WE often meet with people who say they have plenty of time to think about their souls when they get old, or upon their dying beds. Now, though I believe that while there is life, there is hope, and while there is hope, there is room for prayer, still, from my experience, I cannot have much faith in death-bed repentance.
When I was about nineteen years old, I got a situation on the railway; I had been there only eight days, when I was knocked down by a train: it passed over me, completely severing my right arm and left hand, and causing other slight injuries. My mates picked me up, and took me to the hospital, where I was kindly and skillfully treated.
My friends, and a great many who saw me, thought that my end on earth had come, and that I was on my dying bed. Although I was sensible, and had lived a careless and sinful life, I had no anxious thought about my eternal welfare, and no desire to pray. If I had died then, I must have been lost.
But although I had been so near death, and had been so mercifully restored, I continued to live in sin, and never went to any place of worship, nor did I read God’s Word. I came to London, and on Sunday afternoons used to go for a walk in the park. One Sunday I was in the park as usual, when I was attracted by some sweet singing.
After the singing was ended, a man began to speak to the large crowd of people, and he took these words for his text: “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.” He explained the words in a simple and plain way, such as I had never heard before, and I could see then and there, my eyes being opened, that he who forsakes his sins, and believes on Jesus with the heart, has everlasting life, now, in this present time―yes, has it, not hopes to have it, and has it now, and not when he dies. A present salvation is promised to those who put their trust in Jesus.
I have told you, reader, what I lost through the railway accident, and I have told you what I have found by God’s grace in Christ.
I will now speak of a young man, about my own age, and who also worked on the railway. S. J. had a great many Christian friends, who often spoke to him about his soul, but he used to say he was going to enjoy himself, and there would be plenty of time for him to think about religion when he got older. Thus he continued his sinful course.
One day, when at work as usual with his mates on the railway, he, too, met with a very serious accident. His mates took him into a building close by, while another one ran for a doctor. Poor S. J. felt his end was near. He looked at his mates, and begged them to pray for him; they looked at one another, and not one of them knew how, and not one of them could point him to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. Feeling very grieved for poor S., one of them ran for a Christian lady who lived close by, and asked her to come and pray with his mate who was dying. As soon as the lady reached the young man’s side, he said, ‘It is too late, I am lost,’ and expired.
When I remember my own indifference as I lay on what I thought was the bed of death, and as I think of poor S. J.’s sad end, I have not much faith in death-bed repentance.
You, dear reader, may not be suddenly called hence, as was this young man, but you must stand before the judgment seat of Christ. Imagine it for a moment, if you can, and, with the picture before your mind, ask yourself, “How will it be with me then?” How is it with you now? Have you felt yourself to be a lost and guilty sinner? Have you fled to Jesus as your only hope for time and for eternity? If not, you will be unable to do so then.
O unconcerned reader, God has had long patience with you, and you have not given heed. His patience may soon be exhausted, and turned into wrath. In that solemn hour what will you do? Will pleasure be pleasure then? Will the world’s gay glitter bewilder you then? Have you made up your mind to sleep on, and to take your rest? To love darkness now, is to dwell in darkness forever. Is there nothing terrible in everlasting punishment? Is there nothing sweet in the light of heaven, or the glory which God hath prepared for those that love Him. Is there nothing desirable in the joy of the Lord, the peace that passeth understanding? Is guilt better than pardon? Is death better than life?
Dear reader, trifle not with your Maker; the door of mercy is still open, and again God is asking you to enter in; be persuaded, the fountain for sin is open, and Jesus waits to welcome you. He asks no price, no gift, no preparation; come just as you are, in all your sin, no matter how guilty you are, or how fat you have strayed, or how long you have slighted Him, only come.
“The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin,” He says, Come, and each sorrow of His says, Come. “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool;” and Jesus says, “Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out.”
Do not rely on the witness of another, but search for yourself, and see that these things are so. “O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in Him.”
I have written this with my artificial hand, for, as I have said, I have lost my hands, but I have found life and peace in Jesus; and may you also, dear reader, find the Saviour; for He gives perfect peace and perfect joy, as I rejoice to testify. S. S.