I HAVE been led to feel of late how much our loving Father delights to own direct, personal, affectionate appeals to the heart. What so precious to Him, whenever opportunity offers, as a simple, humble, but hearty confession of the preciousness there is in Jesus the Son of God? Reader—beloved of God!—let me urge this; for it is good to encourage each other by telling of His gracious ways.
A while ago, a young Scotch woman called on me in the way of business. She was tall and robust; but her pale look, her hectic flush, and bright eye, told at once that consumption had commenced its sure and rapid work. Besides, there was sadness on every feature. After learning that she was a stranger in our large city; that her father and mother were old and poor, in Scotland; and after advising her at once, if possible, to return to her home, she cast on me a most heartrending look. The big tears rolled down her cheeks, and she asked, with such tones as could only proceed from a distressed, aching heart, “Do you think my sickness is a decline?” I replied, “Oh, if you knew what a dear loving friend and Saviour the Lord Jesus is to just such as you, it would give such rest of heart that you would not be troubled a bit as to whether it is consumption or not.”
A few more such words, in the bustle of business, and we parted. Not hearing of her for some days, I concluded she had gone home to her parents; but a fortnight after I received a message that she was at the point of death. I found her utterly prostrate from hemorrhage, and unable to speak a word; but a smile indicated that she knew me. I whispered a few precious scriptures about Jesus, and, to my surprise (O unbelief!), I observed an expression of joy, as of a sunbeam, pass over her face. Next day the crisis was passed, and she greeted me with gladness. At once I said. “Are you happy?” “Oh, yes; quite happy.”
“How long have you been so?” “Nearly a fortnight.” “What made you happy?” “I can scarcely tell.” “Has anyone been speaking or reading to you?” “No.” “Are your sins forgiven?” “Oh, yes, all gone.” “What makes you so sure?” Her strength was gone; she simply breathed out, “Jesus! Jesus! ‘Whosoever believeth on Jesus.’”
She lingered for three months after that; and some of the happiest moments in my life were spent in witnessing her simple joy and her longing desire to be present with the Lord. And see how the Lord ever gives a word in season. She had been a domestic in a private hotel; and she told me that for months before I spoke to her, every day after her work was done she would retire to, her room and weep by the hour at the thought of all her hopes being cut off, and death coming upon her so early. Oh, what an answer to all this did she find in the loving heart of Jesus!
Before her sickness she had sent her wages to support her aged parents. Now she was cast upon the Lord; and richly did He provide for her. A little before she fell asleep in Jesus, I asked if she had any special object for which we should pray. She replied, “I am sometimes troubled about the doctor’s bill, and how my poor body will get buried when I am dead.” I read some of the words of Jesus setting forth His cam, and some of the promises of the Father to answer every request in the name of Jesus; and then we together told both those matters to Jesus. At my next visit, without any surprise (more than I can say of myself), she told me that two gentlemen had called on her from the hotel, to tell her not to be troubled about either the expenses of her funeral, the doctor’s charges, or any expense attending her sickness, as the gentlemen on whom she formerly waited had arranged to meet it all.
And so they did. She fell asleep in Jesus; her precious dust was committed to the earth; and for all her need there was enough and to spare. I had never seen her before I spoke to her. One simple sentence, addressed directly to her heart about Jesus the Lord, was used to dispel the gloom of a broken heart, to draw her sweetly to Himself, and to give her a taste of that living water after which she never thirsted again. Oh, how many times have I heard her exclaim, “Happy! happy as happy can be! Lord Jesus, come.”