Labors in a New Field
For the next three years my brother and I worked in Missouri, in territory
lying in Maries, Phelps, Pulaski and Miller counties. The country was very
rough and hilly. Many of the people were very wicked--most of them being of
the type that live in a rough country remote from railroads.
A Baptist minister whom we met soon after we began work in this part of the
State, is a fair illustration of the religious standard of the people. This
man, who, for the want of a better name, we shall call Father B--, a name
by which he was known far and near, was called on all occasions where a
minister was needed throughout a territory twenty or thirty miles in
extent. He served as evangelist and pastor, and officiated at weddings and
funerals. The people among whom he labored supported him quite liberally;
but he used the money they gave him in buying whiskey, and spent a good
share of his time in a drunken, or semi-drunken condition.
He used frequently to attend our meetings, because as he expressed it, he
liked "to hear the woman preacher." Very frequently he staggered into
meeting supported by the man who accompanied him, and sometimes had to be
supported after he was seated. His seat on the front bench of the small
country schoolhouse in which the meetings were held, brought him so near me
that the offensive smell of his breath sickened me almost beyond endurance,
and I could scarcely continue my sermon. Yet this man, habitual drunkard as
he was, and filthy with tobacco, was considered throughout that region
worthy of financial support and of the title and office of minister.
About fifteen years before we went to that country, a certain woman, who
for many years now has been a true sister in the church, had been saved in
one of Father B----'s meetings, obtaining, as she has always believed, a
real experience of salvation. But when she saw that Father B---- drank
whiskey and chewed tobacco, she became discouraged and took to attending
parties and dances. When called before the church to give an account of her
conduct, she defended herself by saying that she did not think it any worse
for her to attend parties and dances, than it was for the preacher to drink
whiskey and to chew tobacco. I do not now remember what action the
congregation took in regard to her; but at any rate, she went into sin, and
lost her experience. This sister came to our meetings, sought the Lord, and
was again restored to divine favor.
Father B---- was a very old man when we first met him. He died before we
left that part of the country. His last illness was preceded by a drunken
spree, during which some rougish boys painted a barren fig-tree on his bald
head. He died soon afterward. Notwithstanding the efforts of those who
prepared the body for burial, his head went to its last resting-place still
marked by some of the paint that portrayed him as a barren fig-tree.
But not all of the people had such a low conception of religion. God had
some true children in that part of the country. My brother had already held
meetings in these countries; God had blessed his efforts; and a number of
souls had been saved and sanctified. Nevertheless, when we arrived, the
outlook for holding meetings was not good. It was now late in the fall--too
late for outdoor meetings--so we began holding services in small
schoolhouses. The people came out in crowds. God's Spirit worked on their
hearts, and numbers came to the Lord.
You must not suppose, however, that any one could preach the straight
gospel very long in such a place without meeting opposition. One night
while my brother and I were holding our first series of meetings, at a
schoolhouse on Dry Creek, in Maries County, Missouri, a mob of about a
dozen drunken men came with the intention of breaking up the meeting. When
they came, the service had not yet begun. The men entered the room in a
boisterous way, talking loudly, and acting in an offensive insulting manner
toward every one in the room. I do not remember just how it came about, but
for some reason one of the men caught hold of my brother and gave him a
jerk that sent him whirling for some distance across the room. I was afraid
that Jeremiah was in danger; but when I saw that he was not at all
frightened, my fears subsided. There was so much noise and loud talking,
however, that we could not begin the meeting, so we offered earnest prayer
that the Lord would take charge of things and quell the disturbance. I
tried to preach, but there was still too much confusion.
While I was standing in the pulpit, one of the drunk men near the door
pointed a revolver at me, but God protected me: the weapon did not go off.
The man who had pointed the revolver at me, soon went out, accompanied by
his comrades and by a number of other men who wanted some of the whiskey.
Some of the women went to the door to beg their husbands and brothers to
come in, and stood there crying, fearful that their relatives would be
killed. I went to the door and said to the women, "Come in. If there is any
trouble you can do nothing to prevent it." "We would come in too," said one
of the rowdies, "but you always begin on us." "No," I answered, "we will
not begin on you. We shall be glad to have you come in, and we shall expect
you to behave yourselves."
Most of the men outside came in, and the meeting began. The Lord gave me
the message. During my discourse, I said, "Fools make a mock at sin, but
who is it that mocks God?" "No fools, no tun. You know that too," cried one
of the men. Then he began to say the Lord's prayer, but was too drunk to
finish it. I paid no attention to the interruption, and continued my
sermon. There was no more disturbance, and not a revolver was fired until
the mob was some distance from the house. One of the men gave himself up
the next day and three others were arrested. They were a shamefaced set of
fellows after it was all over.
Early in December we were holding meeting on Dry Creek not far from where
we held our first series of meetings in Meries county. Some grown-up boys
and girls, who had been drinking freely, came to the services and created
such a disturbance that Jeremiah thought it best in the interest of good
order to have them arrested. On the day of the trial the two lawyers
employed to defend these young men and women, ridiculed and belittled my
brother, calling him "the immaculate Jeremiah," and insinuating that he
thought himself almost equal to Christ. At first I felt greatly tried, but
when I looked round and saw that Jeremiah's face was glowing and that he
seemed almost happy enough to shout, my burden all left me. I made up my
mind that since my brother was so triumphant I, too, would throw off the
burden and claim victory. The young people who had disturbed the meeting
had to pay a small fine. So far as I know, they behaved better in the
future.
Just a few days after the occurrence just related, we began a meeting in
the Bell schoolhouse, about five miles further down Dry Creek. My brother
and I were staying with different families in the district. An M. E. South
preacher who lived in the neighborhood, and who had heard of our trouble
with the young folks in the other district, sent word to my brother that a
mob was coming that night to break up our meeting, and that we should stay
away and let him hold that service. He believed that the young people
opposed us because we taught holiness, divine healing, etc.; and thought
that his age, and the confidence of the people of the neighborhood in him
would enable him to control the mob and to hold the meeting without
difficulty. He tried to send word to me too; but, as I was staying with a
family who lived some distance away, I did not receive his message.
Jeremiah remained at his boarding place.
I went to the schoolhouse that evening expecting nothing unusual; but to my
surprise I found in the house and yard a boisterous crowd of twenty-five or
thirty men, who had been drinking freely of the liberal supply of whiskey
they had brought with them. They were banded together for the express
purpose of having a good time and breaking up the meeting. I can give you
no adequate idea of the scene that greeted me as I approached. Men were
running in and out of the schoolhouse, drinking, yelling, swearing, and
talking at the top of their voices. The confusion was terrible.
Soon after my arrival the old preacher attempted to begin the service. He
gave out a song, which a few of those present tried to sing; but the crowd
was so noisy that the preacher alternately plead with them and reproved
them, but without avail. The noise increased: the confusion became so great
that, in despair, the old preacher gave up the attempt to hold a meeting
and began to take down the names of those members of the mob whom he knew.
The men had with them a number of bottles and jugs of whiskey. Drinking,
swearing, and yelling continued without intermission, and from time to time
we could hear the firing of revolvers. As soon as it seemed safe to do so,
I went home with one of my friends, who lived near by.
As soon as possible, the old minister had a number of the members of the
mob arrested and brought to trial for disturbing the peace. The preacher's
actions during the trial showed that his object was, not so much to
preserve the peace, as to take vengeance. Not content with a fine, he
insisted on a jail sentence.
After the prosecution had offered its evidence against the mob, the lawyers
on the defense made fun of the preacher saying: "What! you! A minister of
the gospel! You want to send them to jail! You should be praying for them
and trying to get them saved." His reply was, "Yes, I will do all I can to
send them to prison and then I will go and grin at them (in derision)
through the bars." I do not now recall whether or not the culprits received
any punishment; but at any rate, the preacher's desire for vengeance was
not satisfied. It was a common report about the country that he was so
disappointed and mortified over what had happened that he did not sleep any
that night. The difference of spirit manifested by my brother and that
manifested by the old preacher shows the difference between the operation
of the love of God and of human vengeance.
Soon after we began our labors, I became afflicted with the itch, which was
then epidemic in that part of the country. A neighboring high school had
been closed because of this disagreeable affliction. Previous to taking the
disease myself, I had met some of the saints who had it, and who had not
been healed as soon as I thought they should be. I shall have to relate
that through ignorance--to my shame, be it said--I was not as compassionate
to those unfortunate ones as I should have been. I had made assertions
similar to this: "If you can't trust the Lord for healing, I would advise
you to use remedies. Mother says that any one who would keep such an
affliction any length of time is not decent." Many of the people were
wounded because of my heartless way of talking, though I did it ignorantly.
The Lord saw that I needed a good lesson, and therefore let the malady come
upon me in a severe form. While preaching in small overheated school-houses
with but very poor ventilation, my body became overheated, thus aggravating
the disease, and soon I was not able to be in the public services at all.
My arms swelled so that I could not straighten them; and for some months, I
had but little use of my hands. This affliction baffled my faith more than
any that I had had up to that time, but I had no temptation to resort to
remedies. The case of the lady preacher whom we visited in northern
Missouri stood before me as a warning. I decided to have my battle now, and
not to give way and lose my healing faith. So I held on steadily by the
help of my brother and fought the battle through until God gave me victory.
It was some time before I got rid of all the symptoms. The Lord showed me
that I must be willing to go into the work again with them still showing.
To do so, required humility, and I had to seek the Lord for help. I met
rebuffs of which only the Lord and I knew; but God was ordering this
experience, and the trial lasted no longer than was for my good. To
complete the lesson, God laid upon me the duty of confessing publicly the
attitude I had held towards those who had the itch before me, and the way I
had talked to them. I made my confession, humbly asking the forgiveness of
all who had been wounded by my words. God's way is humility before honor.
The going down is painful; but God's lifting up afterwards is sweet. Praise
his dear name! Christ was a meek and lowly Savior. To follow his example we
must go the lowly way.
While yet in sectarianism I got the impression that the devil had to be
stirred before a good revival could be held. Acting on this principle, I
prayed that the Lord would stir the devil in the series of meetings my
brother and I were then beginning at the Tennyson schoolhouse.
My prayer was answered. One evening near the beginning of this revival nine
respectable young men of Vichy, Missouri, hired horses and saddles at the
livery barn and came out to the schoolhouse to attend the meeting. Two
desperate characters, reputed to have escaped from the penitentiary, were
present, but remained outside the house. The services proceeded unmolested;
but, after the service, when the nine young men from Vichy went to get
their horses, they found that some one had cut the saddles and bridles in
pieces and turned their horses loose. Others found their harness cut and
the nuts of their wagons gone. The two desperadoes now began walking back
and forth through the yard, displaying their weapons and threatening to
shoot any one that accused them of committing any depredation. As the burrs
had been removed from the wagon in which I came, I had to ride home on a
mule behind another person. Jeremiah said, "Mary, I hope you have learned
the lesson to not pray the Lord to stir the devil until you know you are
able to cast him out. It is not always necessary that the devil be stirred
before a revival. Souls can be saved and even devils cast out without the
devil's being stirred and the power of the enemy being put on exhibition."
I never again prayed for the devil to be stirred.
About the beginning of the new year, the affliction which I have already
mentioned, rendered me unfit for public service, and for about three months
my brother and I stayed at the home of Brother Baugh on Dry Creek, where we
read and studied and prayed and fought the affliction that had been imposed
upon us. My brother got his prayers through and obtained healing much
sooner than I. He used afterward to say, "I shall thank God through all
eternity for having had the itch; because when I prayed through for
healing, I struck the evening light," meaning that he was beginning to
discern the unity of God's people. This remark was often followed by a
happy, hearty laugh.
Early in the spring I had so far recovered from my affliction that my
brother and I began again to hold meetings in the schoolhouses in the
counties where we had been working, covering in all a territory about
fifteen or twenty miles in extent. These meetings usually lasted two,
three, and four weeks at each place, and were very profitable in the
salvation of souls. There were some things in connection with our work,
however, that puzzled us greatly. For instance, after we had held a good
meeting in which a number of souls had been saved, and had gone on to other
appointments, preachers of different denominations would follow us up,
preaching against two works of grace and divine healing, and casting
reflections on us as ministers, with the result that upon returning after
an absence of several weeks, we would find the people discouraged, and the
congregation in a bad spiritual condition.
These things made our hearts ache. We saw that in our absence the people
needed some one to give them advice, encouragement, and spiritual help.
Finally my brother said to me, "Mary, I am going to write to the Free
Methodists and ask them if they will send us a preacher that will preach
holiness." It was not long until we received the following letter from the
Free Methodist Conference: "If you get a congregation large enough to
guarantee a minister a salary of five or six hundred dollars a year, we
will send you a man that believes in holiness." As they did not say that
the minister they would send would have the experience of sanctification,
their letter afforded but little encouragement.
While awaiting the reply of the Free Methodist conference, my brother had
visited the Tennyson schoolhouse where we had held meetings sometime
before. He found that no sect minister had yet demoralized the believers,
and the members were more spiritual than those of any congregation we had
yet visited. This occurrence threw some light on our difficulty. My
brother, as was his usual custom when he had anything of great importance
weighing on his mind, resorted to prayer. As it was March and the weather
quite cool, he put on his overcoat and went out to spend the day alone
until he got the leadings of the Lord.
God began to show him the sin of division. Jeremiah did not see matters
very clearly yet, for he asked the Lord how we could get along without any
human organization. The Lord asked him what good they had done, and brought
to his mind the fact that it was only the spiritual ones, those who had not
partaken of the spirit of division, that God could use to any advantage. My
brother then inquired of the Lord how this sin of division had been brought
about, and the Lord showed him that he could find the answer to his
question in history.
When my brother had an opportunity to read history, he found that every
sect builder told his own story. He saw that not one of the human
organizations measured to the pattern of the New Testament church, and that
since the sects have human founders, they could not be the church of God as
that institution is of divine origin.
My brother then went back to the Tennyson schoolhouse, and preached his
first sermon on the subject of the unity of God's people. The people
joyfully accepted the truth and walked in the light. Jeremiah thought that
when I heard what God had revealed to him I would be rejoiced; but, to his
surprise, I could not yet discern the body of Christ. I was still under the
influence of the wine of Babylon.
Our meetings had been attended with excellent results. Many souls had
sought the Lord. In one meeting, which lasted three or four weeks, the
whole country was stirred. Many young men and even whole families got under
deep conviction. After a day spent in fasting and prayer, we came together
in the evening, and conviction settled so heavily upon the people and God
worked so mightily that we labored at the altar until two o'clock in the
morning. Almost every seat was an altar. Rain was falling, and the brush
arbor in which the meeting was held did not protect the congregation; but
the interest was so great that the seekers paid no attention to the water
that constantly dripped through the boughs overhead. About twenty souls, I
think, sought the Lord that night. During the whole series of meetings, a
large number were saved.
About this time Sister Julia Meyers, now of Ima, New Mexico, joined our
company, and for some months, traveled with us in the work. She had been
healed before coming to us; but she got light on the one church in our
meetings. The Lord had been teaching me to more fully trust him for
temporal needs as well as for spiritual benefits. When Sister Meyers joined
our company, I began to teach her the things that God had been showing me.
I saw that she needed help. First she began borrowing money from me now and
then to get what she needed. I felt that I should give her the money.
Later, when I needed a pair of shoes, she began to feel that she should get
them for me. She had enough money to buy the shoes, but found it a little
difficult to obey the impression.
In the meantime I was earnestly praying for the shoes. God made me to
understand that my prayer had gone through, and that I could have had the
shoes sooner, had I prayed more earnestly. I was upstairs. It came to me,
"How do you know but that the shoes are downstairs waiting for you?" In
less than five minutes I was called downstairs; and, sure enough, there
were the shoes. At first I did not know where they came from; but Sister
Meyers was so blessed in her obedience and sacrifice that she could not
keep her secret, and we praised the Lord together.
As I was preaching the straight gospel of salvation from sin,
sanctification, and divine healing, it was to be expected that I should
meet with opposition. I met with some very peculiar and unexpected
persecutions. Falsehoods were told about me that should have shamed the
devil himself. One rumor was that I was one of the famous outlaws, known as
the "James Boys," disguised as a woman. One of the truth fighters published
a long account of my meetings in the county newspaper. He branded me as an
impostor, saying that I taught false doctrines. He affirmed that
sanctification and divine healing were not for the people of the present
day, that no one but Enoch and Elijah had been sanctified, both of whom
went to heaven without dying. He ended his tirade against me by saying that
I ought to be driven out of the country, and that he would join a mob
raised for that purpose.
A Methodist lady, who no doubt had some understanding of Bible doctrine,
replied to the gentleman with an article, in which she said that the
Wesleys taught sanctification, and George Mueller, divine healing. "If,"
said she, "the gentleman would read more, he would be better informed.
There is some hope yet for 'Tom Paine,'" referring to the fictitious name
signed to his article. I did not know of this wordy battle until it was
ended.
At times my brother would hold a meeting at one place and at the same time
I would hold one a few miles distant. It was at one such time that I held a
meeting in the county courthouse. I was assisted by a brother of the M. E.
South denomination--a young college student, with but little experience in
gospel work, thought that he could not preach unless he had his sermons
written out. We preached on alternate evenings. One evening he came to me
and said, "I wish you would occupy the pulpit tonight. I have been away and
have had no chance for preparation." I told him that I had not had time for
preparation either. "Sister Cole," he replied, "you can preach better
without preparation than I can with preparation, besides, I haven't had my
supper yet." "Perhaps you could preach better without supper," said I. Thus
I held him to his duty and did not sympathize with him very much either.
That night he had to lean so hard on God that many people said it was the
best message they had ever heard him deliver.
Perhaps no young preacher going out in gospel work ever felt his inability
more than I. As God had promised to be my sufficiency, I leaned hard upon
him and did not feel discouraged. My education was so limited, that
sometimes during a sermon, while trying to explain the Scriptures, I would
lack words to express myself, and would look to the Lord, taking him as my
wisdom. On such occasions he would supply me with words, and by his Spirit
show me how to use them. Later, upon looking in the dictionary, I would
find that they had been used correctly. This experience has been repeated
many times in my ministry. Thus the Lord proved true his promise to be my
spokesman. When I leaned on him, I was never confounded; no, not once.
Truly our God is a covenant-keeping God, whom we can trust under all
circumstances and at all times.
When the Lord healed me, he bestowed upon me the gift of exhortation and
with it such a great measure of the Spirit's power that when I read the
Scriptures, there was a heavenly illumination upon it, and I could see a
sermon in almost every verse. At times the strength of this heavenly light
so dazzled me that my mind and body were well-nigh overwhelmed. I studied
and preached the Word under a light whose brightness could come only from
the Spirit of the Lord, and I by spiritual sight could see through the
Scriptures with a vision as unclouded as the vision before my natural eyes
when looking through a clear glass. Oh, it was wonderful! I have always
thought that God blessed me with this divine unfolding of the Scriptures
because I did not at all depend upon my own human understanding, but leaned
wholly upon him at the very time that I was studying or expounding the
Word. As I became accustomed to this heavenly light, I was not so much
dazzled by its brilliancy, but the gift of exhortation with its
accompaniment of divine power, has been mine, except for one brief time,
throughout my ministry.
As I went from place to place preaching, I began to realize that I needed
another gift of the Spirit--the gift of teaching. When the Lord first
impressed me that he wanted me to teach, I begged off, saying that I
stammered so that it was very hard for me to read. The Lord pitied me and
took another plan to get me to do what he desired. Up to this time I had
great freedom and much help in exhorting, but now God seemed to have taken
this gift from me, and I became as one who had never had it. The Lord
showed me that I would have to trust him for ability to teach and to
explain the Word, and for help to overcome my stammering, or I would have
no gift at all. So I got down and cried to him like a child and plead with
him for help.
When the Lord saw that I was determined to obey him, he not only gave me
the gift of teaching; but, to my surprise, he restored to me the gift of
exhortation and let me exercise it as in days gone by. Surely the Lord
humored me. I now had two gifts instead of one. But I would not advise
others to do as I did, for though the Lord has no respect of person, you
may have more light than I had at that time, and it may be that the Lord
would not excuse you because of ignorance, as he excused me.
Quite early in my evangelistic work I held a meeting in a neighborhood
where lived a man who had been an M. E. exhorter. He had once been saved,
so the neighbors said, but having accepted a false doctrine that was being
taught in that part of the country, and having partaken of its spirit, he
was in a bad condition when I went there. He had rejected Christ entirely,
saying that Jesus was nothing but an impostor.
Sometime before I went to the neighborhood, one of his children had gotten
saved, and during the meeting that I held, another one had also come to
Christ. Knowing their father's condition, the children feared his
persecution and insisted that I should come and visit him. They thought
that if I went to the house with them he would be more considerate. For
their sakes, I went. I had heard that his practise was to invite ministers
to his house, and then to belittle Christ in their presence, to give them
no opportunity to return thanks, and to make them feel as far as possible
his opposition to Christ.
After some conversation, he took down the Bible--the Old Testament I mean,
he had no New Testament in the house--and told me that he was going to
prove to me that Christ had never come. I told him that he could not do
that, because by experience I knew that Christ had come. "If," said I, "you
are going to try to prove to me that Christ has not come, you have gotten
hold of the wrong person. I would stake my life that Christ has come. I
have met the conditions prescribed in his Word, and he has given me the
witness of my salvation, and has also healed me."
I tried in various ways to see if there was a tender spot in his heart that
God could touch. Among other things, I said, "When I first started out in
the work of the Lord, I wrote to my mother saying, 'I have found many good
friends. All who are Jesus' friends,' I wrote, 'are my friends.' But," I
continued, "I suppose I have now found a man who is not a friend of Jesus,
and yet is my friend." I thought this would shame him. "Yes," he answered,
"I am your friend, but not his." I returned thanks at the table and also
asked him the privilege of praying before I left. The Spirit of God
intimidated him till he did not dare to refuse me. Never did the name of
Jesus seem half so sweet to me as when I got down to pray before this
wicked man. It seemed as though all the sweetness of heaven was wrapped up
in that name. I could say but little: I could only breathe out the precious
name of Jesus; and oh, how he magnified himself through His name! Although
I felt the presence of infernal spirits all around me--the very spirit that
crucified Christ--yet I felt the presence, too, of the blessed Lord, the
Christ of the Bible.
Still thinking that I might say something that would touch his heart, I
said, as I was about to leave, "Pray for me." He said, "I will; and you
pray for me: but not in the name of Jesus;" adding a moment later, "but I
know that you will do as you please anyhow." I felt then that unless God
directly ordered it, I never wanted to go again to a place where Christ was
so entirely rejected. I thought of the scripture which says that they had
forgotten that they were once purged. If ever I met a man who had sinned
against the Holy Ghost, this was certainly the man.
In the early years of my ministry, I sometimes found that when the Lord was
burdening my heart to preach on certain subjects my sympathy stood in the
way; that is, I was afraid I would hurt somebody's feelings. One night I
dreamed that another minister and I were standing near a large casket
containing two dead bodies. It seemed that God wanted us to dissect these
two bodies, and I said to the minister who was with me, "Brother, we had
better get to work before the stench fills the room."
When I awoke I knew that God was trying to teach me something. Just a few
days afterwards I went across the country accompanied by the brother, and
his wife, of whom I had dreamed. Some of the congregation at the place
where we were going to hold meeting on the next Sunday, were professing to
be saved, and at the same time were living in adultery. Some others needed
warning in regard to other sins. The Lord wanted me to preach to these
people showing them where they stood; but, because of my sympathy for them,
I did not want to handle the subject. The I ord reminded me that I had
promised to preach his Word on any subject. "Yes, Lord," said I, "but I
sympathize so with these people! I would rather be whipped from head to
foot than to preach on this subject at this time." I preached, talking
first on one subject and then another, and not coming to anything definite,
entirely failing to give them that portion of the Word that they so much
needed.
That night I took very sick. It seemed that I should die. I did not know
what was the matter. I asked the Lord why I was suffering so; and he
reminded me that I had said that I would rather be whipped from head to
foot than to preach on the subject he had given me, and that now the
whipping had come. When God administers correction, he always does a
thorough work. I begged earnestly that he would take his hand off,
promising him faithfully that I would never grieve him in that way any
more; but I saw that I lacked sufficient Holy Ghost boldness to carry out
my decision if I continued to sympathize with those for whom the message
was intended. So I asked the Lord earnestly for help, telling him that if
he wanted to use me in dissecting, he must give me the ability. The lesson
has never had to be repeated.
During my earlier ministry an incident occurred which to some might seem
amusing; but which to me furnished an excellent spiritual illustration. A
class-leader of the M. E. South denomination came a number of miles across
the country to take me to a certain place to help in a meeting. We had to
ford the Gasconade river. It was winter, and the ice was frozen thick.
Before we reached the river, some men had cut a road through the ice, so
that people could cross on horseback. As we rode out into the stream the
flowing water seemed to affect me strangely. It seemed to me that the
brother who was with me was trying to pull me off of the horse and drown
me. I said, "Don't, don't, it is all I can do to stay on now." When we
reached the other side, the brother broke into a hearty laugh: "Sister
Cole, did you think I was trying to drown you? I saw that the water made
you dizzy, and that you were about to fall off the horse. It was all I
could do to keep you from drowning."
Many times since then I have thought of this incident, as an illustration
of a certain spiritual condition. When a person gets somewhat cold
spiritually, the doctrines of the church become indistinct, and,
spiritually speaking, his head begins to swim. At such a time he is likely
to think that those who are endeavoring to help him out of his difficulties
are trying to drown him; that they are in spiritual trouble themselves and
that they are trying to pull him into the same difficulty.
At another time I was going to a meeting near the place of which I have
just told you, and had to cross the same river. It was earlier in the fall;
and the Gasconade, although badly swollen, had not yet frozen. The boy who
was with me, feared that the river was too high for fording, and asked what
we should do. As the appointment had already been made for me, I feared
that the people would be disappointed and told him we would better go
across if we could. "Shall I go across first and see how deep the water
is?" he asked. I told him I thought that would be the better way. He found
the water to be deep enough to swim our horses, but thought that we might
get across, although we would risk our lives in the attempt. He said that
if I wanted to run the risk, he was willing. God protected us and we
reached the other side in safety.
The young man said to some of his friends afterwards, that he was afraid we
would both drown, but that he would not let a woman back him out. "I knew,"
said he "that if she drowned, she would be saved; but that if I drowned, I
should be lost." I certainly appreciated his generosity in risking his life
to help me.
While holding meetings in that neighborhood, this same young man and his
brother, although unsaved, befriended me in every way possible, because
they knew that I had come there to do the people good. Their sisters, who
professed religion, also manifested great friendliness for me. At one time
when some sectarian holiness fighters tried to shut me out of the
schoolhouse, the two brothers defended me like lawyers, won the case, and
secured the use of the house for as long as I desired to hold meetings.
Whenever I needed a conveyance, I had only to call on these young men.
I met a brother young in the ministry who had a very clear definite
experience of justification and sanctification, and who had had a very
definite call. He had had, however, but very little experience in tests and
trials, and was therefore not qualified to be the blessing to young
converts or to young workers that he might have been. As he had been so
victorious in his religious experience, he thought that trials and tests
were a sign of weakness, and that those who had them were spiritual
weaklings. Whenever a young convert or worker had a test or a trial of
faith, and needed special help or encouragement, he would think, "Oh, well
it isn't worth while to bother with him; he doesn't amount to much anyway.
He will not stand, and if he does, he won't ever be very useful in the
Lord's cause. He is not worthy of any attention."
God let this brother go through deep waters. He had a severe test; and when
he came through, his compassion was much increased, and his care and
consideration for the young converts and those in trouble was all that
could be desired. He did not find any one then unworthy his consideration.
He had learned that every soul worth Christ's dying for, is worth all the
effort we can make, either for its deliverance or its establishment. Well
did the Psalmist say, "When I was in trouble thou hast enlarged my steps."
The Psalmist got the enlargement right in the trial, just as we often do.
Much of our development is obtained in the furnace of trial; in fact, I
believe most of it. Let us be thankful, therefore, for the dispensation of
God's grace, whether it be bestowed by trial or in sunshine; whether it
comes in storm or in calm, knowing that God allows all for our highest
good.
Quite early in our evangelistic labors my brother saw that I had been
leaning too much on him. Frequently when God wanted me to deliver a
message, I would hold back and let my brother preach instead. I was not
getting the experience I should, nor being as useful in the Lord's work as
I might. My brother thought that if he should leave me to work alone for a
time, the Lord would have a chance to help me more. He therefore began
leaving me to hold meetings alone for weeks at a time, while he held
services in some nearby neighborhood. Naturally, I felt somewhat fearful
about being left to carry on the work alone; but the Lord helped me and
enabled me to hold a number of good successful meetings.
At one of these meetings God had been answering prayer and conviction was
falling heavily upon the people. The whole neighborhood seemed stirred, and
crowds were at the altar. Fathers and mothers came seeking salvation. A
few, however, among them a Campbellite minister, came with the intention of
causing trouble. He wanted a chance, he said to tell the people how to find
Jesus. I asked him what he would tell them. "Obey the commendments." "What
commandments?" "Join the church and be baptized." "If you have a message
from God," said I, "we will hear it; but, if you have not, we will not hear
it. Souls are at the altar and their eternal interests are at stake. This
is too serious a time to deliver a message not from God." He arose and went
out, accompanied by the man who had come with him. When the sinners laughed
at him, he said, "If you had had such hot testimonies thrown into your
faces, you would have left too." When this same minister came to another
meeting to disturb, God got hold of him and brought him to the altar. I
don't think he got an experience, but he made no more attempts to disturb
the meeting.
Every time the enemy undertook to hinder the work, God marvelously helped
us. At one time a certain minister came to try to look me out of
countenance while I was preaching. His plan was to confuse me so that I
could not preach. The enemy knew that if I became the least bit confused, I
would stammer so that I could hardly talk. God was present to help me. He
so confounded the man that before the service was over, his head went down
and I had no more trouble with him.
At different times I held meetings of three or four week's duration,
preaching twice every day and three times on Sunday. I had no help in the
preaching, and but very little at the altar service. There were many people
at the altar seeking God and the work was very heavy. The Lord wonderfully
sustained me. The fact that I went through such fatiguing experiences as
these, laboring sometimes far into the night, shows how wonderfully God had
healed me, and how he was sustaining me in my work.
Experience alone will show how much the dear Lord can help us physically as
well as spiritually if we but trust him. Unbelief and doubts hinder God
from being to us our sufficiency at all times and under all circumstances.
Faith will take hold of God for things beyond the comprehension of our
natural minds. The Word says, "All things are possible with God"; "All
things are possible to him that believeth." As we trust in the Lord, he
will honor our faith and give us the desire of our hearts.