Roosevelt's Mistake

 •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 6
 
During the Spanish war Theodore Roosevelt was greatly concerned when a number of his men became ill.
Hearing that Clara Barton, organizer of the American Red Cross, had received a supply of delicacies for the invalid soldiers under her care, Colonel Roosevelt requested her to sell him a portion of them for the sick men of his regiment.
His request was refused, however, which troubled the colonel greatly. He was strongly attached to his men, and was prepared to pay for the supplies out of his own pocket.
"I must have proper food for my sick men," he said. "How can I get these things?"
"Just ask for them, colonel," said the doctor in charge of the Red Cross headquarters.
"Oh," said Roosevelt, his face breaking into a smile, "that is the way, is it? Then I do ask for them." And he was immediately given the coveted supplies.
Often the colonel's mistake has been made in connection with God's gift of eternal life. Many expect to receive it in exchange for something they offer.
One brings an earnest prayer. Another brings a vow or a promise to turn over a new leaf; another, a good resolution to live a better, purer life. Another thinks that before one can receive salvation he must produce some evidence of his sincerity in the shape of an improvement in conduct. Another imagines salvation can be obtained only by strict adherence to some creed or conformity to some religion.
The truth is that God's salvation can only be had as a free gift. Why should there be such difficulty in understanding this when the words of Holy Scripture are so plain?
Pride rebels against such terms. It would rather pay, however small the price. But God is too rich in grace to sell His blessing; and man is far too poor to buy—because, morally, man is a bankrupt.
With His hands full of rich eternal blessing, God is ready to meet the sinner, if only the sinner will come with empty hands and receive it as a free gift. Will you?
O gift of life unspeakable
O gift of mercy all divine!
He tells me of a place of rest,
He tells me where my soul may flee;
Oh, to the weary, faint, opprest,
How sweet the bidding, "Come to Me."