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TH E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
God Saved the Brewer’s Boy
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Jesus! I Am Resting, Resting*
"Jesus! I om resting, resting In the joy of what Thou art; I am finding out the greatness .Of Thy loving heart. Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee, And Thy beauty fills my soul. For, by Thy transforming power. Thou hast made me whole. Oh, how great Thy loving kindness. Vaster, broader than the sea! ■ Oh, how marvelous Thy goodness. Lavished all on me! Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloyed, way from Australia, a few years earli er, just that I might be near him. I think he realized, too, that I would ~ gladly have exchanged places with him now, and given him my strength and youth, if it eould have meant his continuance in the ministry in which God had so richly blessed him. What he did not know was that his slow, sketchy sentences, spoken in weakness, were revealing his inner most heart; and that they were show ing him as a spiritual gianf and me as a pitiable dwarf. , For example, when he .recalled the Ferguson tent meetings, he had no words for the great numbers who had attended, or for the generally conced ed success of the campaign. He never referred to the fact that it was this effort that had overtaxed his strength and brought on his present suffering. All he could talk of was his heart break over the souls who had not come and had not accepted, Christ. “O ,God,” I would pray as I left his room, “what «would I not giv^ for a love for souls like that!” His concern for Father was even more poignant. Never a day passed that he did not speak of him, or ask that we pray together for his salva tion. Jim begged the physician to do all he could to make him well, adding quiekly, "I’ve got to get to Australia, you know. My Father is not saved.” For a time, his physical condition seemed to improve. My church in Tex as kindly extended the" period of my absence, and I planned to go with Jim to Australia as soon as he was able to travel. Tickets were purchased, and the thought of the trip buoyed him up. But gradually weakness overtook hirh,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine/ Know Thy certainty of promise. And have made 'it mine. Ever lift Thy face upon me. As I work and wait for Thee; Resting 'neath Thy smile. Lord Jesus, Earth's dark shadows flee. Brightness of my Father's glory. Sunshine of my Father's face. Keep me ever trusting, resting. Fill me with Thy grace." and he knew, himself, that the Lord was going to take him Home. That last night of Jim’s life he rest ed his head in my arms--/! a young fellow of twenty-three and he four years older. Even in his weakness, he sang, and the hymn which he chose was a brave declaration of his faith: ~ “Jesus, I am resting, resting In the joy of what Thou art; I am finding out the greatness Of Thy loving heart.” All night long he was in prayer, and ? his Words are burned upon my heart. “Lord,” he began, “we have trusted Thee. .. we do trust Thee, and we evbr shall trust Thee f o r . .. everything. . . in life . . . in death. . . and forever.” I thought: Can I actually add "amen” to that? There was a long pause. Jim said something about our thoughts not be ing God’s thoughts, and then he added: “We supposed our plan would . . . bring Father. .. to Thee. But if this is not Thy way . . . then work as Thou seest best—just so Father is saved.” • I knew what it cost him to pray like that: I knew it cost even more for him to Say: “Lord,.! will lay down my min istry and go -Home—gladly—if that will show Father his need of the Saviour.” In his prayer, he asked the Lord to sustain the family, and especially Mother. He exhorted me earnestly to preach the Word and to be instant in season and out of season. And then, slowly, he ceased speak ing, and God took him. v A wave of despair broke over me. For five anguished hours I wept as I
With almost his last breath, Jim sang.
soul. Oh, Louis—” and his voice trailed off, “pray for Dad!” That was Jim: always putting oth ers’ needs before his own. He had known his physical strength was lim ited, for in early young manhood he had suffered an attack of rheumatic fever which had affected hij heart. During the few years that followed his graduation ffom the Moody Bible In stitute and attendance ,at Xenia The6- logical Seminary, he had been warned repeatedly by physicians that he must limit his preaching to two messages a week. But his soul was aflame- with love for the lost, and he could not be deterred. It had been his plan to resign his pastorate at Ferguson-, and to conclude his ministry there with a tent cam paign designed to reach the whole town with the gospel; and then, in the fall, to sail for Australia with one major purpose in view—to witness to Father personally of his need of the Saviour. There had been, of course, the faithful testimony and appeal that letters made possible, but these had not been enough. Jim wanted also to see Mother again—the .one who had prayed him through, into the ministry. I found myself saying: “It’s a per-, feet plan. If anybody can lead Dad to Christ, Jim is the person to do it.'” In fact, it never entered my mind that, ;n the providence of God, there could De any other way. Jim seemed to rest in the facf .of my presence with him. He knew that my love, for him was such a deep abiding force that it had drawn me all the * From ltnmunuel Hymnal, published by Mac millan Go., Ï929 . Used by permission •
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