"What do you think of me today, doctor?”
The speaker was a man in what we call the prime of life; but upon his face the hectic flush and the sunken eyes told only too plainly of the ravages of tuberculosis.
"I think you are very ill," said the doctor quietly.
There was a short pause, and then the sick man spoke again. "What do you think of my case? Shall I get well again?" He gazed anxiously up into the doctor's face.
There was a longer pause. Then the doctor said, slowly but kindly: "No, my friend; I do not think you will. You are dying.”
A look of anguish and of despair came over the dying man's face. Eternity in all its reality was opening up before him, an eternity without hope, for the sins of the past were still unforgiven. He had been moral and upright in his ways before men, a good and steady workman, a kind and most affectionate husband and father; but he knew now that in all that there was nothing for God. He had lived only for himself and for this world. Now he was leaving it, and had nothing to rest on. Little wonder that his face reflected the trouble of his soul.
The doctor added a few kindly words, and then took his leave. What more could he do? For he himself did not know
"That Name most blest and precious,
All other names above.”
It alone can bring sunshine to the sin-hardened heart and comfort to a dying soul. But that love which hastened forth to meet the returning one in Luke 15 is ever on the watch for the faintest turning of the heart to Him. The Lord had indeed laid the strong man low, but it was in order that He might reveal Himself to him.
The dying man's wife had heard the conversation with the doctor; and that look of anguish which came over her husband's face had filled her heart with sorrow. What could she do? What could she say? Whom could she send for? She herself did not yet know the Savior; yet the cry of her heart was, "Lord, help us!" And the Lord did not just help; but, as He always does, He did it all.
One night very shortly after this, while she was sitting by her husband's bedside silently watching him, he looked up at her suddenly and said, "In the Bible isn't there something about scarlet being made white as snow?”
"Yes," she said, "I think there is.”
"Will you try to find it and read it to me?" he said eagerly.
She got a Bible and opened it. What a big book in which to look for one little verse! Where would she find it? God's blessed Spirit, who has been given to guide into all truth, and who delights to do so, was watching over those anxiously seeking ones, and ere long those wondrous words in Isa. 1:1818Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. (Isaiah 1:18) were found.
"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
As cold water to a thirsty soul, and as good news from a far country, so those words of life and power fell upon the ear of this poor dying man. "Read it again," he whispered eagerly.
Again she read, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
"Yes," he exclaimed, with a sigh of relief, "that will do for me; scarlet made as white as snow!”
The trouble, the anguish, the despair, were all gone. He had now found a resting place.
And what of you who have been reading these lines? You too are bound for eternity. It is much nearer perhaps than you think. Let me ask you: Are your sins of scarlet made as white as snow? Are they gone—blotted out, because another, God's beloved Son, has borne the judgment due to them? Or are they still upon you?
Consider now, beloved, and seek the assurance of sin's forgiven—the scarlet stain washed as white as snow in the precious blood of Jesus.