“I THOUGHT that you would be pleased to 1 know that my heavy load of sin seemed to leave me on Sunday night at a quarter to eight.”
So wrote an old lady whom I had been visiting for many years.
When first I went to see her at the request of her Christian sister-in-law, she was a fine-looking woman, handsomely dressed, and apparently in prosperous circumstances. She said she was anxious to be saved, and was trying to be a Christian.
I assured her that she would never be saved by “trying to be a Christian,” for “Christ came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:1515This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. (1 Timothy 1:15)), not to help them to save themselves.
It was evident, however, that her soul’s salvation was not a matter of life and death to her, but was only one out of many things which occupied her mind.
Doubtless trouble was needed before she would turn to God with all her heart, and so it came to pass.
First, she an her husband became bankrupt, after losing nearly all they possessed. Then he died, leaving her dependent on others.
Soon after she fell and broke her thigh bone. It was badly set, and henceforth she could only hobble about the house with the aid of a stick, or by holding on to the furniture.
After her accident a sister, looking upon it as an irksome duty, had come to live with her in her cottage home, where the only reminder of better days was some of the handsome drawing-room furniture, which crowded up the small sitting room.
“You know she does not like living with me here,” said poor Mrs. —, with the tears rolling down her face, “but they don’t know what to do with me if she leaves. I do feel it, being such a burden.”
Adversity, however, had done its needed work, and now, bankrupt in all this world could give, she turned to Him who alone could give her true happiness.
Strange to say, though her soul’s salvation was now her chief concern, it was several years before she wrote that note, saying her sins were gone.
I visited her frequently, and put the way of salvation before her as plainly as I could, that without work or merit on her part, God offered her full forgiveness on the ground of Christ’s atoning death and blood-shedding. All she had to do was to come as a sinner to Christ, who “came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:1515This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. (1 Timothy 1:15)), and whose blood could cleanse her from all sin (see 1 John 1:77But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin. (1 John 1:7)).
But on my next visit the sad words, slightly varied, always awaited me, “No, I can’t get it, and yet I do try.” Then once more I would tell her that it was not “trying” but believing—appropriating for herself what Christ had done for her by dying in her stead on Calvary’s cross.
With evident sincerity she assured me there was no hindrance in her life to the reception of the blessing. Then was she looking for some “inward feeling” first? Her answer to this was not so satisfactory, and I felt sure that here was the hindrance, as is so often with anxious souls, who wait for some “inward change” (which never comes), instead of at once taking God at His word and being saved. I pointed her to the words, “Joy and peace in believing” (Rom. 15:1313Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost. (Romans 15:13)), that joy and peace are the results of believing, and are not preparatory to it. To expect to feel saved, or rather to know it, before trusting Christ as Saviour, is like expecting the thirst to be quenched before the water is put to the lips!
As months went by I was beginning to wonder if she ever would be saved, when I got her note with its glad news.
“I thought I ought to let you know at once, for you have borne so long with me,” she said when I went to her.
“And how did it come about at last?” I inquired.
“Well, on Sunday night I was reading that verse, ‘The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all’ (Isa, 53:6), and as I kept thinking and thinking about it, all at once my load of sin seemed to leave me. I could almost see it rolling off me.
“I thought of the old picture in ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ where Christian with his heavy load of sins on his back comes up to the foot of the Cross, and as in his mind he sees Christ dying there in his stead, the one who ‘His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree,’ his heavy burden of sins is unloosed from his back, and (as we read) tumbles down into a sepulchre, and is seen no more!”
I inquired, “And now, Mrs. —, can you tell how it was you were not saved sooner?”
“I could not give up the thought that I must have some inward feeling first, that a feeling of joy would come over me, and I have never had it yet.”
“But you felt glad when you saw that God had laid your sins on Christ?”
“Oh! yes, but it was more the feeling of relief. My sins had got to be such a terrible load on me, and oh, it was a relief when I knew they were gone! But it was all so different to what I expected.”
Yes, for she was not giving her “feelings” a thought, her mind was occupied with the words she had read— “The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” She saw that the “all” included her— that her iniquities, her sins, were laid on Him, and that therefore they were gone from her for ever.
Dear anxious soul, may you in like manner turn yourself to Christ. You will never regret it.
F. A.