During a series of Gospel meetings, I invited any to whom a visit in their homes would be acceptable to leave their names and addresses and I would endeavor to call upon them. That night a slip of paper was found on one of the seats, upon which was a lady's name and address.
The following afternoon as the clock struck three, I stood at the door of the house indicated. It was opened by the maid, who informed me that her mistress was not at home; but that if I wished particularly to see her, I would find her at her sister's house a few doors away.
Going there, the lady herself whose address I had, opened the door. She seemed very surprised to see me. I explained to her that her name and address had been left at the Gospel service on the previous evening, and I naturally had concluded that she was one who wished for a visit. In this I found that I was mistaken, for she was anything but pleased. She declared that she would like to know who had done that. I handed her the slip of paper upon which her name and address was clearly written, and said, "Perhaps you know the handwriting.”
She examined it carefully and replied, "That's my own handwriting, but I do not know how it got to your meeting. I must have dropped it somehow.”
"I believe that God's hand is in this," I said, "and so I am coming in to have a talk with you.”
Somewhat reluctantly she admitted me. After telling me that her sister was out shopping, she said, "She isn't a good woman, and she never goes anywhere to meeting. I wish you could induce her to come to your services.”
"Well, we must try; but what about yourself?" I asked.
"Oh, I'm all right! It's my sister that I'm troubled about," she quickly answered.
"Quite right, too; but had you not better first think about yourself? If you have not accepted Christ as your Savior, you are not all right. Indeed, you are in exactly the same danger of eternal loss as your sister who never goes anywhere.”
The young lady did not want to talk about herself, and while she was doing her best to avoid a personal reference, her sister walked in. She seemed very surprised to find a stranger in her house.
I hastened to explain to her the object of my visit, and invited her to come and hear the Gospel. As she did not look at all like a woman who would care to sacrifice worldly pleasure for the Gospel service on a week night, I suggested that she should come on the following Sunday. She gave me the most emphatic "No" that ever it has been my lot to receive, and she was really a most unpromising subject.
"Well," I said in response, "I think that you are wise in not promising to come to the service on Sunday evening. Long before then you may be dead, and-lost forever! Had we not better say Friday night instead?”
She did not answer so readily or emphatically this time, and it was evident that the shot had gone home. Still, she declined to make any promise for Friday.
I said, "The Book says, 'Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.' You had better not put off even until tomorrow, but come and hear the Word of God tonight.”
When she did not reply, I said to her sister, "You will bring her tonight, and may God bless you both.”
That night there they sat, side by side, in the Gospel meeting. Each of them listened with great interest as I told the lovely story of the Savior's death and resurrection; of the precious blood of Jesus that can make the worst of sinners fit for the presence of God, and of the hearty welcome that awaits every man, woman, and child that will come to Him. Then we sang Charlotte Elliot's hymn, than which none more suitable for anxious sinners was ever written in our English language:
"Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me;
And that Thou bid'st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come.”
I said, "I will repeat this first verse to you, my friends, leaving out certain words in it; if you are anxious to come to the Savior put in the missing words.”
So I read:
"Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for―”
There was a brief pause, and then from the corner where the sisters were sitting came clearly and distinctly the word "ME." It was the bad sister who "never went anywhere" who had said it―said it with all her heart.
"Thank God!" said more than one in that audience; and I turned back and repeated the lines again:
"Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for―”
Then we heard a duet, and in the ears of us who loved the Lord and sinners for His sake, it sounded most sweet, as both sisters put in the missing word, "ME!”
The bad sister and the one who thought she was good enough, together they took the sinner's place for whom the blood of Jesus was shed. And as I read to the ending of the last line―
"And that Thou bid'st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God―”
"COME," they said. Others too were emboldened to join in the same blessed decision, making music in the ears of heaven and in ours, for "joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." Luke 15:77I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance. (Luke 15:7).
It was a definite and never-to-be-regretted decision; and they found that He to whom they came was delighted to receive them, to keep them, to never let them slip from His all-powerful hand, but to be their Lord and never-changing Friend in time, and their joy forever.