A Footstool in Heaven?

My mother was born in a small town in Germany. As a child she was brought up in the popular religion of the country, which impressed upon her the fact that she was a sinner.

Often as a child, Mother would pray, “Lord, make me Your footstool in heaven but don’t cast me down to hell.”

She always longed for a real sense of peace, but the years went by and she did not find it. In her twenties, she was invited by a school friend to move to America. She got a job as a stewardess on an ocean liner, and soon found herself in Boston.

Still the search in her heart went on. Crossing the ocean had not changed her, nor did her marriage, nor yet another move to California to live. She continued to pray, “Lord, make me Your footstool in heaven!” Still she was conscious of a dreadful fear that He might reject her at the last.

One day Mother was hanging out clothes and singing in German. Her surprised neighbor called to Mother in German, and a warm friendship was begun. As they talked, the neighbor said, “We’re Christians, and if you would like to come over and read the Bible with us we’d sure like that.”

Soon the Bible study with her neighbors grew to be a vital part of Mother’s life. But one day as they were sitting around the table with the Bible open, Mother shut the Book hard and said, “It’s no use to go on. I’m such a sinner.”

The neighbor replied, “How wonderful!”

Mother exclaimed, “How can you say that? If you only knew how I suffer!”

Then how happy her Christian neighbor was to tell her again of the One who has finished the work of salvation for sinners and now says, “Come.”

This was what Mother was looking for; this was the answer to her halfway-around-the-world search. She was ready to go on her knees that afternoon and accept the Lord Jesus as her Saviour. But―a friend came by and said, “Come with us for a little drive.”

Taken by surprise, Mother went. As she sat in the car she just groaned in her heart and prayed, “Lord, please bring me home in safety so that I can have the opportunity once again to come to You and be saved.”

The Lord did bring her home again, and she wasted no time before she came to the Lord Jesus and knew that He had received her. The search was ended; there was peace in her heart―and she prayed no more to be a footstool in heaven. She had learned that “as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name” (John 1:12). Not a footstool, but a child of God at home in the Father’s house was to be her portion forever.

A Jew’s Faith

I was brought up a Jew and taught to observe the ceremonies and rites of Judaism. When I grew up, I became friendly with some atheists and began to believe that they were right in claiming that there is no God.

While I was still outwardly conforming to the ritual of the synagogue worship, skepticism was undermining my belief, and I was beginning to lose faith in God’s revelation.

At this time God began to work with me in a special way. Even then His unseen hand was guiding, and He brought me into contact with a godly Christian man.

I soon knew that this man had something about which I knew nothing. It was not so much what he said as his reality and his godly walk that impressed me. What surprised me most of all was to see a man delighting in the One whose name I despised and blasphemed.

Seeking to follow in this Christian’s footsteps, I began to pray and read my Bible. I became a teacher in a Sabbath school, and very devoutly followed the Jew’s religion.

I vainly imagined that what faith in the despised Nazarene could procure for a Gentile, Judaism could surely give to a member of Jehovah’s chosen race. I did not know the scripture which thunders out in unmistakable language: “ALL OUR RIGHTEOUSNESSES ARE AS FILTHY RAGS” (Isaiah 64:6).

One Sunday afternoon I took a walk into the city. There I saw and joined a crowd surrounding three men who were singing on the street corner. They were just singing the words, “Whosoever will may come.” That word “whosoever” stuck to me.

When the singing was over, the three friends asked the bystanders to follow them to a meeting room. Among others, I was invited by one of the preachers, but declined. Thereupon he looked me in the face and asked me, “Are you saved?”

I replied, “Yes, but not in your way.”

He replied: “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other Name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

I began to argue with him, but he quietly answered, “Friend, in a little while I will be praying for you.”

Not long afterward, his prayer was answered. God showed me my real condition before Him. I learned that I was a sinner against God who is “of purer eyes than to behold iniquity.”

I was stripped of my self-righteousness, leaving behind a dismal void and an accusing conscience. Sin, my sin, was making life a burden and existence a misery.

“The pains of hell got hold upon me; I found trouble and sorrow.”

The thought came to me with awful intensity, “Where shall I flee for refuge?” Everything in which I had trusted proved insufficient to bear the weight of my guilty soul. My friend, whose life had so impressed me, began to tell me at this time of the Lord Jesus, though he was utterly unaware that I was anxious about my soul. I did not argue this time, and soon learned that “salvation is of the Lord.” I learned that, if I were ever to be saved, it must be by faith in the Lord Jesus, and by Him alone.

At last, one afternoon I came to Jesus as I was. I rested my weary soul on Him who died for me on Calvary’s cross. From that moment I knew that I was one of the WHOSOEVERS. I believed in Him and my sins were forgiven for His name’s sake.

Now my heart rejoices in His Word, knowing, as I could not before, that my “transgression is forgiven” and my “sin is covered” in His precious blood (Psalm 32:1).