A few years ago a gentleman had occasion to visit a little town in Kent. He missed the train by which he intended to return, and, finding that he had two hours to wait before another train for London should arrive, to pass the time he bought a novel, and, comfortably seating himself in the waiting room, was soon lost in his story.
Shortly after, two young men entered, and seated themselves not far from him. The elder of the two had sometime before beer brought to the knowledge of the Lord, while his companion had only the day before found Christ as his Savior, and, in glowing language, he was telling of his newly found joy.
Quite unintentionally, the subject of our story overheard their conversation. He listened at first with the quiet smile of one who hears the ravings of an enthusiast; but the joyful earnestness of the speaker made hire feel the reality of the words which he uttered and they took a firm hold upon him.
He rose hastily and left the waiting room, but still he seemed to hear that young voice repeating its bright testimony. His hear) craved rest―happiness — something certain to cling to in this world of shadows and unreality. If Christ, he thought, could give such a joy and happiness as these two lads possessed, how willingly would he surrender his fortune, his all, to be the possessor of such a treasure.
The train came up, and he left the station; but the impression which he had received remained, and for some time he was in a state of deep anguish of soul―an anguish bordering on despair. He was as one walking in a labyrinth, who cannot find the clue to the way home. How blessed it is to know that every desire of the soul, aimless and wandering as it may seem, is marked by the gracious eye of Him who never for one moment ceases in His care for the poor weary heart, which it is His purpose to fill with His own peace I Often did that gentleman pray that he might see those young men again, whose testimony had awakened him to a sense of His distance from God and need of His grace. He had no idea who or where they were; but one afternoon, about three months after the memorable conversation which he had overheard, the thought struck him that they might belong to the place where he had seen them, and he determined to try and find them out. Taking a ticket for C―, he was soon speeding on his way, with many a misgiving lest his journey should be in vain. The train stopped at the first station, a passenger entered, and the gentleman of whom we write, glancing at him, immediately asked himself where he had seen the face before. Yes, surely he could not be mistaken; he had already found the one he was in quest of, for his fellow traveler was none other than the elder of the two young companions who had spoken together in the waiting room three months before.
He introduced himself, and told his tale to a willing listener, who pointed him to Jesus for pardon and peace, and told him that he was dishonoring God by trying to save himself, while he had only to believe what God said and trust in the finished work of Christ.
The train again stopped. The seeker after Christ and his companion stepped upon the platform, and there in that waiting room, where the Lord had first spoken to his soul, He spoke again, but this time the words were words of peace.
Having found Christ and rest in Him, the subject of this story became at once a bright and active worker for Him. The name of Jesus was ever on his lips and in his heart, and he longed to make that saving name, that name of power, known far and wide.
Beloved reader, are you resting your soul on the finished work of Christ? Nothing else will do. Every other prop will slip from under you, but resting on Jesus, the sure foundation, you are secure. Be not deceived; do not put off the great question of your soul’s salvation. God places peace and pardon before you today, but not tomorrow. Oh, come, and, in coming, find rest to your soul. K. R.