IN an upper room are three young men—two are brothers, whose mother, a pious woman, had departed to be with Christ some years previously, and since then they have been living together in apartments. These are both strangers to grace and to God; the third is a Christian, who has just come in to stay the night, and leaves by an early train in the morning.
He has been there before, but, through lack of courage, had failed to speak to them of Christ. He has confessed this to his Lord, and once more he has an opportunity. It is getting late, but he has not yet spoken to his companions of their need of salvation, although earnestly desiring to do so. He is distressed lest the opportunity be again lost, so he silently asks help of the Lord to speak. A hymn presents itself to his mind, and, almost surprising himself at the peculiarity of the step, he sings aloud these verses:—
“We’ve no abiding city here:
This may distress the worldling’s mind,
But should not cost the saint a tear,
Who hopes a better rest to find.
“We’ve no abiding city here:
Sad truth were this to be our home!
But let the thought our spirits cheer—
We seek a city yet to come.
“We’ve no abiding city here:
We seek a city out of sight;
Sion its name—the Lord is there;
It shines with everlasting light.
“O sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest!
Had I the pinions of a dove
I’d fly to thee, and be at rest.
“But hush, my soul, nor dare repine:
The time my God appoints is best;
While here to do His will be mine,
And His to fix my time of rest.”
Weeks and months passed away, and the three friends met again, when the younger of the brothers reminded their friend of the hymn, saying he could not forget how happy he appeared to be while singing it. “And,” said he, “I am the fruit of it, for I am rejoicing in Christ as my Saviour.” And he recognized the answer to his mother’s prayers, long ago presented at the throne of grace, but not forgotten by the Hearer of prayer!
Shortly after the interview the young man removed to a town on the south coast, where he was used to the conversion of several, A few extracts from his letters will interest the reader:—
“I am thankful I have a Friend to whom to take my trouble and ask advice; if I had not I think this stroke would have taken my life.” He refers to a heavy trial, occasioned through the gambling of his brother. “My heart bleeds for my brother—would to God that my former life had not been a hindrance! Remember him in your prayers.”
Speaking of gospel service, he says, “I love the work; one of the meetings was the best, I think, I have attended. My soul seemed in raptures!”
Seven months later: “My health changes with the weather; one day I seem almost at death’s door, and the next, almost well; but I thank God from the depth of my heart I have no fear of death before my eyes, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ avails for me.’ I can never express my feelings, but the thought of being with Christ fills my soul with unspeakable joy.
“I can truly say that the things I once hated now I love, and what I once loved now I hate; but the longer I live the more I see my utter weakness and helplessness, my full dependence upon God.”
In the last letter received he writes, “What advantages the Christian has over those who know not God as their Father! Though I am at the present time in sorrow, and my hopes seem blighted, yet I can rejoice, for I know that my Father will cause all things to work together for good to them that love Him.
“How near the Lord seems. Sometimes we speak and almost expect to hear His voice in return, and feel His touch drawing us nearer to Himself; and so we do, in a voice so gentle and sweet that we feel our souls going out after Him, and the more we know of Him the more we want to know, and I don’t think we shall ever be satisfied with our knowledge of Him in this life.”
My young friend has now fallen asleep—he has found the better rest above.
D.