It was night. The chief surgeon for a large city hospital had paid an unusually late visit to the ward. He had just left it and was accompanied by the house doctor and the head nurse. Pausing near the open door he said to her: "It is a pity, Nurse, about that splendid young fellow at the end of the ward. We have all done our very best for him; but he will be dead before morning.”
Startled out of her usual calm the nurse answered: "Oh, is that possible, Doctor? But you told him he was `doing fine.' And he is quite expecting to live.”
"Well, he has put up a grand fight for life and there is no use in depressing him. He will probably be unconscious in a few hours and never know he's dying." With these words the great surgeon moved on down the corridor.
The nurse stood for a moment hesitating; then she said to the house doctor: "Will you not tell him, Doctor?
His friends and family are all far away in the North and there has been no time for anyone to come down. He may have something to settle, or some last message to send. It is hard for them that he should not know. Do tell him.”
"No, no, I shall not tell him. It is easier for him not to know," said the doctor. Then as he also passed on, he looked back and added: "You can tell him if you like, Nurse.”
"Then I must, I must," she said aloud; but within herself she thought: "How can I? Will he ever believe me in the face of the doctor's cheering words? Is it any use, after all, to upset him?”
Once more her first thought returned to her. "He may have something to settle, some message to send.”
Deeply preoccupied, she finished her evening duties. Then with slow steps she made her way back through the ward, pondering how she was to impart her dread tidings. The night nurse was at her post and the lights had been turned down when she took her seat by the side of the one who, she now knew, was dying.
"This is kind of you to come and pay me another visit, Nurse," he said. "You heard what the doctor said. I am 'doing fine.' Does he think it will be long before I can be moved? You will write to my mother, won't you, and make the best of it to her?”
The nurse was silent a moment or two. Then she said gently: "I'm afraid the doctor made you think what is not true, Andrew. You are in very grave condition. There is more danger than any of us thought at first.”
It was Andrew's time to be silent for a full minute. Then as a look of fear and dismay came into his eyes, he said: "You do not mean I am dying, Nurse?”
There was no need for words. Her grave look and the tears in her eyes answered him.
Again there was a pause. He had been a strong, brave man and had faced death before without flinching. But that had been on the battlefield surrounded by others in like danger. This was different. It was night and in a hospital ward. All was quiet; there was nothing to distract him nor to counteract the awful solemnity of knowing he had God and eternity to face. Presently his quivering lips spoke only three words: "How long, Nurse?”
She dared not hide from him the stern truth.
And then came a low despairing cry: "But I can't die, Nurse. I can't die. I am not ready to die." And then the momentous question was eagerly asked: "What must I do to be saved?”
She had said to the doctor: "He might have something to settle"; but she had thought of earthly things, the things of time. Now she found that he had indeed something to settle, and it meant everything to him for all eternity. All she could say was: "I don't know, Andrew! I am not a Christian.”
Then the pleading voice, now very low, said: "Won't you pray for me? Do pray." The sad answer came: "I can't. I don't know how to pray.”
What a moment for both of those souls! Both lost, and both just having found it out. But in the case of one the last grains of sand in life's hourglass were fast running out; and still this question was unanswered: "What must I do to be saved?”
The nurse was scarcely less agitated than the dying man. At last surely a Spirit-given thought came to her, and she said; "I'll tell you what I can do, Andrew, if it will be any comfort to you. I will sit here with you tonight and read the Bible to you.”
Andrew caught at the suggestion as a drowning man might catch at a rope thrown to him, and begged, "Oh, do! Please do.”
She turned up the light just above his bed, enough to enable her to see to read, and took up a Bible lying on the window sill nearby. She hardly knew where to begin, but the Bible fell open at the Gospel of John. In a low clear voice she read of one who came to the Lord Jesus by night and got his questions answered. She read of the need of man and of God's love and His promise to meet that need. She read slowly, distinctly; and he listened eagerly, intently, seeking to grasp something to answer the now all-absorbing anxiety of his soul.
As the soft voice read on, a glance at the suffering man showed a gray look stealing over his face, a look she knew so well. Yet his pleading eyes besought her to keep on, to tell him more of the One who went about doing good. Finally she came to John 5:24: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.”
She looked up as she finished reading that wonderful verse and saw that it had entered into his very soul. The haggard look of agony, the struggle to grasp something unattainable, the despair of a lost man; these were fast giving place to a heavenly hope as he said: "Stop there, Nurse. Dawn is breaking. Light is coming in. I—see I see!" Then very weak his voice was as he said: "Leave me alone, Nurse, but not long. Thank you, oh, thank you She left him for a few minutes-alone with God. When she returned his face was radiant. "Oh, Nurse, it is all settled. That last verse did it. I have heard His Word; I do believe that Jesus, the Son of God, bore my sins and was 'lifted up' for me. Now I know that He has received me, guilty and unprepared as I was, and there is no death for me—no darkness—no night there—EVERLASTING LIFE!”
The words came with difficulty, but quite clearly and distinctly. It was like a "HALLELUJAH," though so faint that the nurse had to listen intently to hear it all.
The gray look deepened on his face and soon he sank into profound unconsciousness only to waken "with Christ," with the Good Shepherd who had sought and found His lost sheep and carried it home on His shoulders.
And what of the nurse, do you ask?
For four long years she was buffeted by Satan, a victim of doubts and fears. She marveled that Andrew had received such assurance of salvation so quickly. She did not see that he had looked to the Lord alone, while she was looking within and finding nothing but sin and misery.
At last a friend who knew her distress introduced her to a dear man of God. He sought by the Spirit to speak peace to this troubled soul. He turned to John 5:24: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.”
Suddenly the light broke through and, like Andrew, she too said: "I see. I see." The same words that had met the dying man's need four year: ago now calmed every doubt and fear in her heart, and she could say with praise in her heart: "It is all settled.”
Reader, is your destiny all settled? John 5:24 is a message for you, too. Will you not receive it?