On a big construction project some years ago a workman was buried, except for his head and one arm, beneath tons of gravel. No rescue was possible. He was conscious, but his life was fast ebbing away.
The men of the crew stood around aghast and helpless. The foreman told the victim that he was dying and asked if there were anything he could do for him.
"Yes!" he cried frantically. "Yes! I am about to face Almighty God. Tell me what to do! What do you know, man, what do you know?"
The foreman turned to the crowd that had gathered and said, "Which of you are Christians? Quickly, somebody come forward and tell this man what he needs to know."
The men looked at each other—looked away—shuffled their feet—edged backward a little. Finally one said hesitantly, "I could pray for him, I guess."
But the dying man cried, "Tell me, what do you know? What do you know?"
The foreman shouted, "Tell him, somebody, or God have mercy on our souls!"
Just then a young man pushed his way through the crowd and said, "I can tell him all he needs to know, Boss!"
"What do you know?" demanded the victim and foreman in unison.
"I know, man; I know what it took to save my soul, and mine was wicked."
He dropped on his knees beside the sufferer. Taking the one limp hand in both of his, he began doing what any other man there would have given much to be able to do.
"First," said the youth, "if you have to go before I can tell you the rest, just keep remembering that Jesus said, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.' Do you get it?"
Suddenly the face that had been drawn with pain and terror changed and became deathly pale. The young man cried, "He is reaching out His arms that were stretched on the cross for you! Go into 'em, man!"
"Jesus!" gasped the dying man, "Jesus!" The terror faded into a sudden radiance:."Oh, thank you, Jesus— Jesus—Lord!"
What a mercy that he had those few minutes of life! What a mercy that there was one there who could tell him quickly what he so desperately needed to know! It is not always so. This week, here in this city, another man was crushed to death under falling slabs of concrete on a construction job. A witness said, "He didn't have a chance. He didn't even holler."
True, he didn't have even one minute at the last, but he had had over fifty years of life to prepare for that final catastrophe. It would be only common sense for us, the living, to ask ourselves, "Am I prepared for a sudden, fatal accident if it should occur right now? What do I know that would make it possible for me—the real me—to survive triumphantly no matter what happens?"
The question that should be in each of our minds is: Am I ready to meet God? What kind of insurance do I have for life and happiness a hundred or a thousand years from now? What will I have when the days come when gold and silver, stocks and bonds, automobiles and television sets, microwave ovens and deep freezers, warranty deeds and swimming pools, mink coats and round-the-world flights will not be worth a penny a dozen? What do I know?
Can I say honestly, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day"? Can you?
We can know. Do you?