had been a leader fostering sin. His prominence had been sufficient to attach an ill name to the village itself, though others there were no whit better.
God's long-suffering had provided that this wicked life should not end before a missionary among folk of prison-worthy standards had come to this town. In the few months the, minister had now been there. Jud had never spoken to him but had come to know him by sight, and, strangely, the wicked old man had spoken no evil of the preacher. On his part the minister could only remember him as a broken old man in a worn old coat, driving an old, old horse hitched to a creaking old buggy. He identified him only by 'a chance remark of someone saying, "There goes old Jud." That was autumn. This was the following spring.
"His day is about done." The words sank into the heart of the minister his day of grace; his opportunity to repent; his time of salvation; his chance of heaven; his Rubicon between eternal bliss and eternal woe.
"His day is about done." The words could not be thrust away. Pitying concern for the old creature said, "Go see him." A walk of two miles brought the minister to the door of the charitable family who sheltered old Jud.
Inquiry about the condition of the ailing man received a courteous reply, but no invitation to speak with him. This it afterward proved was because of their desire to shield the caller from the offensiveness of the old man's wretched malady.
After a reasonable wait the minister requested to see Jud. "It won't do any good to talk with him," he was told; "he is too far gone. He doesn't want to see anybody." The caller persisted and finally was directed to the screened rear of the house where the poor old man sat for air.
The invalid was the embodiment of forlorn extremity. Propped in a large chair, his flushed face, labored breathing, bulging eyes, purple hands, swollen feet, all betrayed the failing effort of an enfeebled heart to maintain life. As the minister came close he was recognized. In a surging agony of soul old Jud commanded, "Go 'way. I'm going to hell and I deserve to go.”
Never could well-intentioned pity be more taken aback. This family wanted the caller to stay away, and so did the sick man. But meekly God's messenger spoke quietly of God's Word concerning mercy to sinners. Again he met the same rebuff: "Go 'way, go 'way! I'm going to hell and I deserve to go.”
Finally, feeling that he had accomplished nothing, but rather had alienated himself and his work from the family and their friends in the community, the minister returned home. However his sense of responsibility was constantly heightened. The unforgettable, "His day is about done," brought him a second time to see old Jud.
Again the interview was most unsatisfactory. The same hoarse, roaring command met the Christian. But the sick old man listened when God's offers of mercy were quoted.
Memory evidently awakened in the lost man, but awful groanings interrupted every argument which the minister used. Baffled, he returned home and to prayer.
"Get Jud to pray," became the inner urge of the Spirit, repeated over and over. So again the step of the minister awakened the attention of the sick old fellow at an earlier hour than usual.
"I came to get you to pray," said the minister.
"I can't pray," was the positive answer. And no amount of urging effort nor argument nor example was able to avail. The minister finally concluded that the hardened, rebellious sinner indeed could not pray. Gently the missionary pressed upon him the 55th of Isaiah, verses 6 and 7: "Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.”
Still the responsibility deepened in the minister's heart. In spite of the loudly voiced conviction in the community that he was dogging the old man to death, his urge was, "Get him to pray. Make every effort to that end.”
On his next call the preacher stated, "I came again to get you to pray; indeed, I came to make you pray.”
The usual refusal, only feebler, arose. "You must pray. Pray this prayer after me: 'God be merciful to me a sinner.'”
"God have mercy!" the poor breathless soul had cried, shortening even so short a Biblical prayer in his earnest cry to God.
And did Jesus hear? The minister records: "I saw those eyes bulging with terror settle to their place. I heard those lips pour out in hoarse whispers volumes of confession, and pleading for mercy, and praise for forgiveness. I heard intercessions for former companions in sin. I saw the peace of God which passeth all understanding come over that straining, marred face, and a quiet beauty remains in my amazed memory of my last look on the peaceful countenance of that newborn soul.”
The minister, perceiving how alone that praying soul was with Jesus, slipped out and went his way. Later he learned that for hours with scarce a pause the prayers and pleadings and praise continued until life departed and Jud's day was done.