The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1903, Page 3

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‘he lutheran Pioneer. 3

EE

Trust.

Though a cloud is laid over the future,
And a veil is before my eyes,

Though the coming day seem darkness
On which no sun shall arise,

I will trust all my ways to the Father
Who careth for me and mine.

I will pray, “O Lord, enfold them
With Thy tenderness divine;

Go with them, O my Father,
Wherever they may stray,

And bring their fect, I pray Thee,
Into the narrow way.”

And then I will trust in the promise
That is given to all who grieve,

“If ye ask in faith believing,

Ye surely shall receive.”’
Selected,
———_—- o<== > eo

“What is the Next Station?”

This was the question, writes a pastor, which
I asked of the station master, as I sat waiting
for the train. I had gone some miles into the
country to visit an aged lady who was very
sick and whose house was close by the railway
station; and, having finished my call, I was
sitting in the waiting room until the returning
train should arrive.

I found myself alone with the depot master
—an aged man with white hair and a face
which told of care and hard work.

‘““What is the next station?’ I inquired,
being unacquainted with the road.

“The next station is the last,’’ he answered.
“It is the end of the line. You passed a good
many stopping places coming out, sir; but
there is only one more as you go on.”

There was a pause for 2 moment in the con-
versation; then, evidently understanding my
errand, he asked:

‘‘Hlow is the old lady, sir?”
~ “She is fast nearing the last station,”’ I re-
plied. ‘‘She is very sick; and besides, she is
Seventy years old and has reached the end of
life as laid down in the Book; for you know
the Bible says that ‘the days of our years are
three-score years and ten’ —seventy years—
that is, seventy stations.”’

There was quite a pause in the conversation
again, during which the old man seemed to be
thinking. Then he said:

‘According to that, I suppose, I may be
pretty near the end of my route, since I am
just turning seventy. Well, I am not sorry.
I have worked hard, and have seen a good
deal of trouble, and I shall not feel badly to
get through.’’

“‘What is the next station?’ I asked ab-
Tuptly. ‘You say you are nearing the end of
your journey of life, and that you have passed
Seventy stations already. What is the next
Station ?’”

‘“Ah, nobody knows about that!’’ he an-
Swered. ‘‘We know about the past, but what
is going to be hereafter no one can tell. I only
hope that I shall be better off in the next world
than I have’been in this; but I cannot say cer-
tainly, for no one has ever come back from
that world to tell us anything about it.””

“Ah, but you are mistaken there!’’ I inter-
rupted. ‘‘There is One who has come back
and told us about the future life. Do you not
know that Jesus Christ rose again from the
dead, ‘and hath brought life and immortality
to light through the Gospel’ ?”’

“‘Who are you?’’ the old man asked ab-
ruptly. ‘‘I thought you were a doctor who
had come out to visit the old lady. I guess
I am mistaken, sir?”

“Yes,’’ I answered; ‘‘you are not quite cor-
rect. I am a minister of the Gospel, rather,
and my calling is very much like yours. I am
trying to help men on their journey through
life, to answer their questions about the route,
and especially to persuade them to believe on
the Son of God, that they may have eternal
life and land at last in glory.’’

‘‘Well, there may be a better world beyond
the grave, and there may not be. We don’t
know,’’ he continued.

‘Don’t know!’’ I said, pressing the point
with all earnestness on his heart. ‘We do
know. How could I preach the Gospel and
urge men to seek for glory and immortality,
unless I knew certainly that there is a world
of life and blessedness hereafter? Why, sir,
what will people think of you if, in reply to
their question, ‘What is the next station?’ you
should say, ‘I don’t know. Nobody knows’?
And so I could not preach the Gospel and urge
men to seek for heaven and eternal blessed-
ness, unless I was perfectly sure of this reality.
Paul, the great preacher of the Gospel, knew
what the next station was: ‘We know that if
our earthly house of this tabernacle were dis-
solved, we have a building of God, a house
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’
This is his answer to the great question, ‘What
shall be hereafter?’ And if you will believe
in Jesus Christ, and take His Gospel as your
guide book, you can know just as well as Paul
what the next station beyond the tomb shall
be for you.”’

Just then the whistle of the approaching
train sounded, and the old man hastened about
his work. As I stepped upon the platform of
the car, he stood at the crossing waving his
signal flag, his white hair floating in the wind,
and I said, as the train moved out, ‘‘Be sure
you find out what the next station is before
you reach the end.”” And I heard the reply
falling rather hesitatingly on my ear, ‘I will
try, sir.”’

Reader, what answer have you to make to
this question? In the hurrying train of life
you are moving swiftly on. Ever and anon
there is a pause, and some passenger steps off
and disappears. The next stopping place may
be yours; where will it land you?

“To depart and be with Christ,” is one an-
swer to the question—with the Lord in Para-
dise. There are multitudes who are just as
certain of that destination, when their time
comes, a8 they are of the truth of God’s Word.
And they are ready’at any moment for the
change. '

There are others to whom death is only a
step in the dark. Young man, to whom the
Summons may come very suddenly and un-
expectedly to disembark, are you sure where
you will be when life is ended? Old man, to
whom the end must certainly be very near,
are you certain what shall be your destiny
beyond the grave? Put to yourselves these
serious questions and let conscience answer,
if you are without God and without hope in
the world. If you have true faith in Jesus
Christ, then let Scripture answer, with a hope
sure and steadfast. Be careful that you know
what the next station is!

—_—— +P oe

Seeing the Bright Side.

An old colored woman once said to a North-
ern man, who was very ill with fever in Vicks-
burg, and who was very sad-hearted, ‘‘Massa,
does yo’ see de bright side dis mornin’ ?”
“No, Nanny,’’ said he, ‘‘it isn’t so bright as
I wish it.” ‘Well, massa, I allus see de
bright side.’’ ‘Maybe you haven’t had much
trouble,’”’ was the reply. ‘‘Mebbe not,” she
said; and then she went on to tell him, in her
simple, broken way, of her life in Virginia,
of the selling of her children one by one, of
the auction sale of her husband, and then of
herself. She was then alone in camp, with-
out having heard from one of her kindred
for years. ‘‘Mebbe I ain’t seen no trouble,
massa.’’ ‘But, Nanny,’’ said he, ‘have you
seen the bright side all the time?’ ‘*‘Allus,
massa, allus.’’ ‘‘Well, how did you do it?”
“Dis isde way, massa. When I see the brack
cloud comin’ over, an’ ’pears like it’s comin’
crushin’ down on me, den I jist whips aroun’
on de oder side, an’ I find de Lord Jesus dar,
an’ den it’s all bright and clar. De bright
side’s allus where Jesus is.’’

——s-+o-4P or oo

A Debt of Honor.

Booker T. Washington in his book, ‘‘Up
from Slavery,’’ tells this story of a negro
slaye’s honor:

An ex-slave from Virginia had contracted
with his master, two or three years previous
to the Emancipation Proclamation, to buy
himself by paying so much per year, and
meanwhile he was permitted to labor where
and for whom he pleased. Finding that he
could secure better wages in Ohio, he went
there. When freedom came he was still in
debt to his master some three hundred dol-
lars. Notwithstanding that the Emancipation
Proclamation freed him from any obligation to
his master, this black man walked the greater
portion of the distance back to where his old
master lived in Virginia, and placed the last
dollar, with interest, in his hands. This man
told me that he knew he did not have to pay
the debt, but that he had given his word to
his master, and he felt that he could not
enjoy his freedom until he had fulfilled his
promise.