The speaker paused for breath, for his energetic outburst had so carried him away that he was like a man who had been running a race, and as he did so Jemmy said shyly, and in a low voice: “How did you know that I was wishing with all my heart that in some way, somehow, I might get my soul put right, that I was longin’ for a message from God, without any idea how it was to come?”
There was a happy ring in the Christian’s voice as he answered: “Me know? I don’t know anything, except that God the Father is my Father, that God the Son is my Saviour, who died that I might live, and that God the Holy Ghost, whose work it is to impress these wonderful matters on men’s hearts, is always at hand arranging the time, the messenger, and the message. He found me as He finds you—hopeless, heart-sick, hungry for peace and love; and as soon as He made me feel my need of Him He had some one there to tell me the glad story.”
Then and there Jemmy slid down to his knees, and lifting his streaming face to heaven he murmured, “O God my Father, forgive me my sins, and make me what I ought to be. Dear Jesus, put your own precious life into me and drive the unclean life out. I do believe in you, my Saviour, because you compel me to by your love. Teach me your way—I’ll make it mine. Bless my poor father and mother at home, and let me get back and comfort them; and bless this dear brother here who you’ve made use of to tell me, for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
Deep and solemn was the response from his new-found friend kneeling beside him. As they rose from their knees Jemmy reached for his hand, and clasping it in both of his own, said brokenly, “How real and true all comes back to me now, what I heard when I was a little chap at home and at Sunday-school! How can I ever thank God enough for sending you to me? But how silly I must have been not to see it before! Oh, thank God, thank God I see it now! God my Father waiting for me, Christ my Saviour knocking at my heart, and the Comforter sending you into this place, on to this fo’c’s’le-head at the right minute to give me the right word.”
“Eight bells” rang out clearly from the tiny bell aft, and as Jemmy hastened to strike the big bell responsively he murmured: “Thank God my night watch is over—the morning has come.”
Thenceforward he and his brother in the Lord were inseparable, whenever it was possible for them to enjoy the communion they both needed. Their heavy tasks on board remained really the same, but they did not feel them. They worked cheerfully as unto God, upheld by His wonderful sustaining power, and everything around and about them seemed changed for the better.
So it is when, after long buffeting the gale that is blowing fair for home, because the captain is uncertain of his position and dares not run before it, the pilot comes on board, orders the helm to be put up, and the good ship fleeing homeward with a fair wind seems to have suddenly sprung into fine weather. Jesus, the Heavenly Pilot, comes on board of a man and takes charge, bringing light for darkness, joy for misery, and, embracing all these, the peace of God which passeth all understanding.
Night after night found Jemmy as we found him at the beginning of this story, day after day saw him sturdily and more deeply digging into the treasure of the Word, until that blessed day when with his beloved chum at his side he burst into the old home, to receive that welcome that only a loving mother and father can give to a son restored to them by God’s mercy in answer to many prayers.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.