A godly minister was once traveling in Scotland, and stopped off at a small country inn. When evening came, the landlord asked him to conduct family worship. He consented on the condition that the servants of the household also attend. When it seemed that all had assembled, the minister asked:

“Is everyone here?”

“Yes,” answered the landlord.

“Not one missing?” pressed the minister.

“Oh, well,” admitted the landlord, “there is a poor girl who does the dirty work of the kitchen. But she is not fit to come in with the others.”

“Call her,” directed the minister. “I will not proceed until she comes.”

And at his insistence the landlord yielded. Her neglected, hopeless appearance touched the minister’s heart, and before he left the next morning, he called upon her and said:

“I wish to teach you a prayer, and I want you to pray it until I come back again. The prayer is this: ‘Lord, show me myself.’”

Three days later he registered once again at the little inn, and inquired of the landlord:

“How is that poor girl?”

“She is spoiled,” he answered. “She is of no use whatsoever. She can do no more work. She weeps all the time. She mopes and is melancholy. I do not know what is the matter with her.”

The minister knew, and he asked to see her. When the landlord had brought her in, the man of God said:

“Have you been praying, ‘Lord, show me myself’?”

“Oh, sir, yes,” she sobbed in distress, “and I am so wicked I can do nothing but weep over my sins.”

“Now let me teach you another prayer. It is this: ‘Lord, show me Thyself.’”

Years passed. The minister was preaching in Glasgow. As the service closed one evening, a neat, attractive woman whose face fairly shone with joy, came up to him and asked:

“Do you remember me?”

“No,” he answered, “I do not.”

“Do you remember teaching a poor scrub girl in a hotel to pray, ‘Lord show me myself’”?

“Yes, I remember that well.”

“I am that girl. You remember how I prayed that prayer and got such a view of myself that I was overwhelmed with grief and despair? Then you came back and taught me another prayer: ‘Lord, show me Thyself,’ and He really showed me Himself. All the grief and despair went out of my heart, and I trusted Him, and found in Him a Saviour, and He made me what I am today.”

“Lord show me myself—not somebody else; just me—the very innermost inside of me!”

I wonder how many of us have the courage to pray such a prayer, and the grace to look at ourselves honestly, and without apology, when the prayer is answered.

“The heart,” Jeremiah tells us, “is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,” so the sight we may expect to see will not be a pretty one. But also, out of this same come “the issues of life,” so its contents must be important. Let’s have a look!

Do I keep the golden rule?

Am I honest, absolutely honest, with my fellows? Do I pay my bills promptly, as I wish others to do when I am the creditor instead of the debtor? Or do I serenely go my way with an “I don’t care” shrug, owing the local merchants? Am I an honest debtor?

If I have asked the loan of money—even ever so small an amount—do I just conveniently “forget” about it? Or if it is “things” I borrow, do I return them without undue delay, and in as good condition as I received them from their owner? Am I an honest borrower?

Do I gossip, backbite, and slander? Do I “talk about” people? Or do I keep still when others have momentarily obscured all their good? Do I help Mrs. Rumor, “the biggest liar in the world,” to spread abroad her tales of imagination? Do I speak the truth—and nothing but the truth? And do I remember that often the kindest, best, most considerate thing to say is nothing—and then repeat it? Am I charitable with the mistakes of others, remembering that it is always my privilege to believe that they have done their honest best? Do I really treat my fellows always and under all circumstances as I would like them to treat me?

And am I honest with God? By purchase I am His. Do I act like it? Does He have all there is of me, or do I keep more or less of myself for me? Am I willing to let His will be my will? His way my way? Or am I so “broad-minded” that I indulge in things of which He has expressly commanded “Thou shalt not”? He asks that I return to Him a tenth of the income He gives me; but money is—well—money! Do I pay an honest tithe? Do I always? Am I really-truly honest with my God?

No, “myself” looks anything but good!

“Lord, show me Thyself—Thy real self.” Discouraging and heartbreaking as the inlook is, what a privilege to turn to the uplook. “I’ve tried in vain a thousand ways,” sings the poet, “my fears to quell, my hopes to raise! But what I need, the Bible says, is ever only Jesus.” He is the “chiefest among ten thousand,” the one “altogether lovely,” my Friend, my Redeemer, my Father. He is the forgiver of all sin, the cleanser of all hearts. I do not have to rid myself of sin—I am helpless within its powerful grasp. I do not have to save myself—indeed I cannot. All I can do is to accept Him, let Him come into my heart and have absolutely all there is of me. He is perfect, and in Him, I, too, may live the perfect life. Then in place of tears and grief and despair, great joy and the peace which passeth understanding will be mine.

“Lord, show me myself!” Have you courage to pray this prayer—now—today? And having seen, don’t be disheartened. Pray again—this time,

“Lord, show me Thyself!” And you will find Him a wonderful Saviour!