“Don’t bother me about conversion, I know all about it, but the truth is, I like the world, and I’m not going to turn religious yet. Take your way, and I’ll take mine. Go to your meetings, sing your hymns, and pray, but don’t trouble me anymore. I’ll be all right someday,” and with these words Willie left the room where his sister sat reading.
He was the only son of a fond mother, a kind, affectionate boy, but not saved. His sister Annie was three years older and had been converted to God two years. Now she longed to see her brother on the Lord’s side, and prayed and sought every opportunity to bring the gospel and his need of it before him. Once and again he had been awakened, but the fear of his companions’ sneers had kept him from deciding to be the Lord’s. He was far from happy, indeed, at times he seemed thoroughly miserable, for whatever his lips might utter in the way of excuse or defense, he was fully aware that the path he was treading had its end in hell, and that his mother and sister had the best of it for time as well as eternity.
All the afternoon, Willie had been preparing to go out with some friends, to enjoy an evening’s “entertainment,” and just as he was putting on his coat to go, Annie ventured to say, “I wish I saw you going out to spend the evening in the service of the Lord, Willie. I wonder when that will be?” The reply he made we have just quoted, and then Willie hurried off to join his companions. Annie heaved a sigh as she saw him go, and her oft-repeated heart-breathing went up to the throne, that God, with whom all things are possible, would lay his hand on Willie and bring him to Himself.
The evening passed away, and Willie returned about ten o’clock. He spoke very little, but from what he did say, Annie gathered that the evening’s entertainment had been disappointing. It had not come up to his expectations. Like most of the world’s affairs, it was less brilliant than it had been represented, and Willie seemed out of temper over it. Perhaps there was another reason, too; his conscience was ill at ease, and that often spoils a worldling’s joy. He retired to his room shortly after he came home, and, of course, Annie had to remember his rule, and say nothing to him on the subject of conversion, but she sang to herself the familiar lines:
“I tried the broken cisterns, Lord,
But ah! the waters failed;
E’en as I stooped to drink they fled.
And mocked me as I wailed.”
Willie knew the meaning of the words full well, and for whom they were intended, too, so he quietly said, “Good Night” to his mother and sister, and passed into his room to be alone with God.
What passed there between the awakened youth and his God, I cannot tell; but in about half an hour, Annie heard a sound coming from Willie’s room, as if someone was speaking aloud, and fearing he might be ill, she gently tapped at the door. Willie opened it, and before Annie had time to speak, he threw his arms around her neck, and bursting into tears, he said, “We’ll sing the chorus of your hymn together now, Annie,” and he led off himself, with the words:
“Now none but Christ can satisfy,
None other name for me;
There’s love, and life, and lasting joy,
Lord Jesus found in Thee.”
Annie joined, but she scarcely knew what she sang. The whole matter seemed like a dream, as the Psalmist knew, when “the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion,” and they were “like unto them that dream, their mouth was filled with laughter, and their tongue with singing” (Psa. 126:1, 21<<A Song of degrees.>> When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. 2Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The Lord hath done great things for them. (Psalm 126:1‑2)). Had Willie trusted Christ? Had he passed out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of the Son of God? Yes, indeed. There he stood, confessing with his mouth the Lord Jesus, and owning Him as the Savior and Satisfier of his soul. There was great joy that night under the widow’s roof. Mother, son, and daughter knelt together, and gave God their thanks, that now this dear, one who had long been prayed for, had accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior—was redeemed by This precious blood shed on Calvary’s cross.
“But did it stand?” you may be inclined to ask. Yes, of course, it stood, for it was the workmanship of God. He was a new creation in Christ wrought of God’s Spirit, and the same is wrought in every sinner who casts himself wholly and only on the Lord Jesus Christ.
The next morning Willie went straight to the circle of his companions, and confessed the Lord, told them he had been converted, and would by grace follow in the Lord’s ways. And he did, heartily and joyfully, testifying to all around him, by his lips and life, of the saving power of Jesus’ Name.
Reader, have you been converted? If not, why not? The world has nothing new to give. Its pleasures do not satisfy, and death will end them all. Then comes eternity an eternity without God, without Christ, in hell. Can you, with open eyes choose such a portion, or will you today choose Christ?