“The blood was my first comfort, and I believe it will be my last comfort... I feel as though the Lord were leading me from earth to heaven, by the steps of the twenty-third Psalm:
“‘The Lord is my shepherd,... and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.'”
The words came slowly from the lips of a dying man—a doctor—passing away from a loving wife and children, in the prime of life, with a rest and joy in the Lord I have never seen surpassed. A few days later he passed away, with “Bless the Lord” on his lips.
Many physicians are infidels. Why, I cannot say. I would that all such could have seen this dear friend of mine patiently pass through months of weakness, always rejoicing in Christ, and then at the last bear witness to the comfort of the despised blood of Jesus.
Ah! there is no real foundation for the soul apart from the blood of Christ. That blood cleanseth from all sin, removes every stain, purges the conscience, purifies the soul, relieves the distressed and sin-burdened heart, and sets the one who trusts it perfectly free in the presence of God. Death is robbed of its sting, the grave of its victory, and “judgment to come” has no meaning for the one who rests only on that which the Holy Ghost calls “the precious blood of Christ.”
What folly can exceed that which despises God's only way of salvation—Jesus's blood? No solid real comfort is found apart from Christ and His blood.
What a portion is the Christian's! He has a title without a flaw, and a prospect without a cloud.
Infidel, what comfort will you have on your deathbed?