Our Place — His Bosom!

NOT many months ago, a young married woman, who had been brought to God but a few months previously, came to her sister's to die. Her husband and parents were hard and unconverted, caring not for God, and despising, alas, the blessed Lord Jesus Christ, who loves and consoles His own.
As she was about to pass away, she turned her head upon the pillow, and resting her cheek on her hand, said, "I am in His bosom," and home to the Lord her spirit sped its way.
Blessed place—His bosom! His affection, His love!
The little child, when in pain or trouble, nestles its head on its mother's bosom. There is a comfort to old age when in its weakness the strong arm and loving touch of a friend be felt. "His bosom" is the place of all others for the saints of God.
Some seek for the sense of their place as Christians in glory, or in power; but for the hour of trial, or the moment of death, there is none like His bosom.
An angel might almost covet the pangs of death to find such a place of love as this.