At one time my sister had trouble with her little boy, and the father said, “‘Why, Lillte man, you must go now and ask your mothers forgiveness.” The little fellow said he wouldn’t. The father says, “You must. If you don’t go and ask your mothers forgiveness I shall have to undress you and put you to bed.” He was a bright, nervous little fellow, never still a moment, and the father thought he would have such a dread of being undressed and put to bed. But the little fellow wouldn’t, so they undressed him and put him to bed.

The father went to his business, and when he came home at noon he said to his wife: “Has your boy asked your forgiveness?” “No,” she said, “he hasn’t.” So the father went to him and said, “Why, little man, why don’t you ask your mother’s forgiveness?” The little fellow shook his head, “Won’t do it.” “But, Sammy, you have got to.” “Couldn’t.” The father went down to his office, and stayed all the afternoon, and when he came home he asked his wife, “Has he asked your forgiveness?” “No, I took something up to him and tried to have him eat, but he wouldn’t.” So the father went up to see him, and said, “Now, you, just ask your mother’s forgiveness, and you may be dressed and come down to supper with us.” “Couldn’t do it,” The father coaxed, but the little fellow “couldn’t do it.” That was all they could get out of him. You know very well he could, but he didn’t want to. Now, the hardest thing a man has to do is to become a Christian, and it is the easiest. That may seem a contradiction, but it isn’t. The hard point is because he don’t want to.

The hardest thing for a man to do is to give up his will. That night they retired, and they thought surely early in the morning, he will be ready to ask his mothers forgiveness. The father went to him–that was Friday morning–to see if he was ready to ask his mother’s forgiveness, but he “couldn’t.” The father and mother felt so bad about it they couldn’t eat; they thought it was to darken their whole life.

Perhaps that boy thought that father and mother didn’t love him. Just what many sinners think because God won’t let them have their own way. The father went to his business, and when he came home he said to his wife, “Has Sammy asked your forgiveness?” “No.” So he went to the little fellow and said, “‘Now, Sammy, are you not going to ask your mother’s forgiveness?” “Can’t,” and that was all they could get out of him. The father couldn’t eat any dinner; it was like death in the house.

It seemed as if the boy was going to conquer his father and mother. Instead of his little will being broken, it looked very much as if he was going to break theirs. Late Friday afternoon, “Mother, mother, forgive,” says the boy–“me.” And the little fellow said “me,” and he sprang to his feet and said: “I have said it, I have said it. Now dress me, and take me down to see father. He will be so glad to know I have said it.” And she took him down, and when the little fellow came in he said, “I’ve said it, I’ve said it.”

Oh, my friends, it is so easy to say, “I will arise and go to my God.” It is the most reasonable thing you can do. Isn’t an unreasonable thing to hold out? Come right to God just this very hour. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.”