THE heart of man is like a barren field,
And fruit to God was never known to yield;
Its choicest flowers are but cultured weeds,
While thorns and thistles are its native seeds:
Nay, more than this, there lies beneath the soil
Far worse than what appears, however vile;
For there lies buried, to the heart innate,
To God, and all His grace, a thorough hate.
“THE world passeth away, and the lust thereof.” (1 John 2:1717And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever. (1 John 2:17).) The very scene in which we live and move is shifting, and all the pleasures men delight in are transient. “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Let us inquire, How much time can we call our own? How long is NOW to us? Let us place our hand upon our heart and find the answer. Hark! there is one throb; now there is silence! Can we say for certain, this heart shall beat again? No, we dare not. Then only the short interval of one heart-beat is ours, only that moment is our Now. The world is vanity; we ourselves are uncertain of another moment’s existence here; eternity is at hand; soon the heart will throb for the last time, and then forever and forever all will be real and unchangeable.
We implore you, dear reader, to ponder the word, Now. Too often you look indifferently, carelessly on this precious present moment which God gives you. You live as if this world was all reality and certainty, and eternity vanity and uncertainty; and you read God’s word, “Behold NOW the accepted time; behold NOW the day of salvation,” as if it were a future time, as tomorrow. Many thousands have done so before you, and so have forever lost their opportunity, the “more convenient season.” Soon, if not today, you will say, “It is all reality Now, all an eternal reality,” as you lift up your eyes in the place of torment, or as you gaze upon the glories of the Lord.
“Ah! it is all reality Now! heaven real, the love of the Lord Jesus real, all real!” said a dying youth yesterday to his parents. He had tried the world, and bitter had its deceptive vanities proved to him. He found the Lord, and oh, how sweet, how lasting was His love “Mother,” he could say, “indeed I love you, for you have been a precious mother to me, but I love my precious Jesus more.” When the last hour of his short world-day came, and the vanity and vexation of life was nearly past, he fixed his large eyes earnestly upon her and said, “Mother, God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosever believeth in Him should not perish, but have Everlasting life, ―EVERLASTING LIFE!” he almost shouted. Shortly after his spirit peacefully left his body, and was “with the Lord.”
At his special request we sang at his grave―
“Forever with the Lord!
Amen, so let it be!
Life from the dead is in that word;
‘Tis immortality!”
Surely you own, dear reader, that it is all real NOW with him.
If this life is vanity, eternity is reality. If NOW you bear the load of sin lightly, it will weigh you down HEREAFTER. A dying believer lately answered the question, “Where are your sins?” by saying, “My sins are under the blood of Jesus.” Where, dear reader, are your sins? Each one is written down in God’s book; each one will be had in everlasting remembrance, unless all are blotted out in the blood. The vain world will give you a shroud and grave, ―its gifts to kings and beggars, ―but when your body lies beneath the sod, where will be your soul? In happiness, if your sins are blotted out in the blood of Christ; in woe, if they are written in God’s great book.
If you NOW mourn over your sins, if you NOW earnestly long for everlasting life, you may receive comfort from hearing how a dear youth in one of our London hospitals found peace. Often and often on seeing him, the tears filled his eyes as he said, “I should not mind dying IF I only knew I was saved;” and when he was told month after month that all he had to do was simply to believe God, he would reply, “I cannot believe; my heart won’t believe.” But at length light broke into his soul. By the Spirit’s power he was enabled to believe in God’s salvation, and then what joy beamed from his bright and happy face! so bright, so calm, though stamped by death’s hand. Thus it was he said he found deliverance: “It was just as if I owed a great sum of money and had nothing to pay, and was too weak and ill to work out the debt, when some good man came and sheaved me a receipt, saying, It is all paid. Jesus paid the debt of my sins in His own blood, and God now gives me the receipt.”
Before this year ends your eyes may be dim in death, or earnestly looking upon the Lord. Should the Lord come, how will He find you? Nay; how is it with you Now?
“There is an hour when I must part
With all I hold most dear,
And life, with its best hopes, will then
As nothingness appear.
“There is an hour when I must look
On one eternity,
And nameless woe or blissful life
My endless portion be!”
Beloved fellow-Christian, may we have grace to use well our little but priceless wow! May we be diligent in prayer and in labor, finding out perishing sinners and trembling sheep! Might we not give to our Lord some hours which now go in the service of earthly vanity? How have the first two months of this year been spent―more wisely or not than the last months of the year that is gone? Shall we heed the cry of misery from hospitals, from poor and needy homes, from desolate hearts in workhouses, from the neglected courts of the crowded city, or from the lonely cottage in the country? Let us one and all solemnly and prayerfully, in the presence of our Lord, in the light of eternity, ask ourselves, How are we using OUR NOW?