“Those Three Lost Years”

A brave soldier lay mortally wounded, knowing that very soon indeed he must die. Several years before he had given his soul into the Saviour’s keeping, and in the prospect of death he could confidently say, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him.” But why that sad expression on the manly, handsome face? It is no thought of his comfortless surroundings; it is no grief that his deathbed should be near the field of battle, far from all his loved ones, that so moves the Christian soldier. No, listen to his words to a comrade: “I die as a Christian, and I die contented; but oh! if I could but have died as a Christian worker!”
He was a Christian when he entered the army, and had always kept an unsullied reputation, but he had not “shown his colors,” and stood out boldly as a servant of Christ, and this was his bitter grief. He wished to see his family again, he said, but far, far more to recover lost opportunities, and be able to use his influence in the service of Christ. Again the dying man speaks: “I am peaceful in view of death,” he repeats, “but not joyful and glad. Those three lost years keep coming back upon me.” He tells those of his comrades whom he can see of his mistake, and how it grieves him, and begs his Saviour’s forgiveness for lost opportunities of service.
Then, after lying with closed eyes for a few minutes, he says to his companions, “Do you suppose we shall be able to forget anything in heaven? I would like to forget those three lost years.”
How true are Christ’s words, “The night cometh when no man can work.” Oh, let all of us who are God’s children lay these words to heart and pray that we may not have to mourn over our time on earth as lost time. Having first believed on Christ, it is our duty and privilege to confess Him before men.
“I dare not work my soul to save,
For that my Lord hath done;
But I would work like any slave
For love of God’s dear Son.”

Goodbye
Let Lance,-Sergt. H. H― speak the last word to you this month: ― “My comrades still come to me and ask for Testament cards so that they may send for Testaments. I should be greatly obliged to you if you would send me about two hundred cards. To be candid, I think the trench mortars put the fear of God into their hearts. It is my earnest prayer that that fear may stop there.”

The Diary of a Soul
By The Editor