Under the Blood

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 5
 
Rob Kincaid was "skeptically inclined." Like Festus, he supposed, he reasoned, and he doubted concerning the truths of the Bible. Also like that rationalist, he thought it a matter of superstition on the part of those who affirmed that Jesus who had died was risen again. This, however, was only on the surface. Deep down was an undercurrent, restless and disturbed.
The truth is Rob Kincaid had had a Christian father, one who believed in Jesus Christ and feared God. His godly life had left its imprint on his boy. While quite young, Rob's mind had been impressed; and years of contact with the world had failed to brush away those early impressions.
Unknown to any but to God and to himself, he had gone through serious struggles with his conscience.
Sickness came upon him, and his once powerful frame was brought down by deadly disease to the weakness of a child. It became fairly certain that soon he must pass out of this world. An endless future was before him; a God whom he had sinned against was to be met; judgment was his appointment. He was awakened, aroused, and alarmed. He thought of his boyhood, his early impressions, and a life consistent only with his own will and vanity. What must he do? Self-righteous he had been; he was not so now. The truth had come upon him: "There is none righteous, no, not one."
Like the balm of Gilead to a throbbing wound, he remembered that his beloved father had spoken to him of the blood of Jesus. This soothed his troubled conscience; but at present he knew very little of the efficacy of that precious blood. He had not yet grasped by faith that it "cleanseth from all sin."
At this time the Lord guided one or two of His servants to visit the sick man, and they through grace were enabled to put the gospel of the love of God before him. He believed the gospel, received the Savior, and was saved.
The reader may now be prepared to hear that Rob Kincaid peacefully passed out of this world into glory, but no. Contrary to what might have been expected, and what even the medical men who attended him believed, the sick man rallied, rapidly gained strength, and appeared to be quite recovered.
Some had thought it a case of cancer; but now the still pallid cheek wore an appearance more like health. He became an object of interest to all, and more so to those who had a care for his spiritual state. Would he continue to show the same desire for the things of God, or would he now turn back to the things of the world? To our joy he went on, perhaps slowly; but his desire for the Word of God increased rather than decreased. It seemed as though he had been raised up to give assurance to others of the reality of simple faith in Christ.
But after a few months the old symptoms returned, and rapidly Rob grew weaker and weaker. Springtime was coming on. How he had longed to be raised up the previous spring! His desire had been granted. Now that desire as regards the coming of spring was gone. A fairer vision filled his heart as he now looked forward to where "everlasting spring abides."
One morning, too weak to arise, he had been reading his Bible. Letting it drop from his hands upon the table at the side of his bed, he said to his wife who was in the room: "The blood on the door; that's where I am."
These were the last words he spoke with distinctness before "he fell asleep." Under the shelter of the blood. Blessed place of security! Beloved reader, where are you? Are you sheltered? By what? If by anything but that which God in His mercy has provided, you will discover that it will prove to be like the covering: "narrower than a man can wrap himself in it," or like a bed "shorter than a man can stretch himself on it." "All have sinned and come short." Seek the shelter of the blood of Christ NOW, before it is too late.
"Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins." 1 John 4:10.