I stood by the deathbed of a woman known for her great natural benevolence. Her good works which she vainly recounted brought her no peace. She writhed in agony of soul, and believed that it arose from her unworthiness in partaking of the sacrament (1 Cor. 11:2729).
It was a terrible sight as she tossed to and fro in physical and mental anguish with none to point her to the Savior. When I visited her my only word was: "The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin."
I was forbidden by her family and doctor to see her again. One text, only one—and little prospect of hearing if it had been received in faith. I had gone to see her, encouraged by a word from a Christian doctor. "Remember, God's resources are infinite in bringing souls to Himself."
Again, in spite of man's prohibition, I stood by the dying woman. A strange servant had admitted me. The poor, weary sufferer was in peace. When I inquired from whence sprang her hope, she repeated: " 'The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.' All night you seemed to stand by my side repeating it. I asked the nurse to read in the Bible, but there was no Bible here. She repeated to me some of Wesley's hymns; but when she was silent I heard again, 'The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.' "
The thief on the cross had but one sentence of the Word of God-and those blessed words of consolation lighted him through the valley of the shadow of death. It was enough. Better are "five words" "fitly spoken" of the Word of Life, than a multitude of "thine own words."