It is a solemn “moment in life” when the glad tidings of the love of God in Christ Jesus are heard and understood.  Remember that we are saved by “the truth;” born again “of the Word;” sanctified “by the truth.”  To receive the truth of God, then, as a living power into the mind and conscience, is of infinite importance to us.  Now, while God’s truth comes to us “at various times and in diverse manners,” there are moments in life when we cannot choose but feel as if it was addressing our inner spirit as it never did before, and earnestly knocking for admission.  The circumstances in which this appeal is made may be what are called commonplace; such as when hearing a sermon preached from the pulpit, when reading a book by the fireside, or when conversing for a few minutes with an acquaintance; yet at such times truth expressed in a single sentence, or in a few words, may search our spirits, and gaze on us with a solemn look, saying, “Thou art the man I am in search of!” But, as it sometimes happens, the circumstances in which we are thus arrested by the truth, and are compelled to listen to it for weal or woe, may be peculiarly impressive; as when we are ourselves in sickness or danger, or when addressed by a parent or dear friend on their dying bed, or when in deep family distress, or when standing beside the grave that conceals our best earthly treasure from our sight.  At such moments the voice of God’s Spirit is awfully solemn as He cries, “Now is the day of salvation;” “To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts;” “Believe and live.”

These moments may be very brief.  The crisis of the battle between God and self, right and wrong, truth and falsehood, may be concentrated into a few minutes.  But time sufficient is, nevertheless, given wherein to test our truthfulness, the soil in which truth grows, the mirror that reflects its beams; time sufficient is given to say Yes or No to that God who claims our faith and love.  Truth comes with authority and majesty as an ambassador from the living God, and with clear voice, pure eye, and an arm omnipotent to save, offers to give light, life, and liberty to the captive spirit.  But we may evade his bright glance, and close our ears to his voice, and refuse to consider his claims, and deal falsely with his arguments; we may reject his offers, and, shrinking back from his touch and his helping hand, retire into the gloom of self-satisfied pride, preferring the darkness to the light; or we may make merry with Heaven’s ambassador, and mock him as they did the prophet of old; or cry out, “Away with him!” as the world cried to the Lord of light and life.  And what if the second ambassador never comes again with such pressing earnestness, but passes by the door once so rudely closed against him, and will knock no more?  Or, though he may in mercy return again and again, what if the eye gets blinded by the very light which it rejects? and the ear becomes so familiar with the voice, that it attracts