“O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.”
THE well-known hymn echoed through the pretty country gospel hall one morning, and many faces, young and old, brightened with renewed hope as the strong words brought their everlasting message of comfort. But to the three young men sitting up in the side balcony they meant nothing. “What’s Miss Reynolds done with her coat this morning?” asked one, in a subdued whisper.
“Left it at home by mistake, I expect!”
“Or lost it on the way,” volunteered the third boy.
A suppressed snigger greeted this witty remark, and the boy who had made it looked pleased with himself.
As the people sat down at the close of the hymn, an old man hobbled slowly and painfully up to the front, leaning heavily on his stick. Old David followed the service with pathetic devotion, singing the hymns as heartily as his quavering voice would allow. Then when the preaching began, he settled himself back in his corner, straining all his power to catch some words. But in vain. His increasing deafness and heavy cold made hearing impossible, and with a sigh of regret David’s attention relaxed, and he looked round sadly.
Suddenly his eyes fell on the three young men sitting together in the balcony, and David knew that God had given him a mission. Here was something he could do. He could not listen to the message, but he could pray that these boys might be led to think of things unseen and eternal—that they might turn from their sin to the Saviour.
So throughout the rest of that service the old man’s lips moved in prayer and his face took on a new light. All that night, till he fell asleep, did David plead for the souls of these young men. And during the whole of the week that followed he continued earnestly, insistently, to bring them before his Master, till at length Lord’s day came around once more.
He was about to start for the evening service when outside the door he met Mr. Harding, the teacher of the young men’s Bible class.
“Ah, friend David, we are both going the same way,” he said cheerily, and taking the old man’s arm, he led him along, suiting his own pace to the feeble steps.
“I have been having a remarkable experience this week,” he remarked, when they had safely managed a difficult crossing, and were walking leisurely along the quiet road.
“There are three young men in my Bible class who have often distressed me by their indifference. Lately they have attended irregularly, and I have been afraid that they were getting into bad company.
“Last night, when I had nearly fished supper, the maid said that somebody wished to see me. I went into the hall, and there stood one of these lads—for they are little more. When I took him into my study I found that he was in great distress of soul. He said that he had been in that state all week, but he couldn’t account for it in any way.
“However, I talked, and read some scriptures, and prayed with him, and before long the light broke through. When he left my house he seemed to be overflowing with happiness, because he had found the Saviour and had lost his burden of sin.”
The old man, who had been straining his ears to catch every word, was about to speak, but Mr. Harding, not noticing went on: “This morning, after the meeting, a second young fellow stopped me, and said: " ‘Please, sir, do you mind if I speak to you’?
“In a moment I found that he too had been under conviction of sin all week, though he could not think why. I had a long talk with him, and now he also is rejoicing in his Saviour.
“But this is not all. When I got to the classroom this afternoon, a third fellow awaited me. He had the same strange and wonderful story to tell, and he too was led into the light.
“The three lads are friends, but they kept their feelings to themselves, possibly fearing ridicule... Why! what is it?” for David had stopped, and now stood white and trembling, leaning on his stick.
“What were their names?” he quavered. Then, as Mr. Harding gave them, he murmured, “Praise the Lord.”
David heard none of the message that night, but the sigh in his heart had given place to a glad song, for had not God used his very deafness as a means of winning three precious souls to Christ?
Perhaps, dear unsaved reader, someone is praying for you—Mother, Father, a sister, a brother, or a friend. Why day! Come to Jesus now, just as you are, and take Him as your Lord and Saviour. And then confess Him to others; you don’t know how happy you will be!
ML-12/18/1960