02. A FOOTBALL MATCH AND ITS FRUIT.
A FOOTBALL MATCH AND ITS FRUIT. The parting wish of my friend did not escape my memory, and I was pleased, soon after his mother left, to see the young Doctor appear at the Gospel meeting on the Lord’s day evening; but plenty of work filled up his time within the hospital, and mine without, so we rarely met, till the month of February, 1874, when an accident which befell him drew us together.
Johnny was a great athlete. It mattered not what line he went in for, he was sure to be head and chief. One of the best all-round cricketers in Scotland, scarcely finding an equal in flat racing, and long and high jumping, his favourite game was football, at which he was such an adept, that a team was counted almost sure of a victory that had him in its ranks; proof of all which stood, on every hand, in his rooms, in the shape of numerous prizes of every description. His fearless play cost him dear. During the progress of a football match, late in January, he came into collision with an opponent, and was flung violently to the ground, receiving a severe and painful injury to one of his knee-joints. Undaunted by the sickening pain he rose, and endeavoured to continue play, an attempt which was followed by a dead faint, in which he was carried off the field, and thence conveyed to his rooms in the Infirmary. Of this circumstance I did not hear till the middle of February, when, one Saturday evening, a note, pencilled by a strange hand, at his request, summoned me to his bedside. Hastening to the Infirmary, I found the once stalwart man more helpless than an infant. The injury to the knee-joint, though at first seeming of but trivial importance, had paved the way for one of the most acute attacks of rheumatic fever I ever witnessed. The injured limb was cradled in a Salter’s swing; every other joint was pained and powerless, the only motion possible being that of rolling the head from side to side. Severe pain at the heart told the tale of mischief working in and round that often-before overstrained organ, while the acid moisture that literally gushed from every pore of the skin, kept one nurse constantly employed in vain endeavours to dry the face and brow.
He thanked me for coming, and after getting the details I have just given, and expressing my sorrow at finding him in such a case, I enquired if in any way I could serve him, and why he had sent for me.
"Monday, the 16th, will be the mail day, and I want you to write to my mother," was his reply. To this I most gladly assented, noted what he wished said, and then added, — "And may I tell her that you have found the Lord? She will be sure to want to know that."
He quickly turned his face to the wall, while involuntary tears rolled down his cheeks as he answered, "I wish I could say that; I would give all the world, if I had it, to find Him: but I fear its too late now."
"Not at all," I replied, "it is never too late while you are in life. He is willing to have and to save you, and His word says, ’Now is the accepted time; behold, Now is the day of salvation.’ Do you, my dear Johnny, really want to have Christ? This is the only open question.’ His answer was very like himself. "I have been praying to God all day. I am now anxious to find Christ, and to be saved, but I fear it’s no use. Besides, it’s a cowardly thing to turn now. I know it’s only the fear of death that makes me turn."
Much more conversation ensued, during which he opened his mind fully to me, and I sought to open to him, as simply as I could, God’s way of salvation, viz. the atoning work and blood-shedding of the Lord Jesus on the one hand, and the sinner’s simple acceptance by faith of God’s offered mercy-apart from all his own works or feelings — on the other.
Having read the Word, and prayed with him, I then left, with instructions to say to his mother that now at length he was "really anxious to be saved."
Dear reader, I wonder whether these last five words express your state. If so, read on.