03. "IS THERE NOTHING TO DO BUT BELIEVE?"
"IS THERE NOTHING TO DO BUT BELIEVE?" For many days dear Johnny’s life hung in the balance as the fever ran its painful and wearisome course; at length the corner seemed to have turned, and those who were in constant attendance on him looked confidently for ultimate recovery.
During the space of a month from the first night I saw him in his sickness, I visited him constantly, to speak of Jesus, and press on him the urgent necessity of at once receiving Christ. Other servants of Christ also had access to him, and I doubt not were used of God in deepening the convictions, which it was evident to any soul-winner, he was passing through. A favourite nurse who had charge of the wards under his care, by his own request, late in his illness, was deputed to attend him.
Soon after this, noticing that he was reading a collection of Gospel narratives and papers entitled, "Crumbs for the Hungry," she said to him, "Do you know, Doctor, that it has been reported all through the house that you are converted?"
"Yes," he replied, "I wish it were true; I wish I were converted." That wish was soon to be gratified, to his joy and ours. By the mail of 2nd March, he had sufficiently rallied to be able to pen a few lines to his mother, telling her of his hope of full and rapid recovery. Perhaps the exertion of this may have been too much for his exhausted frame; but, be it as it may, within a few days bad symptoms again set in, and hopes gave place to the gravest apprehension on the part of those who watched him, when, on Friday, the 13th, vomiting of the most intractable character set in, and lasted persistently day and night till the end. This day I saw him, still unsaved; but his physical condition was such that I could say but a few words, pointing him again to the Lord Jesus as the friend of sinners. Pressure of work quite prevented an intended visit on the Saturday; but on Lord’s day afternoon an uncontrollable impulse led me, spite of much hindrance, to his bedside. A glance told me that Death had marked him as an early victim. To me it seemed now, or never. By his request we were left alone.
Daylight was fading, but just enough remained to permit me to read from my little pocket Testament the lovely tale of the return of the wanderer, and the welcome he received (Luke 15:11-32.) Dear J- listened as he had never done before; he owned his sin, his misspent life, his often stifled convictions when in health, his ill-treatment of Christ, and of the grace of God. He had "come to himself," on the verge of the grave. "Repentance toward God," was manifest in the way he judged himself, and the whole, past in view of God and Eternity. "Faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ" was as yet, however, wanting.
Turning to Paul’s 1st Epistle to Timothy, I read once and again to him that blessed 15th verse — resting place of countless weary self-judged hearts and empty sinners;
"THIS IS A FAITHFUL SAYING, AND WORTHY OF ALL ACCEPTATION, THAT CHRIST JESUS CAME INTO THE WORLD TO SAVE SINNERS, OF WHOM I AM CHIEF." Its sweetness and fulness the Holy Ghost applied in power to his soul, and he saw that Christ had come for such as he — sinners. One difficulty remained: he had done nothing good in God’s sight-plenty of that which he now, and truly, judged bad. Satan, fearful to lose a victim, suggested the necessity of his doing something. To this I cited the case of the dying thief, saved in the very jaws of death, unable to do ought but fear God, judge himself, confess Christ, and cast himself unreservedly on Him (Luke 23:39-43), and reminded him of the dying words of the blessed Lord, "It is finished."
There was a moment’s pause, and then the final query fell from his lips, "But, Doctor, is there nothing to do but believe?"
"BELIEVE ON THE LORD JESUS CHRIST, AND THOU SHALT BE SAVED," was my only reply. The setting sun gave me just light enough to see that with clasped hands, and eyes closed to all earthly scenes, his lips were moving in prayer. "Behold, he prayeth," is a great word for God to say of a sinner on earth (Acts 9:11). It is the moment of deliverance. A minute or two after he turned his head to me, as tears filled his eyes, and softly said, — "I believe Him now. I can trust Him now. I see it all."
Peace filled his heart, and praise filled mine, while deeper and fuller than either was the joy in heaven over this younger son, about whom the Father could say, "This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found." (Luke 15:24.)
He begged me to kneel and thank God for His abundant mercy to him in thus saving him. This done, I left him, with a restful look on his wasted, yet still handsome countenance, that had never been seen there before.