Reader, shall this word, “Lost,” be inscribed upon the tomb that buries all your hopes and joys? Will you be lost? Would you be lost in the wilderness, and left to famish with hunger, or perish among beasts of prey? Would you be lost at sea, and have your ship ground to fragments amid the roaring tumult of the breakers, and the ice-shore’s frowning wrath? Would you cling hopeless to a plank that glides away from your enfeebled grasp? Would you be lost in an abyss of vice and sin, and feel powerless to stem the tide of passion that swept you on to death? All these might be endured; but to be lost in dark eternity, to be dashed a wreck upon perdition’s stormy coast; to be plunged hopeless amid the surging billows of the lake of fire; to drop helpless in the jaws of the second death; to see the sun of joy and the stars of hope go out in the blackness of darkness forever and ever; to be lost from joy and peace, from life and love, from mercy and salvation, beyond remedy or rescue; ah! this you cannot bear.
Dare you take the risk? Do you put this danger far away? Do you say, “I do not intend to be lost?” Christ-less reader, you are lost now! Oh! your burdened heart, that has no peace; your guilty soul, that cannot rest; your secret anguish, which smiles may hide but fad to cure; your mocking jest, that spreads its curtain over a sickening, aching heart; your mournful memories, that haunt you like the shades of doom; your hollow calmness, that gives way to secret tears; yes! and the sting of conscience, and the word of truth, and the gospel of salvation, and the call of Providence, and the workings of the Holy Ghost, all these tell you that you are lost, even now; not fatally, not hopelessly lost, thank God, but yet you are lost, and need a Savior; lost, and require salvation! You are a lost sinner, but the Savior seeks for you today. You are a lost prodigal, but the Father waits to welcome your return. Will you come home? Will you be saved?
H. L. H.