Barbara, who was one of the lambs of the Good Shepherd, was a strong, high-spirited little child. She was one day lying on the floor busily engaged in playing with and arranging her toys, of which she was very fond, when suddenly a thoughtful expression passed over her face, and stopping short in the midst of an animated conversation with her doll, she rushed up to her mother, and said,
“Mother, tell me, is it really true that God loves little me; does He really love little Barbara?”
“Yes, my child,” said her mother. “God really loves you, little Barbara, and loved you so much that He sent His Son to die for you. He loved you, but He did not love your sins, which made you black all over in His sight, and it was because He loved you so much that He sent His only Son, Jesus, to suffer for you an the cross, that being washed in His Blood you might be made perfectly clean and white, and thus fit to dwell with Him in glory.
He loves you so much that He wanted to have you with Him, and He knew that nothing less than the precious Blood of Jesus could make you clean and white, and so God sent His Son to bleed and die on the bitter cross, that all who believe in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)). And you know,
‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’” Looking in mother’s face, Barbara said,
“Does Jesus love me more—better than you do, mother?”
“Yes, my child, far better. I have never died for you; the Lord Jesus has.”
“And does Jesus love me now?”
“Yes, my child. He loves you now, this moment, although He is in the glory.”
“Then I love Him! Then I love Him! Then I do love Him!”
Thus was the little girl led to rejoice in Christ’s love to her. From that day forward Barbara was a living testimony that she was the Lord’s. All around her noticed a marked change in her little ways. She would also always try and tell others how Jesus loved them, in her own childish way, with a beaming smile on her face, and if they did not heed it, or seemed touched with such divine love, she would look up, and say in the saddest tone,
“But don’t you love Him back again? I do.”
If little children knew the love
Which dwells in Jesus’ breast,
How would they come to Him by faith,
All anxious to be blest!
“Come unto Me,” He sweetly cries;
“Come, little children, come!
Come to My open arms and heart,
Come, to My happy Home!”
Thus Jesus speaks; who makes reply,
“O Lord, I come to Thee;
Thy precious love has won my heart.
Thine henceforth will I be.”
O, precious choice! If such be thine,
Then thou indeed art blest;
Peace thy companion here shall be,
There, everlasting rest!
ML 05/27/1945