Hudson Taylor's Thoughts
He meant it. He saw no hope for me.
While examining a body of a man who died from a horrible fever, I didn't realize a poke from a needle the night before had not healed. The deadly germ entered my body and worked quickly.
To save the cost of a ride to my home, I chose to walk the eight miles. I didn't get far before my legs felt like soggy noodles. I had to spend the money on a horse drawn buggy or die in the street.
My landlady saw me stumble to my apartment. She sent a servant to help.
I tried desperately to focus every thought on helping the people of China. I simply had to get well. God could hardly send a dead man as a missionary to China.
The servant opened the door and helped me sit on the sofa. She asked, "Can I get you anything?"
"Yes, a basin of warm water and my medical bag."
The poor woman hurried about as if her deeds could keep me alive. Maybe they did. While she ran about my apartment, I told her about God's love. I sputtered out the who plan of Salvation. I couldn't help it.
She brought the basin to me. "There, there, now, Mr. Taylor. You just lie there and feel better. Don't be fussing about God's love now."
"You don't understand. I need," I struggled to take a deep breath, "I need to tell you about God's love."
She wiped her hands in her apron. "Very well, then. I will listen if you'll calm yourself."
I searched through my bag for a scalpel. "God loves you deeply. Your sins, the wrong things you have done in your life, have kept you from going to heaven."
Her brows furrowed. "Then how can I go to heaven?"
My hand trembled as I washed my wound and the scalpel in preparation for the next step. While I worked I told her more.
"God sent his Son, Jesus, to teach us what to do. He was and is the only one who has live a perfect life. Jesus chose to take the punishment for our sins. No one else could pay the price because no one else lived a perfect life. He died for me, and He died for you. God says in His Word that whoever believes in Jesus as God's Son and accepts His gift of salvation, will go to heaven."
I took the knife and sliced open the area of my finger where the pin had poked and squeeze with all my strength to bleed out the poisoned blood. It hurt terribly. I screamed from the pain and fainted.
When I awoke, I found myself in bed, Uncle Benjamin sitting in the chair next to me, and a doctor speaking with him. The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hudson. Your fever is beyond what medicine can do."
Come back next week to see what happened.
J. Hudson Taylor
Do you have questions?
Photo courtesy of visualbiblealive.com
Research resources: J. Hudson Taylor, An Autobiography by J. Hudson Taylor; It is Not Death to Die, a new biography of Hudson Taylor by Jim Cromarty; Hudson Taylor Founder, China Inland Mission by Vance Christie; J. Hudson Taylor, A Man in Christ, by Roger Steer, and Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret by dr. & Mrs. Howard Taylor.
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