"Do you mean to say then," she replied, with surprise, "that you have no sins?"
"Yes, I mean to say that my sins were atoned for, once for all, on the cross; and that, believing this, I have peace and remission of sins. My past sins are cast like a stone into the deep; and as to my daily sins of omission and commission, I do not take them to the cross like a Romanist, but to the throne of grace, where the risen and living Christ is now making intercession for me."
She was silent; and so was I, inwardly praying for her. Presently she looked up and said, "I do thank Him for dying for me. Is that what you want me to say?"
"Thanksgiving is an indication of living faith. How can I believe that
Jesus died for me, and not thank Him?"
"But I do thank Him, and it is very uncharitable of you to say, we do not thank Him; we all thank Him!"
She was gone again, and I wondered whether I should ever bring her back!
"You remind me," I said, "of three ladies of good position, whom I met last year. They all professed to thank God for Christ's death; but yet they had no peace, and were not satisfied. Seeing they were in real earnest, I proposed to go over the General Thanksgiving in the Prayer-book with them. They did so, and thanked God for creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life, but above all—then as I emphasized this 'above all,' they said, almost together, 'That is where we are wrong. We have not 'put the redeeming love of God as shown in Christ's death, above all.' These three ladies found peace and pardon that same evening."
"That has been my mistake too," said the lady, interrupting me. "I have never put Jesus above all; but I do desire to do so, and that with all my heart."
"Then do so," I said, "and thank Him for His love in dying in your stead, and shedding His blood to wash your sins away."
"He shall have all my heart!" she exclaimed.