A YOUNG Jewess had in some way become possessed of a New Testament: she read it, and became convinced that Jesus was indeed their Messiah; but, young and gentle, fearing the resentment of her friends, she kept her conversion a secret, till one night that she and her mother were sitting up alone until midnight. In conversation, something about Christians was brought up. “Do you love Christians?” asked the mother, in astonishment.
“Yes,” was the reply.
“Why, they are all bad people. Why do you say you love them?”
“Oh, no! they are good people—they love God.”
“Christians love God! —impossible. They follow the accursed Nazarene.”
“Nay, my Mother, but they must love God, for they love Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ is love,” said the girl, with trembling voice and beating heart.
“And”, said the mother, starting up, a sudden suspicion darting through her mind, “do you love Jesus Christ?”
There was a mighty struggle in the heart of the Jewish maiden, but she looked to the Lord for strength, and He helped her to reply, calmly and unthinkingly, “Yes, my Mother, I do.” Bitter and stormy was the scene that followed; but He was there, who will never forsake His weak ones in the hour of trial, and He made that bruised reed an oak, in the day of His east wind; she quailed not—not even when the door of her childhood’s home was opened, and the choice given her to go forth in the dark, stormy midnight, or deny her newly-found Saviour. She did not deny Him, and the mother thrust forth her fair, tenderly-reared daughter—the timid, gentle girl of seventeen summers—alone and forever, from her heart and home.
As she stood in the rain and darkness, not knowing where to turn, Satan drew near, and whispered dark doubts in her ear; but she sunk on her knees upon the cold, wet ground, and prayed, “Lord Jesus, if Thou art indeed my Messiah, take me to Thy friends!” and He did guide her to the house of the Christian Missionary, by whom she was kindly and tenderly received, and ultimately provided for ; but nothing could induce her friends to have any further intercourse with her.
Oh! dear young friends, let us thank our Heavenly Father that such fearful trials fall not to our lot. How often are we inclined to murmur when called to resign some trifle for Christ.
Oh! for grace, even as this dear young daughter of Abraham, to leave all, and follow Christ. But do you think she ever regretted having found Him of whom Moses, in the law and the prophets did write? Ah, no! in the midst of all her griefs, she was more than conqueror through Him who loved her.
ML 02/15/1903