Daisy In The Field

" 'By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified.'

Even you, papa, are not good enough for that. God's law calls

for perfection."

"Nobody is perfect."

"No, papa; and so all have come short of the glory of God."

"Well, then, I don't see what you are going to do, Daisy."

"Christ has paid our debt, papa."

"Then nobody need do anything."

"Oh, no, papa; for the free pardon that is made out for you

and me - the white robe that Christ counsels us to buy of Him

- waits for our acceptance and is given only on conditions. It

is ready for every one who will trust Christ and obey Him; a

free pardon, papa; a white robe that will hide all our

ugliness. But we must be willing to have it on the

conditions."

"And how then, Daisy?"

"Why, this way, papa. See, - I am dead - with Christ; it is as

if I myself had died under the law, instead of my substitute;

the penalty is paid, and the law has nothing to say to a dead

malefactor, you know, papa. And now, I am dead to the law, and

my life is Christ's. I live because He lives, and by His

Spirit living in me; all I am and have belongs to Christ; the

life that I live, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who

loved me and gave Himself for me. I am not trying to keep the

law, to buy my life; but I am keeping the law, because Christ

has given me life - do you see, papa? and all my life is love

to Him."

"It seems to me, Daisy," said papa, "that if faith is all,

people may lead what lives they choose."

"Papa, the faith that believes in Christ, loves and obeys Him;

or it is just no faith. It is nothing. It is dead."

"And faith makes such a change in people's feelings and

lives?"

"Why, yes, papa, for then they live by Christ's strength and

not their own; and in the love of Him, and not in the love of

themselves any longer."

"Daisy," said papa, "it is something I do not know, and I see

that you do know; and I would like to be like you anyhow. Pray

for me, my child, that I may have that faith."

I had never done it in his presence before, but now I knelt

down by the table and uttered all my heart to the One who

could hear us both. I could not have done it, I think, a few

weeks earlier; but this last storm had seemed to shake me free

from everything. What mattered, if I could only help to show

papa the way? He was weeping, I think, while I was praying; I

thought he sought to hide the traces of it when I rose up; and

I went from the room with a gladness in my heart that said,

"What if, even if Thorold is lost to me! There is something

better beyond."