“Did you ever hear,” I asked, “of Jesus refusing anybody that wanted kindness from Him? He wouldn’t always do exactly what they asked Him, because that would sometimes be of no use, and sometimes would even be wrong; but He never pushed them away from Him, never repulsed their approach to Him. For the sake of His disciples, He made the Syrophenician woman suffer a little while, but only to give her such praise afterwards and such a granting of her prayer as is just wonderful.”
She said nothing for a little while; then murmured,
“Shall I have to be ashamed to all eternity? I do not want not to be ashamed; but shall I never be able to be like other people—in heaven I mean?”
“If He is satisfied with you, you need not think anything more about yourself. If He lets you once kiss His feet, you won’t care to think about other people’s opinion of you even in heaven. But things will go very differently there from here. For everybody there will be more or less ashamed of himself, and will think worse of himself than he does of any one else. If trouble about your past life were to show itself on your face there, they would all run to comfort you, trying to make the best of it, and telling you that you must think about yourself as He thinks about you; for what He thinks is the rule, because it is the infallible right way. But perhaps rather, they would tell you to leave that to Him who has taken away our sins, and not trouble yourself any more about it. But to tell the truth, I don’t think such thoughts will come to you at all when once you have seen the face of Jesus Christ. You will be so filled with His glory and goodness and grace, that you will just live in Him and not in yourself at all.”
“Will He let us tell Him anything we please?”
“He lets you do that now: surely He will not be less our God, our friend there.”
“Oh, I don’t mind how soon He takes me now! Only there’s that poor child that I’ve behaved so badly to! I wish I could take him with me. I have no time to make it up to him here.”
“You must wait till he comes. He won’t think hardly of you. There’s no fear of that.”
“What will become of him, though? I can’t bear the idea of burdening my father with him.”
“Your father will be glad to have him, I know. He will feel it a privilege to do something for your sake. But the boy will do him good. If he does not want him, I will take him myself.”