Untitled article by Henry F. Phelps

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, February 18, 1868

FromReview and Herald, Vol. XXXI, No. 10

JESUS KNOCKS.

By Henry F. Phelps

Yes, O my soul, a friend stands at thy door knocking for admittance. Yea, a friend, and more than a friend. He is one that will be more to thee than a brother, or sister. Yes, and more than all the world besides. The Lord of glory knocks. Just now he knocks. He has knocked before. He has long been knocking. He has knocked at the door of thy heart, many and many a time. He begs for admittance. In those many mercies he has been calling thee. Those long years of abundance, prosperity, and health, have been so many calls for admittance.

And then again those adversities were but divine calls. That angry dispensation of Providence, which took from thy bosom that loved one, that kind parent, that beloved brother or sister, that dear companion, or that darling, prattling little one, who had just learned to lisp thy name, and laid them in the cold, cold ground, were but so many repeated knocks of this Friend of friends, for admittance, as a welcome guest. Then open thy door. Just now he knocks again. Louder and louder still, he knocks. He stands as a sentinel outside. He sees trouble coming. He has seen lions in the way. He has a message for thee. He fain would commune with thee of thy safety. Your country is infested with an enemy. You must arise and flee or be taken in ruin. He would save thee; would spread thy table with the choicest dainties from another clime, would provide food for thy journey, and such food too, as, if thou shouldst eat, thou wouldst never hunger nor thirst any more. Oh! then, open to such a guest, yea, open the door of thy heart. Too long thou hast refused. He may knock but once more. Too long he has waited without. His locks are wet with the dews of night. He grieves at thy neglect. He patiently waits. Soon he will cease praying for admittance. See, he is just about to go away. He cannot always linger. Others may admit him. Others will admit him, if you will not. See, oh! see, he turns away. My Spirit shall not always strive. But he lingers yet a moment. It may be the last time, Oh! haste thee, open, open; bid him welcome. Bid adieu to the pleasures of this world, cut loose from the allurements of Satan. Turn your back upon the fleeting scenes of earth. Buy what he offers to sell, take it, it is thine. Be wise, now. Now is the time. Secure that eternal inheritance now while you can.

Reader these words are to you, as well as me.

HENRY F. PHELPS.

Pine Island, Minn.