“Are you a Christian?” asked a gentleman of a young lady.
“Of course I am; why I am a Sunday-school teacher, tract distributor, and a helper in every good work,” was the quick reply, and the speaker turned away in disgust at such a question being asked of her.
The momentary feeling of annoyance soon passed away, and with a self-satisfied smile she pursued her way.
Annie had been brought up in a good home, and from her earliest years had been a regular attendant at church.
When fifteen years of age she was asked by a Christian friend—
“Have you decided for Christ?”
“No,” was the frank reply.
“Will you decide now?”
“Yes, I will,” was the answer given after a moment’s hesitation, in which Annie thought,
“I shall have to decide, and why not now? mean to be a Christian, of course.”
Annie at once became a Sunday-school teacher and a communicant, and was considered by herself and others as a Christian.
At times an uneasy feeling would come over her when she heard one of Christ’s disciples speak of the peace and blessing of communion with Him and the joy of His service.
What did it mean? She knew nothing of this; her prayers were offered with unflinching regularity, but were very wearisome, and her religious duties were often tedious, but faithfully performed; yet she had decided to serve Christ, and was she not serving Him? Was she not the foremost in every good work? Was she not petted and sought after, and told how useful and clever she was, and held up as an example to others by those who ought to know what a Christian should be?
O! yes, she was as good as anybody, and better than a good many. And so she rested satisfied and put aside all thoughts that troubled her.
Alas! poor Annie; she was building upon the sand, striving to rear a structure without having first the foundation, and often, as she laid her head upon the pillow did she feel a soul-hunger a longing after something more satisfying.
Perhaps some who read these words are like Annie, building upon a false foundation, and know it not, and do not wish to know. It is so pleasant to feel that you are so good, and so clever, and so useful, that you do not like to be told that your goodness, and your labors, and your prayers are utterly valueless as a foundation upon which to rest the eternal interests of your immortal soul.
O! be warned in time; look well to the foundation, for “other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”
Time passed on, and Annie married the man of her choice, without a thought of consulting the Lord’s will in the matter. He appeared outwardly respectable and well-to-do, and that was enough for her.
In a little while she discovered that she had made a mistake, but right bravely did she strive to hide the fact from others, suffering in silence. Lonely indeed were the night watches when the poor wife waited hour after hour, while her husband was at the gambling table, regardless of her.
Things grew worse, until twelve months from the time Annie became a bride, she found herself deserted by her husband and laid upon a bed of sickness, with no apparent probability of recovery.
Where now was her religion? Ah! where? All before her was dark, and as she seemed to be on the point of death, no hope, no comfort was hers. She now realized that the righteousnesses in which she had trusted were but as filthy rags, and while contrary to all human expectation, she gradually recovered a measure of strength, fierce was the tumult that now raged within her. The Spirit of God held up before her the broken law, and she trembled. She, who had thought herself so good, now saw that she had broken every commandment in spirit, if not in the letter.
Again she set herself to the hopeless task of reform, but the more she tried, the worse she seemed to become, until she began to despair of ever being any better. Before, she had trusted in the regularity of formal prayers; now she was afraid to pray at all. She dared not repeat the Lord’s prayer, for how could she ask to be forgiven, when she was painfully conscious that she could not forgive.
She became more and more miserable, giving up herself as lost; but “He who came to seek and to save that which was lost” was tenderly watching over her; and after undermining the false foundation upon which she had been building, now led her on to the Rock.
Leaving the town in which she had been brought up, Annie went to reside in a country village; but change of scene could not bring change of heart. O! how she longed for peace, but her soul was like the troubled sea, and would not be lulled to rest.
On the first Sunday night after her arrival, she went to a religious service, drawn there only by force of habit, for she had now come to the conclusion that there was no hope for her.
Thus does Satan strive to keep sinners away from the Savior. First, persuading them that they do not need to come; then when their eyes are opened to the falsity of this statement, he goes to the opposite extreme, and tells them that their case is hopeless; it is too late; they cannot come to Him now. But he is a liar from the beginning, and both statements are equally false, for “there is none righteous, no, not one,” and “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” All need a Savior, and none need despair, therefore, for He is an almighty Savior, “able to save to the uttermost,” and He is even now tenderly saying,
“Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.”
“Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness He requireth
Is to feel your need of Him.”
Annie sat with a heart ill at ease until the preacher gave out as his text:
“The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.” 1 John 1:7.
The familiar words came to her as a new revelation. Like a flash of lightning, the Holy Spirit revealed to her the blessed truth they contained.
“Cleanseth! does it? cleanseth from all sin? all sin? Then it cleanseth me! even me! Thank God for that.”
In an instant the burden rolled away, and her heart was at rest. O! the joy of that moment!
Not a word of the sermon did Annie hear, she was too deeply engaged with the Savior, who had been so graciously revealed to her.
When she left the chapel, it seemed as if she was in another world; everything was changed, and her heart was so full of joy and praise that she could not help singing as she went along the country lanes.
The change soon became apparent in her life, for though her circumstances were the same, the spirit with which she met them was entirely different. Instead of having to struggle on alone, she now had a strong Arm on which to lean.
Again she began to work for Christ, but O! how differently! Instead of duty, it was her greatest delight. No longer did she place confidence in her own works as a means of salvation, but trusting only in the finished work of Christ, she rejoiced by glad and happy service to show forth the praises of Him who had called her out of darkness into light!
Before this she had been satisfied if she rigidly performed a certain amount of religious work, and received a proportionate amount of commendation from her friends. Now, with a heart filled to overflowing with love and gratitude, she longed to tell others of His wondrous love, and lead them to her Savior, without a thought of human praise—
“I’m a poor sinner and nothing at all,
But Jesus Christ is my all in all,”
was the language of her heart, and she was used as the instrument in His hands of winning many souls for Him.
Building upon a false foundation can only result in everlasting shame and disgrace; but when building on the true foundation, no matter what may come, all will be well for time and eternity.