We were stationed in Malta, and I went ashore one night and wandered into a place where a soldier was preaching. He started with the hymn: "The Savior calls, oh! come and see
What things He hath prepared for thee."
The chorus, "Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out," really made me stop and think. Somehow or other, those words made me feel queer. "Him that cometh—him that cometh—him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out." It kept ringing in my ears, and I could not get it out.
As I went out the door the soldier shook hands with me and said, "God bless you, and make you very miserable!"
This coming on top of the hymn made me uncomfortable for sure, but I went again the next night. There was the same soldier up on the platform. Fixing his eyes on me right at the back of the hall, he said, "God loves you."
I tell you, that made me feel worse than ever. Presently, when he was through speaking, he walked straight down the hall and took a seat by me. Well, of course I tried to edge off, but just as far as I edged off he edged after me.
At last I said, "Here, I'm getting out of this," and he said, "I'm coming too!"
So we got outside, and he said, "You look very miserable," and I said, "I am," and he seemed really happy over it.
So I said, "A nice sort of man YOU are. You call yourself a Christian, but you have not a bit of sympathy in you."
He said, "I'll take you to the sympathizing Jesus," and so he just showed Him to me as the One that sympathized with and died for sinners, of whom I was one, sure enough. I put my claim in as a sinner and I received Him, that very night, as my Savior.
That is four years ago now, and ever since I've known that if the old ship goes down I shall go up.
Friend, God Loves You