ON a cold November night, a young girl stood at the door of a brightly-lighted Hall, and half-timidly looked in. A kind-looking man at once invited her to enter, and she soon took her seat among the numbers assembled to hear the preaching.
Some special services were being held at a considerable distance from her village, but Mary G. had thought little of the long walk, or of the biting cold, in her anxiety to hear “words whereby she might be saved.”
Only one week ago, she had entered that same hall without one thought about the value of her immortal soul, but it had pleased God, by means of that simple gospel service, to arouse Mary G. to a sense of her guilt; the work of conviction had begun in her soul, and, as the solemn words of the preacher had fallen on her ears, the girl had realized for the first time that she was, indeed, as the speaker said, “far from God by wicked works, lost, guilty, and undone.”
It had not been with Mary G. as is the case with too many who sit under the solemn ministry of some earnest-hearted evangelist, who hear and tremble at the word, but put off thinking more of the important question concerning the welfare of the soul till some convenient season. Mary G. had learned that she was a sinner, and she knew that she stood in danger of suffering all the awful consequences of that condition. This was the thought which had been uppermost in her mind, as, through the long hours of the past week, she had fulfilled her humble duties, and worked at her daily occupation.
It was the knowledge of this that had brought her again to the same spot, with this eager, unsatisfied longing for something which she did not possess.
But was there no loving, pitying Saviour looking down on her, as she sat listening again to the words of earnest entreaty falling from the lips of His messenger? Ah! well we know that there is never a need in the heart of any poor lost sinner, bowed down by the conscious sense of guilt, which the blessed Saviour does not delight to answer; and so it was on this night, so memorable in the history of Mary G.
As, with eyes fixed on the speaker, she listened eagerly to his stirring words, it seemed as if he spoke to her, and to her alone.
“Sinners,” said the preacher, solemnly, “it is to you I speak tonight. It is the sense of the awful condition in which I know you to be that makes me address you thus. Have you thought of your terrible state in the sight of a holy God? Sin is upon you. You go about your daily work, but sin is upon you―sin is in you. You lie down in your bed at night, sin is upon you―sin is in you. You wake up in the morning, and the same sin is ever about you―in all you do―all you say. You cannot alter this terrible fact, strive as you may. No, God looks at you just as you are―black, defiled, undone.”
Rising involuntarily from her seat at this moment, Mary G., unable longer to conceal her deep emotion, stretched out her hands in an imploring attitude, and, in a voice which was distinctly audible to the congregation, said, “That’s me.”
A thrill ran through many present, as the preacher turned to the spot where Mary G. was now standing.
“Thank God,” he said, as his eye rested on the girl’s tearful face― “thank God that He has thus led you to see yourself as you really are―a sinner fit for nothing but judgment. But sit down, and listen while I speak of Him who came to seek and save the lost.
Jesus, the spotless Son of God, came to put away sin. His blood was shed that, by believing in Him, you might be justified from all things. He died―the Just for the unjust―to bring us to God. He offers you pardon, and peace, and justification tonight.
Tonight He calls you. Listen to His own blessed word to every sinner who needs Him: ‘Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ And, again, He says, ‘Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.’”
Eagerly did Mary G. listen to the story of the love of a Saviour who had died for her. Light came to her soul, and she saw that the finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ had put away the terrible burden of her guilt forever. She was filled with joy, as she simply believed the message of a Saviour’s love to perishing sinners, and, with a heart full of love, praise, and gratitude, she returned to her humble dwelling a child of God by faith in Christ Jesus.
I would ask you, dear reader, have you ever seen yourself to be such a sinner in God’s sight that, like Mary G., you are constrained to cry out, “That’s me”? For all such a Saviour is waiting. Lovingly, gently He would plead with you. Resist no longer His words of tender entreaty. His arms are open to receive you. Let it not be said of you, at least, “Ye will not come to Me that ye might have life.” M. V. B.