William was a carpenter. When a boy in the Sunday school he learned to think of his soul and of eternity. But as he grew up, his business activities drove these thoughts from his mind, and he settled down to the duties of daily life as if he should live on and on and on. But one day, while lifting a big log, he strained himself. His strength gave way, and William had to exchange his business activities for a sick bed. There the lessons of his childhood came back to him, and his over-anxiety for the bread that perisheth was replaced by the cry of his soul, “What must I do to be saved?”
“Oh,” said he to me, “it goes hard with a backslider when he comes to lie upon a sick bed.”
“Yes, William,” I replied; “and it would go hard with us all if God should deal with us only according to what we deserve. But the precious blood of Christ cleanses the blackest heart from every sin.”
The next time I saw William, I found him grasping these words of Jesus: “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.” The Spirit of God had given him a sight of himself, and a sight of the Saviour. The burden of sin was rolled away, his sorrows were gone, and increasing pain and weakness only proved his patience.
A long illness set in, during which William’s faith was strengthened, and his love to Christ increased. One day he said, “I wish to die, that I may go to see my precious Jesus. Oh, what love it was in Him to find me out! I should never have come to Him, unless He had brought me. And what should I have done without Him? I should be where there would not be a drop of water to cool my burning tongue. Oh, the love of Jesus!—His hands, His feet, His side! He forgives and casts none out. None—none—none!” On one of the last days of his long and weary illness, I said, “Even today Jesus may say to you, William, ‘Thou shalt be with Me in paradise'.”
His sweet smile seemed to answer, “Oh, that it might be so!”
Later in the day he rallied, and said to his mother, “I want—I want—!”
“Well, my dear,” she asked, “what is it?”
“To sing,” he said, “and you, and Dad, and all join with me.” He then began—
“Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
This is your accepted hour,
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love and power; He is able!
He is willing! Doubt no more.”
As he proceeded, his eyes fixed on heaven, his voice grew louder, and for a time his soul seemed to gain victory over his bodily weakness.
“Come to Jesus!” he exclaimed, “Come, whosoever will! Come now, this is your accepted hour. Jesus will not cast any out! Jesus is ready to save you. Come to Jesus. None but Jesus can do helpless sinners good. Oh, come now, and do not delay; do not put it off. He will not cast anyone out.”
Then he begged his brothers and sisters to come to Christ. One of his sisters said, “Oh, William, we will pray.”
“That won’t do,” he replied, “you must come to Him, now, now! Ah, you little know what I suffer for your soul. The tears I have shed for myself are nothing compared to those which I have shed for you.”
And so he passed away. Dear reader, how many such appeals have you not heard? Come to Him who came to earth and died to save; who has gone to heaven, to bring to Himself up there everyone who received Him here.
ML-08/27/1978