August 1924
T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
485
which he never recovered. Right in the midst of his splen did career, he was taken away from the walks of men, and for more than four months lingered upon a bed of sickness before he was called into the other world. I was his Pas tor. I had many visits with him; and some of those visits deeply touched my heart. He was a lovable man, and he knew God: I am fully persuaded he was a redeemed soul. The seasons of spiritual fellowship which we enjoyed, to me were very beautiful, and in some ways very inspiring. But there was one day, near to the time when he was called home, in which he opened his heart to me. I saw before the conversation had gone very far that there was some thing upon his mind that he wanted so say. His wife had been in the room, as she often was during the visits; but he waited, I noticed, that morning until she had gone away about her household duties. With a woman’s intuition I think she sensed the fact that he had a secret he wanted to impart to me. After she had left the room, and with an expression on his face that to me was very touching, and with a wistfulness in his voice I shall never forget, he said: “ Pastor, I have something I want to say to you. I am just burdened about it.” And I said to him, “Well, my dear fellow, say it. You know I will hear you sympathetically whatever it is you have to say.” “Well,” he said, “ I know you will and that makes it all the harder to say.” He said, “DO you know that as I have been lying here upon this bed for these months it has come to me more and more that I have not carried my corner for Christ.” It was a very striking expression. It was the expression of a practical business man, and a public man. “Well,” I said, “just what do you mean by that? I do not know that I catch your meaning. You are a member of the church.” “ Yes,” he said, “ I am a member of the church.” “ You are the head of a family. You have these children, and your home is well ordered.” “ Yes,” he said, “ I know that is true.” And then that look of wistfulness came into his face as he said, “And yet, Pastor, I have realized in these days, as I have not realized before, that there has been a lack. I will have to repeat it: it has come to me that I have not carried my corner for Christ.” “W e ll/’ I said, “just tell me about it.” He said, “ It is this way: you know I have been in busi ness and in public life. In business and in all business relationships I did carry my corner fully, and I have no regret, and no ache in my conscience about it. In the development of our firm, if there came a time when it was necessary to put more money into the business, somehow I managed to furnish my share.. I never failed there. I gave myself to my business night and day when the occasion required it. In stressful times, we were there, on occasion, far after midnight— over the books, or planning a new campaign. I did my full share, and not one of my partners had any cause to complain. My conscience is clear.” “And,” he said, “ in public life I was loyal to my party and • my friends. In the political campaigns, I carried my cor ner faithfully, and, I am glad to think, with some measure of success. They never found me to fail. Whenever a bur den was put upon me, I tried to carry it as best I could, and my conscience is easy because I did my best, and served to the best of my ability when public honor and position were put upon me. Then I have done my best for this beautiful wife and these lovely children that God has given me. I have not stinted them. Perhaps I have been too prodigal, especially with the children. Everything they wanted, that I thought was at all reasonable, I have given them, and the home has been reasonably well ordered. I believe I have done my
best. I have made all the necessary sacrifices for my family and my home.” And then his face dropped, and his voice came back into that minor strain that I had noticed in the beginning. His chin trembled and tears came into the eyes of that strong man as he said, “ But, Pastor, I have not carried my, corner for Christ as I should have done. I am conscious of a sad neglect, yet I truly love my Master. He is my Saviour, and I know I owe all to Him. I gave my money; I was not stingy there; but, Pastor, I know now that I did not give myself as I should have done. I allowed these other tem poral interests to creep in and so monopolize my time, and my thought, and my strength, and my ambition, and my planning, and my purposing, that I excluded Christ. I have not borne the faithful witness to Him that I should have borne. Pastor, I am conscious here that I have not carried my corner for Christ, and I feel that I would give every thing if it had not been thus. I fear, Pastor, that I shall be ashamed when I meet Him face to face.” That confession touched my heart profoundly, but I had no word of comfort, as I had in the beginning. I tried to say what I could, for he was a sick man, but it was too late then for him to remedy the defect. His seat had been empty. He had been missed at the prayer-meetings. I had often regretted that his example had not been a little clearer and his testimony a little stronger. In the soul-winning campaigns he was always sympathetic. He would give money, as he had said. But he just touched the very heart of it when he said to me that in the giving of himself there had been a lack. The pathos of it is that he realized it when it was too late. He had not done his best for God. He had made the great mistake, as he put it, of not “ carry ing his corner for Christ.” His seat was empty. Dear friend, there is a lack that cannot be remedied when we fail Jesus. It is an eternal lack. It was too late then for that dear man, noble as he was, to go back into the past and undo it, and do what he should have been doing all along the journey. (To be continued) ALONE WITH GOD Alone with God! O, take the time I pray you. The day is long and crowded to the brim; Be still and wait— it may be but a moment—- But Christ is there when you’ve the time for Him. Alone with God! There’s so much strife and hurry, Nothing can wait; we all must clear the line To do the petty rounds of this world’s business; But He must wait until we have the time. Alone with God! Time will not always be yours, If you but knew tomorrow’s light would dim, Would you not see for you to live is Jesus, And count all lost but time you’ve spent with Him? Rencona, N. M. -^-Mrs. Frank McQuat TURN TO PAGES 504-505 AND BOOK into the happy faces of the hundreds of B. I. O..L. A. students. Ask yourself if it would please the Lord if you were better prepared for His service. Then Write us for full infor mation concerning our Day, Evening or Correspon dence Classes.
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