An account of some visits lately pall to one who sought, found, and departed to be with Jesus.
ON visiting a widow (who had recently been brought to seek Jesus as her Saviour), she begged me with great earnestness to visit her sick neighbor, who occupied an upper room in the same house: for, said her anxious friend, I promised to ask anyone who came to see me to go and see her; for she begins to fear all is not right with her.
I lost no time in seeing her, and found she was suffering from an internal complaint, which would finally prove fatal. I was welcomed with great joy, as she earnestly desired salvation. But there was a great and painful lesson for this dear woman to learn. It was to come, as a poor lost sinner (having nothing of her own to trust in), to the finished and complete work of Jesus on the cross. “I have led such a good life: I have attended church two or three times a day, and I have never done any one any harm; won’t the Lord have mercy upon me?” Such were her constant pleas. For a long time she seemed unable to cast herself, as a hell-deserving sinner, upon the Lord, without adding her own righteousness, so that my visits at this time appeared unpleasant to her.
But the Lord graciously revealed to her, by the mighty power of His Spirit, that she was an utterly lost, ruined sinner in herself. Then her cry was not, I have done this, or that, but, “All I want is Jesus.” “You need not tell me I am a sinner now,” she would say; “but tell me about that Jesus who died for sinners-yes, even His enemies.” And the blessed Lord Jesus heard and answered her cries, according to the truth of those words, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”
Having left her one day weeping bitterly under the crushing load of her sins, great was my joy on the following day to find her countenance beaming with delight, and to hear her express herself as follows—slowly and distinctly, as if fearful of losing the blessing: “This morning, at five or six o’clock, Jesus spoke to me—and, oh, those blessed words!― ‘Thy sins are all forgiven; thou art washed as white as snow.’ The blessed voice seemed to come from behind my pillow, and I cried, ‘Here am I, Lord Jesus!’ and Jesus answered, ‘Thou art mine!’” She then looked at me earnestly, and said, “It is no mistake; my joy has been so great ever since I heard those words, and my peace is all in Jesus.”
With the full assurance of sin pardoned, and put away through the sacrifice of Jesus, she soon after fell asleep, which was to her, “absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” Almost her last words were, “I have no more fear of death than of this bed.” The voice of Jesus heard and responded to by the soul was never to be forgotten by her. Again and again, through the remainder of her illness, she would repeat them, always adding, “My blessed Jesus! My heavenly Father!”
A Christian brother, who repeatedly visited her, says, “On visiting her with Mr. F―, she spoke much of her former life, God’s goodness and mercy to her, and that now she had left all and did ‘stick to Christ.’”
On a visit one week day evening with Mrs. C―, after prayer, and on being about to quit the room, we sang over her bed, “Forever with the Lord,” with the chorus, “Nearer home.” She was filled with joy and gladness, and we heard her, as we were leaving the room, saying, “Nearer home, nearer home.”
The Sunday afternoon before her death, in company with our Br. F―, I called again to see her. We found her very weak, and nearly gone. We desired her not to speak to us. After reading the Word, speaking about the home above, and commending her to the Lord, we made toward the door to leave the room, when her daughter, who was in attendance, said, “Mr. C―, mother has been continually talking about you ever since you were here last; she was singing that hymn all night, and ever since she breaks out occasion ally with those words, “Nearer home, nearer home,” and now she desires that you would sing it again. It was a solemn time, the life fast ebbing out of the dying woman, yet she joined in the singing, as well as she could, while we sung over her dying bed, “Forever with the Lord. A day’s march nearer home.” We left her full of joy and gladness, saying, “Nearer home, nearer home.” It was a time not to be easily forgotten, for we never saw her more; she fell asleep three afterwards.”