Being asked by a friend to visit a dying man in the infirmary in Edinburgh, one before whom the simple truth as it is in Jesus had been put over and over again, and who seemed deeply exercised as to his state before God, but who as yet had not “peace with God,” I went. I found the dear fellow very grateful for a visit, and glad to hear the old, old story. He listened attentively to and acquiesced in the truth of it all, that “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life;” that God sends a message of love to all, and through His word by the Holy Ghost beseeches poor sinners to be reconciled to Him (2 Cor. 5:2020Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. (2 Corinthians 5:20)).
Spite of all this I could see, and he frankly owned, that he had not the joy of these blessed truths in his own soul. Looking up for guidance I tried every way I knew to put the good news before him. The same ready acknowledgment as to the TRUTH of it all followed, but still no peace, no joy.
At last I told the dear man that there must be a something between his soul and God that none of us―those who had visited him―could get at, and that he must have it out with Him; some “twig” he was still clinging to; and I then repeated to him the well-known story of the boy who, while wandering along the edge of a high cliff on the sea shore, tripped his foot, and over he went. In his agony of fright, his hands mechanically clutched at the first thing they touched, this happened to be a twig of a small bush growing on the face of the cliff. His fall was for the moment arrested, and there he hung, shouting for his father, who was not far off he knew. The father heard the cry of his child, looked over the edge of the precipice, at once grasped the danger, saw he could not help him from above, got down to a ledge of rock many feet below the lad, and called out to him to let himself drop. The boy still kept on screaming for help, his little arms growing every instant more weary, his hold on the frail twig getting weaker, and it seemed as if it were slipping, slipping through his poor aching fingers. His father again spoke, reminded his son of his strength, his ability to catch him; all, however, was of no avail; the terrified child still clung, and still screamed for help. At last the father shouts in a tone of authority, “Let go that twig, I command you, let it go;” the word was obeyed, the little hands opened, and straight into the strong, strong arms of his loving father dropped the frightened boy.
“Now,” I said, “I don’t know what it is, but you are clinging to some twig or other. You see yourself a sinner, you bow to what God says His Son has done for such, yet you have not peace with that blessed God. Whether it is your prayers, or your repentance, or your something else―self in some shape―that you are still hanging on to and so not resting simply on the word of the living, loving God, who gave His Son, I can’t tell. You must go to Him about it; my parting word to you is, Let go that twig, and you will find yourself a poor, foolish, struggling thing in the everlasting arms’ safe―saved to all eternity.” With this I left the dear man, looking to the Lord to take him in hand.
On my next visit, a few days after, I happened to enter the long ward at the end farthest from his bed. However, he soon caught sight of me advancing towards him. The expression of joy, of triumph, which lit up his face was indescribable, and, while yet a good way off his bed, he quite shouted with laughter, and said, “I’ve let go the twig―I’ve let go the twig.” My own thought was that the nurses and the other patients would consider the dear man had gone clean out of his mind, as it was, he had really “Come to himself.” There was no mistake about it, however, he HAD let go the twig, and he was resting on the word of God about the finished work of the Lord Jesus, and what it says of His satisfaction in it, in that He raised His Son from among the dead, seated Him at His own right hand, and sent down the Spirit to testify, through the word, of accomplished redemption, and of His delight in the One who did it.
Just as I had judged, the clear man had been secretly clinging to something of his own―as he now owned―mixing up his prayers with Christ’s finished work, looking for better feelings in himself, and judging of his Acceptance by his feelings instead of by God’s word; but, through mercy, between the time of leaving him with the words “Let go that twig,” and my present visit, when he met me with the shout, “I HAVE let go that twig,” light had broken in with power upon his soul, and he had discovered that all his unrest, lack of peace, and absence of joy, resulted from his being occupied with his belief in the truth rather than with God’s word itself; his love to, and thoughts about God instead of God’s love and thoughts of good to him. But he had been turned right round to God’s side of things, hence his unclouded joy and undisturbed peace. We had a blessed time together, praising God for all His wondrous love, and the way He takes to manifest it. This peace and joy remained unclouded to the end, through a time of intense bodily suffering when, not many days after, he departed to be with Christ.
And now, dear reader, let me ask you, have you let go the twig? Do you ask, “What is it”?
Self in some shape or other, and most likely religious self for I would address those who have had some exercise of soul as to what they are before God, and yet do not like to look on the truth, as to what they REALLY ARE in His sight, full in the face; will admit they are sinners, but afraid to own they are “LOST,” and “without strength” to be anything else, consequently are struggling and striving to be, or do something, and thus really getting deeper and deeper into the mud.
Oh, may you be led to give all this up.
One knows something of the terrible exercises, many quickened souls go through, and the more earnest and honest they are the deeper the exercise. How often one hears such saying, “Must not I?” “What can I?” or, “What may I?” That's just the twig—I, I, I. Oh, let it go, turn from it, may be from sheer exhaustion, downright despair even, and to your intense surprise and unbounded relief, find that salvation and peace are in what Christ is, and not what “I” is. You will then find what the dear man one has been speaking of, found, the marvelous relief and rest it is to learn that God has been glorified by the 1vork of His dear Son. He has been, is, infinitely satisfied with IT and HIM, and wants you—poor self-accused one—to be satisfied with this blessed One. Disheartened, downcast as you are, and ever must be as long as twig “I” is clung to, God would have you look up, OUT OF YOURSELF, and see in Him, the ascended, seated man in the glory, an object, His object, that will induce you to let go everything, and find all your joy in Him. May the word of God come in and separate you from THIS TWIG if you won’t let it go. “Sanctify (set apart, separate) them through truth, thy word is truth” (John 17:1717Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth. (John 17:17)).
S. V. H.