“DO tell me what I should say to one who would like to believe, but who can’t believe?” said a lady to Captain ― and myself, as we were sitting quietly one morning, talking to her about the Lord’s work, and of souls who had lately found peace in believing.
“I don’t know what to say in such a case,” I said.
“You must only pray for her,” said my friend.
“Oh, but I have been praying,” said the lady, “and I see no answer.”
“Well, you must only wait for the answer; she will be saved yet,” said my friend.
“Oh, but I can’t wait,” said the lady, suddenly, clasping her hands together.
I felt a strange inclination to go and call on her husband, who was occupied elsewhere, and whose acquaintance I had not yet made; and still I thought it would look so odd, if I got up and left them there and yet may-hap I thought it is of the Spirit of God, and now’s the time which He has selected.
I took up my hat suddenly, and said, I beg your pardon, Mrs.―; you will excuse me for a little: and I left the house before they had well time to ask me where I was going. I went straight to where I knew Mr. was engaged I introduced myself as one who had the pleasure of knowing Mrs.―, and wished to make his acquaintance.
He was very courteous, and kindly asked me into his own private office.
“Mr.―,” I asked, as soon as we got in have you got everlasting life?”
“Well, indeed, I am afraid not, Mr.―,” he replied.
“Why not,” I said; “have you ever considered that sin-an unsettled account of sin―is the only thing standing between a sinner are God?”
“I know it.”
“Well, and what is the penalty attached to the commission of sin?”
“Death,” he said.
“Yes,” I added, “the wages of sin is death, and how are you going to pay that debt?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“It is eternal death, and you can never pay it. God wanted to have your soul saved, and seeing that you could never pay that debt, He gave His own Son to pay the debt, and He has paid it.”
“Did He suffer death for His own sins?”
“No, certainly not.”
“Well, has Christ’s death satisfied God’s demands with regard to sin.”
“It has,” he said.
“Well,” said I, “why ain’t you satisfied with what God is satisfied? Do you acknowledge that is God’s Word,” pointing to the New Testament?
“I do, indeed,” he said; “I believe one ought to have the most absolute confidence in all God says therein.”
“And do you believe that Christ’s death has fully met all God’s demands for sin?”
“I do believe it,” he said.
“Then God is reconciled now, and fully satisfied with the death of Christ?”
“Then nothing now remains between you and God,” I added. “Christ has paid the debt, God is satisfied, and so are you; it is set down to your account.”
“I believe,” he added, “what God has written, but I don’t feel anything.”
“God does not want you to feel anything,” I said. Look here: “He that believeth on me hath everlasting life” ―not a word about feeling.
“Well, I believe on Him.”
“Then, in that case, do you see that you have it written in God’s Word that you have everlasting life?”
“I do,” he said.
“Will you believe God’s word?” I said.
“I will,” said he, with a firm voice.
“Can you stay on it?”
“I can,” he said in a determined way.
“Well, good bye, Mr.― God bless you. I have got nothing more than you have. I stand or I fall on that word, and I stake my whole soul on its truth.” We shook hands warmly, and I hurried back to rejoin Mrs.― and Captain―.
They had been holding an interesting conversation, and did not even ask me where I had been. I did not tell them, and we soon after got up and left the house.
That whole day I was much drawn out in prayer for the soul with whom I had been having such a deeply interesting conversation.
That evening we had a prayer meeting. To my surprise Mr.―, who had never attended one before, came in boldly, and sat down, listening evidently with pleasure to the address. His wife, who had before been at the meetings, did not come on this occasion, being engaged at a small party at the clergyman’s house, from which he had contrived to get away.
After the meeting a large number remained, while some hurried out, perhaps lest Captain or I should speak to them too personally about the precious Saviour.
Mr.―, on the contrary, deliberately sat down, and soon after, being near him, I said, “Well, Mr.―, is it all clear now?”
“I don’t feel anything,” he said.
“Well, no matter,” I said, “about the feeling. Do you see it written in God’s Word that you have eternal life?”
“I do,” he said.
“And you believe it?” I said.
“I do,” he added; and once more we parted, he giving me a warm grasp of the hand. I called on him the next day.
“Well, Mr.―, you see it all now?”
“I feel a great change today,” he added, with such a sweet smile!
I was going to say, “Never mind your feelings;” but I saw he was resting not on his feelings, but on the Word of the living God; so I said, “It’s very simple, is it not?”
“Very; it’s so simple that one can scarcely believe it.”
“And yet if it was difficult it would never do for us. It’s great happiness, is it not?”
“Oh yes, it’s great peace―it’s the peace of God,” he said thoughtfully.
“It’s a remarkable fact,” said he to me one day, “that if you had come to me on any other day, or at any other hour, and spoken to me on such a subject, I should have turned you out of the house.”
I think I can see you, dear reader, looking up, as you close this little story. Mayhap you are thinking about “Peace with God.” If you have not got it, all the happiness which this world can give you is not worth a straw.