A Lonely Heart
The sun shone gaily upon one of our popular beaches, and happy crowds thronged the shore, intent upon enjoying their holiday at the sea. Health, strength, and merriment seemed to pervade the scene, for "Youth was at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm." But as if to afford a contrast to the pleasure seekers, a little deformed woman, scarce four feet high, was slowly making her way along "the Promenade.”
As we strode along towards the lecture hall, this poor little misshapen thing, and the very nature of her affliction which debarred her from all those hopes most dear to a woman's heart, touched us deeply. We cried to God that, since so much that others enjoyed had been denied to her down here, He would recompense her by revealing to her His own love.
We soon reached our destination, where we were to hold a children's service on the sand. Here, awaiting us among their sand-castles, was a crowd of little ones, and many grown-up people as well. These had been attracted here daily by the simple story of God's grace.
We gave a few more touches to the seats, and then, passing out the hymn-books to willing hands, we were soon happily singing of the Savior's love.
As the hymn singing proceeded, we heard just behind us a shrill, child-like voice piping away. Turning to see who this hearty singer could be, our eyes fell on our little deformed friend of "the Promenade." As the children resumed their seats, and the speaker commenced his address, we whispered to her, sitting as she did just beside us, "We have been singing of Jesus' love; may I ask you, do you know it for yourself?”
"Oh, yes," she brightly replied, "I am glad to say I do.”
"And how long have you known it, may I ask?" "About eighteen months now.”
"What was it that led you to Him?”
"Oh, sir, I felt so lonely till Jesus filled my heart." Yes, she had felt lonely before. Now she has had the blessed company of Jesus, and she will feel lonely nevermore. Thus Jesus satisfied a lonely heart.
A Sinful Soul
She was in every way a most moral and respectable woman, the wife of the pew-opener at a certain church. Indeed, she was most regular in her attendance. But in spite of all this, she felt uneasy as to her sins.
One day, when the church deaconess called, she unburdened herself to her, expressing something of her anxiety. "Do you attend the sacrament?" asked the visitor.
"No, I do not," replied our friend, "for I have never been confirmed.”
"Oh, then you ought to be confirmed," said the district visitor. Our friend shortly afterward received a visit from the curate. He pressed upon her the obligation to perform this rite, explaining at the same time that seven other adult candidates would keep her company. "And," he added, "I assure you that if you are confirmed, you'll never regret it.”
She was duly confirmed and attended communion, but the curate's promise of blessing as a result was not fulfilled; for observing those who had been prepared for confirmation with her, she saw the continuance of their careless, godless, week-day lives. Meeting them on Sunday at the communion rail, and looking within at her own still poor sinful heart, she began to regret that she had ever been persuaded to take the step.
It was in this frame of mind that, taking a stroll one evening, she saw a tent being erected in a neighboring field. Inquiring of one of the onlookers what it was for, she was told that a gentleman was coming to preach "the new religion" there. Wondering what the new religion might be, and satisfied that her old religion had done her no good, she determined to attend on Sunday at the opening service and hear what the preacher had to say.
But the new religion proved to be not at all new. It was as old as the Passover night in Egypt, for the preacher took the twelfth chapter of Exodus and explained how judgment fell on every house there which was not sheltered by the blood of the sacrificial lamb. Similarly, he said, the judgment of God overhangs this guilty world, and will assuredly fall on all who fail to take shelter beneath the blood of Christ.
If our friend was uneasy before, she was in an agony of distress now. Guilty? Yes, was guilty, and by how much had she added to her guilt by attending communion: for what was the blood of Jesus to her? She was sure she had not taken shelter beneath it, and she was certain now that she had no right to be there.
At this moment the preacher gave out an announcement. He said that next evening he hoped to tell the story of his own conversion: how he, an infidel, had been saved and could now preach Christ. Accordingly next evening found our friend once more in the tent.
A Seeker after Truth
The preacher began by assuring his hearers that all that religion could do for him, had been done. He had been christened in Jordan water—but he had been christened in his sins. He had been confirmed at fourteen years of age—but he had been confirmed in his sins. He had attended communion, and had partaken of it in his sins.
Gradually the unsatisfactoriness of it all had burdened his mind. Besides, when he saw the unholy lives of many so-called Christians, he began to think that if this were Christianity, then Christianity was a sham.
What should he do? He turned to the Bible, but he could not understand it, for he had not received the Spirit of God to lead him into the truth of that blessed Book. He discarded the reading of the Word, and then he refused the company of all professors of religion. To him it was all a sham.
One may well imagine how in all this recounted experience, God was speaking to our anxious friend. She saw that step by step, their experience had been almost identical. There was only one conclusion: people, then, were shams, and the Bible was a sham. Was truth to be found anywhere? If so, the preacher said, he would find it!
As he read a novel one day he came across the tag end of St. Chrysostom's prayer: "Grant us in this world the knowledge of Thy truth, and in the world to come life everlasting." Here, then, were his longings formulated; he longed for truth, and for life everlasting. Now, though he had discarded revelation, he had not discarded God. He cried to Him, "Grant me in this world the knowledge of Thy truth, and in the world to come life everlasting." God heard his prayer; for directly afterward he was told that a famous evangelist was coming "to preach at the new church.”
Now by this time our seeker after truth had given up going to church except occasionally, for respectability's sake. When he went anywhere he went to "the old church," because the singing there was good and the sermons were short; and he thought that if you had religion at all, you had better have it lively. Still, he had heard this evangelist well spoken of, so he would go and hear him. He went and offered up his one prayer.
The evangelist was full of life and fire. Smiting mightily the pulpit, he thundered forth, "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life! Do you?”
"Do you?" Where could our infidel friend be? Had he mistaken his way, and strolled into a Ranter's Conventicle? Where were the proprieties?—where the generalities to which he had been from a child accustomed? This was no third-person-singular address, but a question which like a sharp-edge sword pierced him to the very soul.
Life eternal depended on the answer he could give to it; for "he that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life." John 3:3636He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him. (John 3:36). Life was found in Christ alone. He must, he would, he did, believe in Him. And as he left the church, he said to one who had accompanied him, "Thank God, I know that I have Everlasting Life." He had asked God to give him in this world knowledge of the truth, and God had granted this portion of his prayer, and given him the knowledge of His Son, who is the Truth. He had asked for life everlasting in the world to come; but God had gone beyond this request and given him the knowledge of eternal salvation While he was still here.
As the pew-opener's wife walked homewards with her husband, she, too, thanked God for sins forgiven.
Now everlasting life was hers! Later, with the tears running down her cheeks, she told the tent preacher of God's goodness to her, and added, "Oh, sir, how different now all is to me! What happiness! What joy! For now I know that His blood was shed, and His body given for me.”
My friend, do you not see how Jesus fills the lonely heart, as in the case of the little cripple? He will also satisfy and enlighten the heart that is humbly seeking after truth, and give assurance of the cleansing power of the blood to any who are anxious about their sins.
Reader, if you are still in your sins and longing for the peace of God to be yours, will you kneel down and make the ending of St. Chrysostom's prayer your own: "O God, grant me in this world the knowledge of Thy truth, and grant me in this world life everlasting, for Jesus Christ's sake?”
"He loves you, He wants you,
He died to redeem you;
Only believe His word.
There's nothing to do,
There's nothing to buy:
Remember 'twas for you He left
His mansion in the sky;
And now He's ready, He's willing,
He's able to save you;
Only believe His word.”