One night, when preaching in Philadelphia, right down by the side of
the pulpit there was a young lady, whose eyes were riveted on me as if
she were drinking in every word. It is precious to preach to people
like that; they generally get good, even if the sermon be poor.
I got interested in her, and after I had done talking, I went and
spoke to her. "Are you a Christian?" "No, I wish I was; I have been
seeking Jesus for three years." I said, "There must be some mistake."
She looked strangely at me, and said, "Don't you believe me?" "Well,
no doubt you thought you were seeking Jesus; but it don't take an
anxious sinner three years to meet an anxious Saviour." "What am I to
do, then?" "The matter is, you are trying to _do_ something; you must
just believe on the Lord Jesus Christ."
"Oh, I am sick and tired of the word, 'Believe, believe, believe!' I
don't know what it is." "Well," I said, "we'll change the word; take
'trust.'" "If I say, I'll trust Him, will He save me?" "No, I don't
say that; you may _say_ a thousand things, but if you _do_ trust Him."
"Well," she said, "I do trust Him; but," she added in the same breath,
"I don't feel any better." "Ah, I've got it now! You've been looking
for feelings for three years, instead of for Jesus. Faith is up above,
not down here."
People are always looking for feelings. You are getting up a new
translation of the Bible here, and if the men who are translating it
would only put in _feelings_ instead of _faith_, what a rush there
would be for that Bible. But if you look from Genesis to Revelation,
you cannot find feelings attached to salvation. We must rise above
feelings. So I said to this lady, "You cannot control your feelings;
if you could, what a time you'd have! I know I would never have the
toothache or the headache."