He noticed that she was unusually thoughtful and attentive during the short service this evening, and as she lingered a little behind the others, as was her wont, he drew her to him and holding her in a close, loving embrace, asked tenderly:
“My darling, when are you going to leave the service of sin and Satan for that of the dear Saviour?”
“Papa,” she said, hiding her face on his shoulder, “I—I can’t bear to think of being Satan’s servant, and—and I do mean to be a Christian some time. I—I’m not good enough yet; I’ve got such a bad temper, you know; and I like my own way so well that—that it does seem as if I can’t keep from disobeying you once in a while.
“So I couldn’t be a good kind of a Christian, and—and that’s the only kind I’d want to be.”
He sighed deeply. “My child,” he said, “what is all that you have been saying, but an acknowledgment that you still love and choose the service of sin?”
“I was just telling you the truth about how I feel, papa, and how can I help it, if I’m made so?”
“By coming to Jesus, who saves his people from their sins. He is able to save to the uttermost; to save all from sin who will come to him; he never saves any in their sins; and he is the only Saviour; the only one who can deliver you from bondage to sin and Satan; can take away the evil of your nature and implant the love of holiness.
“You can never conquer your love of sin without his help; you will never grow really better while you stay away from him.”
“But I’m only a little girl, papa; I think I could do it better when I’m older.”
“No, it is Satan tells you that; he knows that the longer you delay, the harder your heart will grow, and the more difficult it will be to bring it to Jesus.