Worth Repeating: Whosoever Will

That reminds me of the penitent down in Georgia at the altar. He was agonizing, praying. The preacher went up to him, trying to encourage him, and, “Well,” he said, “I am not one of the elect, I am one of the reprobates; I feel it all over “-and I dont reckon a poor soul ever did try to seek God that the devil didnt slip up with something of that sort-” You are one of the reprobates; God never died to save you”-and there he was in agony, and the preacher said to him:

“Well, my brother, listen to me a minute. Now,” said he, “if you could see your name, ‘James B. Green, written upon the Lambs book this minute, would you believe then Christ died for you and you were one of the elect?”

The poor fellow thought a moment and he said, “No, sir. There are other people in this world of my name.” (Laughter.)

“Well,” said the preacher, “if you could see it, ‘James B. Green, Sc riven County, Ga., would you believe it was you then?”

Well,” he says, “there may have been other people of ‘my name in this county before I was born. I dont know.”

“Well,” said he, “if you could see it, ‘James B. Green, Scriven County, Ga., and the year ‘1867, would you believe it was you?”

“Well,” he said, “it may be there is somebody in this county now of my name.”

“Well,” said he, “if you could see it, ‘James B. Green of Scriven County, and the Nineteenth District and the year ’67, would you believe it was you?”

“Well,” he says, “I could not know definitely.”

“Now,” said he, “my friend, God Almighty saw all that trouble and he just put it into one word and he said: ‘Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.”

And the poor fellow jumped up and clapped his hands and said, “Thank God! I know that means me.”

Samuel P. Jones, Whosoever Will May Come

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