How often have we observed the half-hearted seeker make his indifferent prayer and wait awhile and go away without the blessing sought, when at a later time, when intensity took the place of listlessness, and hunger pressed the soul, the agonizing heart pressed through spiritual chloroform, broke loose the padlock from the lips, and soon was rejoicing in the freedom of full salvation! One time the writer was conducting a meeting in Knoxville, Tenn., and a sister came to the altar a number of times. She wanted the blessing, but did not seem to be enough in earnest, although she prayed aloud each time she came. Finally, we said to the sister, "If you will do what I ask you to do, you will get through in five minutes." Of course she wanted to know what that was and she certainly would like to get through. We told her to pray like a house afire. Immediately, she took us at our word and started in according to our suggestion. It occurred so suddenly that we wondered if we had not made a mistake and had a fear that it would not be as predicted. To make sure, and unbeknown to the sister, we took out our watch, and timed the prayer. In just three and a half minutes the fire fell and our seeker obtained her heart's desire. While pastor in the city of Los Angeles we had a member who was seeking the blessing of holiness periodically. She would come to the altar and weep and make a nice little prayer, but failed to reach the line of intensity adequate for the blessing. Obtaining nothing she would depart and not be at the altar again for perhaps a couple of months. When a service would reach a specially high tide of power and victory this lady would be down with others seeking holiness. Revival meetings were in progress and she was at the altar one evening, and, as usual, was not receiving. We tried to show her that she should constantly seek till she found; that she should come to the altar every time she had an opportunity till she got through. Finally, we asked her if she would promise to come to the altar one hundred times in succession without a letup, if she did not get the blessing before the hundred times were expired. After awhile she promised thus to do. Immediately we took out our pencil and right under her face we wrote the number 100 on the altar rail, and pointing to it, said, "You have now promised to come to this altar one hundred times in succession providing you do not get through before." She assented. The following night she was faithful to her promise and got through that night. Intensity, desire, appreciation and determination are all factors in real seeking. Why do so many fail? There is a reason. Here is a soul that seeks one, two, three, or more nights and then ceases. On being asked why the seeking ceased the answer is, "Well, I tried and I did not get anything, and what is the use of trying further?" Now, the Lord took that all in at the start. He knew that the seeking was going to let up, and of course could not consistently bestow the gift under such conditions. If the Lord can look down the road and see that the seeker is going to give up at the end of a week or a month, He certainly has not the gift for one who does not value it more than that. But if He can look down the road and see a pile of bleached bones, or in other words, one who will die in the attempt before he will give up, He sees a heart that is about prepared to receive it now.
We once heard the story of a man who was real hungry for holiness. He was in attendance at some spiritual gathering where a number of people were professing the experience. He cast about in his mind to find some holy man whom he might get to pray with him. After selecting his man, he asked him if he would go into the woods and pray with him that he might obtain the experience of sanctification. The brother was only too glad to go and was ready for the trip at once. The anxious seeker said, "I have made up my mind that if I do not obtain the blessing at once I am going to remain all night in prayer. Will you stay with me?" The brother responded in the affirmative. "But wait," said the seeker. "If I do not obtain the first night I am going to remain the second night. Will you remain with me?" After a little thought he again answered in the affirmative. He was ready to start, when the seeker declared he was going to remain the third night, then the fourth, until it amounted to a whole week. When he obtained the promise of his friend to stay by him, they started for the woods. After looking about for a good, grassy spot, and one that was nicely sheltered from the dew of the night he said, "This is a good place; let us pray." His knees scarcely touched the grass when he shouted, "Glory to God, I've got it!" Certainly! A good week of solid prayer ought to clear the way for anybody to enter in, and that honest, determined soul had virtually done that thing by faith, and God saw that he was bound to pray through, and so He cut the work short in righteousness and bestowed it upon him on the spot.
There is something about an intensified determination that God honors. The fact is, that He honors faith, and when the seeking soul gets into the state of mind where he feels that he wants the grace more than life, and is determined to have it at any cost, it invariably opens up the way of faith, and the victory at once is his. We once heard of a young man at a campmeeting who was seeking the Lord. When he came to the altar he curled up with his head in his arms and was perfectly mute. He would neither pray nor answer a question. While others were saved around him, he remained silent, and would leave without any help. This was repeated time and again. He always curled up the same way, and would never say a word to God or man. Finally, the workers, seeing they could not get anything out of him nor help him in any way, agreed among themselves to let him entirely alone. After this he came as usual to the altar, took his usual position, and while others around were praying through, he obtained nothing and went away. After a while it seemed to dawn upon his benighted mind that everybody had forsaken him, and that he had better pray for himself. Accordingly, he threw up his hands and screamed for help at the top of his voice. The merciful Christ, who said, "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out," was right present to take him in. In an instant he had the victory and leaped to his feet and shouted, "Glory to God! If it had not been for Jesus Christ, I never would have been saved." Certainly not.
When all earthly hopes are gone, and one is thrown out alone on the merits of Jesus Christ, it is then that faith takes hold and the victory comes. It is certainly a sad sight at the altar when some daughter is crying her way to God in a penitential grief, to have her foolish mother kneel down beside her and begin to stroke her and say, "My dear child, you have always been a good girl." Immediately note how the girl drops the Lord and goes to leaning on her mother. The repentance stops at once, self-pity takes its place, a soul is arrested in getting saved and may possibly be lost forever. And yet this is being done continually.
Mr. Charles G. Finney tells of a woman in one of his meetings who was much burdened on account of her sins. Mr. Finney was stopping at her house and daily he was called upon to come and pray for the woman. He responded from time to time and prayed for her the best he knew how, but found out that it was doing no good. Finally, the Lord showed him that the woman was depending upon his prayers instead of the Lord. The next time she asked him to come and pray for her, he said, "I will pray for you no more." Heartbroken and alarmed she threw herself on the mercy of the Lord and was saved at once. Christ must be depended upon alone. Other props must go. He needs no earthly help to save a sinner or sanctify a believer.
And when the struggle is over and the pearl of full salvation is found, it will be observed that the harder the struggle and the more it cost, the more will it be appreciated. It is quite apparent that the cause of the fearful decadence of religion on every hand is the failure of obtaining the real thing on the one hand, and the failure to appreciate on the other. How some can claim Christ today and sell Him out tomorrow, is a marvel. The way to appreciate anything is to note what one will be with it, and what he will be without it. What is one with this great pearl in his possession? He is safe for both worlds. He is saved from inward and outward sin. He has "joy unspeakable and full of glory." He has a life of usefulness ahead and a certainty of everlasting bliss in glory, where he will bear the palm of victory, wear the crown of glory, walk the gold-paved streets of the New Jerusalem, enjoy the presence of Christ and the angels and redeemed loved ones, and sing and shout and shine and serve forevermore. This surely will pay. On the other hand, to fail, means a life of sin and sorrow and suffering here, a loss of souls which one might win to Christ, an awful death bed, a frightful judgment day, and an eternity of remorse and horror and darkness and death and damnation.
Reader, how much is Christ worth? How much do you appreciate His gift? Let us ask some who let it slip. Judas, what is it worth? What is Christ worth to you? The answer is, "Sixteen dollars and ninety-six cents." That was his price for the Savior; the price of a slave in the olden times if he were killed by a beast; the lowest price placed upon a human being. Demas, how much is it worth? The answer is, "The love of this present world," for that is what he obtained. Saul, what is your salvation worth? "The gratifying of a jealous disposition," for he sold out on that line, till it turned to anger, then hatred and then murder, till finally he was utterly forsaken by God, and he turned into a spiritualist, consulted the witch of Endor, went into battle, committed suicide and passed off from the stage of action here. Solomon, what was yours worth? "Outlandish women," is the answer, not from Solomon's lips, but from the inspired pen of Nehemiah. "Nevertheless even him did outlandish women cause to sin." Young lady, what was the price of your soul? "Mother, hang my fine dresses upon the wall and let me see them. There, mother, is the price of my soul," and she passed out into the darkness of the outer world. Again, young lady, what is the price of your soul? "That young man. I gave up Christ for him. I had to decide between the two, and I took him. Christ has been a stranger to me ever since." Shall we sell out Christ for pleasure, or people, or pursuits, or popularity? God forbid. Let us raise the price of our soul and appreciate the gift of God and let nothing come between.