WHAT do you think of me today, doctor?”
The speaker was a man in what we call the prime of life, but upon whose face the hectic flush and the sunken eye told only too plainly of consumption.
“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?" and he gazed anxiously up into the doctor's face.
There was a longer pause, and 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, and the past was 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 felt now that in all that there was nothing for God. He had only lived for himself and for this world, and 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 friendly words, and then took his leave, for he himself did not know
“That name most blest and precious,
All other names above;”
which alone can bring sunshine to the dark heart, and comfort in the dying hour. 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 that He might reveal Himself unto him.
The dying man's wife had heard what passed with the doctor, and had also noticed that look of anguish which came over her husband's face, and it filled her own heart with sorrow. What could she do? What could she say? Who could she send for? She did not yet know the Lord for herself, but 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 suddenly, and addressing her, 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 for me, and read it to me?” he said eagerly.
She got a Bible and opened it, but it seemed a big book in which to look for one little verse, and where should she find it? But the Spirit Who has been given to guide into all truth, and who delights to do so, was watching those dear seeking ones, and ere long the sick man's eye rested on those wondrous words in Isa. 1:18, which have anchored many a weary heart, " 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 came to this poor dying man.
“Read it again," he whispered eagerly; and 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 got a resting-place.
And what of you who have been reading these lines? You too are bound for eternity. It is much nearer than perhaps you think. Let me ask you, Are your sins of scarlet made white as snow? That is, are they gone? blotted out because another—even God's beloved Son—has borne the judgment due to them? or are they still upon you? "Oh," you say, “I am not yet upon my deathbed; I am strong and well, and have plenty of time to think of that again." Take care; remember you may not have a deathbed, you may be cut off in a moment as many a one is. Or the Lord may come, and if you are not one of His own, you will not be caught up with them to meet Him, but be left behind for judgment.
Besides, if it be blessed to die forgiven, it is also blessed to live forgiven; and let me tell you that the only thing which brought back the shadow on the face of the one of whom you have just been reading was this, " Oh that I had known of this when I was well, and had lived for Him who died for me; but now I am dying, going indeed to be forever with Him, but what a chance I have missed”
As the end drew near, one bent over him and asked, "On what are you resting?”
“A good foundation," he answered feebly.
And surely it was, when it was the word of the living God. Is that what you are resting on? If not, listen to His voice saying unto you, " 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.”
Let the response of your heart be,—
“Just as I am—and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come!”
Y. Z.