“Knock, knock.”
Let’s open the door and see who’s there.
“How do you do,” says a-friendly looking, stranger, who takes his hat off, and adds rather abruptly,
“Say, I’m lost.”
Way out in the rolling hills of the wheat country, about ten miles from town at a crossroad; —it isn’t surpring that we have many travelers stop to inquire the way, in spite of the signposts here and there. But this was the first person that came out honestly and frankly with the admission that he was lost; though the majority of all inquirers are in exactly the same fix, and prove so by pointing west and at the same time saying “North” and keeping a very straight face all the while.
We are all travelers, toward our destiny, Are you sure you are on the road to the right destination?
How is it, then, that most everybody with the most vague and flimsy ideas, will assure themselves and others, that “in the end everything will turn out all right?”
“Are you saved?” a man was asked.
“No.”
Well, are you lost?” another questioned,
“No.”
Finally, Mr. Borland from behind, leaned forward and quietly asked,
“Where is a man, when he does not know where he is?”
All right now, you have arrived at a most vital crossroad in your life,
What then does God’s sign post say?
Will you not say in your heart,
“Jesus bore the punishment for my sins on the cross, and I now accept the way He has opened to heaven for me?”
ML 04/29/1945