What Love Can Do

(What Love Can Do is a chapter taken from The True Meaning of Life.

A minor amount of editing was done so that it would become an exhortation to all of God's children. NJM)

It must be about twenty‑five years since H. came into the Deaconess‑hospital of "Sarepta" in Westphalia., The Sister‑in‑charge informed me that he had arrived, and I went immediately to welcome the new‑comer. But oh, what a sight! I had seen much misery, many a pathetic, crippled form, but this was heart­breaking. I had to pull myself together lest I should show how deeply I was moved, and not be able to give the poor man a friendly welcome to his new home. He had come to stay, and the unfortunate man resigned himself to his fate with a bitter hopeless grief. He was a cripple such as I have never seen another. He could neither sit nor stand nor walk, and hardly lie. He was strapped to a sort o£ leather frame which supported and stretched his disjointed, deformed limbs, so that he hung rather than sat. His disproportionately long neck was bent backwards and his head hung down. He had great anxious eyes and twisted features. His hands were clasped convulsively together, and if he had not had a glass marble in the palm of each hand, his nails would have bored through them. A faithful brother looked after him very efficiently, and Sister Riekchen of the men's department did her utmost to make life pleasant for her new patient. I visited him almost every day, and after a time I rejoiced to see that a smile would light up his features. Pastor Rahn, who faithfully fulfilled a spiritual ministry amongst the men, gave much time to visiting this patient who was a sufferer both in body and soul, and he was a great help to him.

Gradually the bitterness disappeared, a new light came over his face, and day after day we saw him poring over his large Bible, which was fixed to a sort of stand in front of his leather frame. In one of his crippled hands he held a long stick with which he cleverly turned the pages. He read and read in that big, old Book, which had already brought light and comfort to very many other souls in their suffering and need, and while he read, seeking, meditating, praying, light dawned slowly for him too. We could see the change in him clearly, he became grateful and contented. He ex­pressed himself with great difficulty, for he could only make guttural sounds that were scarcely intelligible, but the transformed expression in his face spoke for him. Those who were with him most, gradually began to understand what he said, and he would tell them how his life was filled with new meaning, and his heart had found rest in the love of God revealed in Christ.

One day, while Pastor Rahn was visiting him, he told him that he had one great desire in his heart. The Pastor was curious to know what it could be, and enquired. Then, with great labour and a deep, glad seriousness and resolution he said: "Pastor, the Saviour has done so much for me, and I would like to do something for Him out of thankful­ness and love. I have nothing to give Him, I cannot work for Him, nor can I speak of Him since none could under­stand me. I have kept wondering whether I could not do anything for Him, and now I know what I can do. You know, Pastor, that I have a very good brother who looks after me faithfully and does everything for me. Now I have thought how you have so many patients who have no one to nurse them. Take my brother and send him to some other poor helpless sick man, and give me one of the drunkards from Wilhelmsdorf. (a home for drunkards). Perhaps when he sees my miserable plight he will let himself be saved." Then he was silent and waited his answer with intense eagerness. The Pastor was deeply moved. None but those who knew the absolute helplessness of the man can understand what a sacrifice it meant. It seemed simply impossible, and the Pastor finally protested: "Think how dependent you are, good nursing is everything in your case. No, no, it won't do!" But H. would not give in, he had resolved to make this unique sacrifice, and overcame all our objec­tions. We had to yield, there was no saying him nay. The faithful brother was sent to another patient, and a miserable, depraved drunkard from Wilhelmsdorf took his place. It was the beginning of a difficult period for the little cripple. It took a long time for the unpractised hand of his new nurse to grow accustomed to his work. The patient suffered much pain from awkward handling, but he was always uncom­plaining, cheerful, gentle and unresisting, and in time they became used to one another. With shining eyes H. would say: "I believe he will be saved yet!" Oh, how he must have prayed in secret for this one soul that he so longed to have with him in glory.

One day Sister Riekchen came to my room in great agitation. "A terrible thing has happened!" she said, and went on to tell me that while she was serving out the food in the men's ward, she had heard muffled cries of pain from H.'s room. She hurried to the door, but found it locked. She knocked and called to no avail and all the while she could hear the moans and cries for help. She was a decided character, and dealt with the situation by breaking through a panel in the door with an axe and so unlocked it from the inside. She was horrified by what she saw. Lean­ing over the helpless patient lay the attendant, dead drunk, beating him and maltreating him, while H. called vainly for help. In alarm and indignation the wretch was sent away, and the poor little cripple was comforted and restored as far as possible to a better condition. Shaking and trembling he told them what had happened, and we all determined that the drunkard must go back to Wilhelmsdorf, and H. must have his good brother again. But he was scarce recovered from his fright and pain before he shook his head resolutely at any such proposal and said with a sad smile: "Oh, please let me try again. I believe all the same that he can be saved."

We were overwhelmed by the strength of such love, such faith, such hope, and we had to give in. After the unhappy man had slept off his drunken bout and had been thoroughly admonished, he returned to his post, deeply ashamed and penitent. And it was not to be in vain! The unconquer­able love and patience of the poor sick cripple melted the heart of the drunkard, degraded though he was. He never drank again while he was with him, and nursed him to the end with devoted affection. I saw him myself stand by the bier of his transfigured friend and say with tears in his eyes: "I owe him everything, he saved my soul."

I do not remember now how long they were together, whether it was only a few months or whether it was a year. There was no marked change in H.'s condition. He read his Bible steadily from the first chapter to the last. There was a radiance in his face when he read Rev. 21, and he let the holy words sink deeply into his soul. Then suddenly he had a stroke. He was called away without any struggle or pain, and we confidently believe he is now looking with transfigured eyes at the glory which is described for us in the closing chapters of the Bible. He did not live in vain! Weak and yet strong, poor and yet rich in God, incapable of doing the least thing for himself, and yet at the impulse of love he made the uttermost sacrifice so that he might lay one soul, one saved soul, at the feet of His Redeemer.

Dear pitiful H. how you will shine in glory! How the sacrifice of your life, perfected through suffering, will bring you honor there. The great ones of this earth will sink into insignificance beside you. I thank you, you taught me much, I saw in your life what love can do!

May your heart be stirred for your Master. To whom much is given much is required.

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