As I look at our picture today, many thoughts come to my mind. Can you tell me, little reader, what those thoughts are?
You may guess at them, or at some of them, for the picture may bring similar thoughts to different minds. Perhaps the spinning wheel makes us all think of olden days when our grandmothers and great grandmothers made their own thread and yarn.
Perhaps the pile of logs in the fire place with the tea-kettle overhanging, suggests to many of us a bright, cheerful fire and a cup of hot tea. So, looking at the same picture we know something of each other’s thoughts.
But here is another question. What is the dear little girl in the picture thinking about? You may guess. I may guess. But we don’t know. She could tell us if she wished to, but we cannot find out in any other way. We cannot read each other’s thoughts. We may clock brings her nearer to eternity. And then—?
Have you ever closely watched an hour-glass, my dear reader? Have you ever turned it over, and watched the sand grains as they slowly glided one after the other through the glass tube? Have you seen how a little pyramid forms in the lower part of the glass, which becomes greater and greater, till you at last cry out, “Now, half of the time is up”? Softly, incessantly glides the sand. You cannot hasten or hinder its speed. With steady almost awesome regularity the grains find their way to the bottom of the glass. There is now only a small quantity remaining in the upper portion of the glass. With rivetted attention you watch it—one second more, and the last little grain falls to the bottom. The glass is run out—everything is over.
The dying woman says she is not afraid of death. Does she know that her hour-glass has been turned over? that the sand is running unceasingly, that each moment brings her nearer to her end? Those standing round watching her, regard her with horror—they know what the end is, of those who “obey not the gospel,” who despise the riches of the mercy of God. The day of wrath and of the revelation of the righteous judgment of God draws near, and she is hastening to meet it.
Everything that lies on the other side of this life is darkness to her. She clings eagerly to the fleeting moment of the present, for she is afraid to look into the future. She does not know, or does not wish to know that the number of sins, yea, blasphemies against God which she has committed, hang like a heavy chain about her neck, and drag her down deeper and deeper into the abyss below. Yes, my reader, into the abyss below It is no phantasm of the imagination; it is earnest dreadful truth! But the unhappy woman will heed no warning word; and yet God says that there is only one way of escape given; only one object that the never dying soul of man can cling to, to keep him from going into the pit of destruction. “I have found a ransom,” the spotless Lamb of God. (Comp. Job 33:2424Then he is gracious unto him, and saith, Deliver him from going down to the pit: I have found a ransom. (Job 33:24).)
God has revealed Himself in His word. But the poor woman says, she does not believe it, and the Bible is only a beautiful book, like many others.
Meanwhile the sand grains are running unceasingly, soon the last will fall and then —?
Ah, my dear reader, there is a Heaven where God dwells, and there is a Hell, where Satan and all the lost will some time find their place. How awful must it be to wake up too late! How fearful to open the eyes in the place where Mercy, Hope and Love are things which belonged to the past, and where it is no longer possible to be saved.
My dear reader, how does it stand with you? Your hour glass is turned up, mine also, and the sand is running! Will the last grain find you “Safe in the arms of Jesus,” or will it drive you forth to “a land of darkness and of the shadow of death?” Who can say, whether your hour-glass may not have only five minutes more to run? Are you ready?
Messages of God’s Love 6/11/1911