POOR troubled, weeping one, what would you not give to obtain that peace to which at present you are a stranger? You hove wept, and prayed, and afflicted yourself in various ways, and still, maybe, you are as far off as ever.
Perhaps you were told to pray and wait; and so you have prayed and waited till your load has become unbearable, and it seems as if it would crush you. The language of your troubled heart is, "No one could ever feel as I feel." You are filled with fears by day, and are afraid to close your eyes in sleep at night, lest you should awake in everlasting separation from God.
You may have wondered why God made you, and have said, “Oh! that I had never been born! Oh! that I were someone else, or something else, rather than who I am, and what I am There is hope for every one upon earth, but not for me. If I had been somebody else, I could hope. If I had been a dog, rather than one possessing an immortal soul, I could welcome death; but as it is, I am afraid to live, and I am not prepared to die. Oh! what shall I do?”
Ah! my dear friend, I know all about it. These were once my very words; this was exactly my case. But, blessed be God it is not so now. Now, I can praise Him, and long to be with Him.
But the secret of this long and continuous distress of mind is brought out in the very question, "What shall I do?" This is what I once said: "What shall I no?" And it was not till I saw that I had nothing to do, for that it was all done, that I had peace.
One day, while, with a broken heart, I was reading in the Gospel by John, I came upon these words, "Then said they (the Jews) unto Him (Christ), What shall we do that we might work the works of God?" (John 6:2828Then said they unto him, What shall we do, that we might work the works of God? (John 6:28).)
I cannot tell you what I felt. There seemed to be a whole world of thought passing through my mind between this question and the answer.
“Oh! '' I thought," now for the answer; and from Christ, too; that will do, whatever it is. Oh what did He say in answer?”
I read, "This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath sent.”
My dear friend, it is ALL DONE, and you have nothing to do.
I was one day sitting by the bed of a dying woman. After speaking a word or two, so' as to ascertain what she thought of her own bodily state, as to whether she had any hope of getting better; and finding that she had none, I said, "What about the eternal state?”
“Oh! well, I am doing all I can!”
“That is a bad sign," I said, "for all your doing is of no avail. Suppose you were a debtor, and I this morning called and paid the creditor every farthing, and brought the bill receipted with me, and offered it to you, what would you have to do towards paying it?”
I think she saw that she would only have to take it, and be thankful.
I then told her of her ruined state by nature, and of her complete helplessness as to satisfying God; but that ONE on the cross had so fully done it, and had there so fully atoned for sins, that there was nothing to do; it is all done.
Whether she saw and believed or not, I cannot tell, but I want you to see and believe this, and then you will be happy, too, as I am.