Until I was sixteen I was just a wild girl. I never read the Bible. I could not have told you who Jesus was. I knew there was a God, but nothing more. But one Sunday night I had such a longing to go to a gospel service, I said to my brother: “Oh, Sid, I feel as if I would like to go to service. Do come with me!”
“Why, Edie,” he laughed, “what has put that into your head?”
After a good deal of persuasion, my brother came with me to a large hall. We sat in the back row. My brother thought the preacher was never going to quit. It was all new to him too. He said: “If this is coming to service, I will never come again. I was silly to come.”
When at last the service ended, I said, “That made me uncomfortable!”
“Now, Edie, don’t you begin, for I have had enough. I’ll never come again,” said Sid.
“I won’t either!” I said.
I thought no more about it until the next Sunday, when again I felt that strange urge to go to the service. So I pleaded with my brother to go with me. It never occurred to me that I could go by myself.
At last he put on his jacket and came. We went to the same hall and sat in the same seats. The same thing happened. I felt so uncomfortable, and my brother was angry with himself for coming.
“I will never, never come again,” I said to him when at last it was over.
“You said that last week,” he replied, “but I know nothing nor nobody will get me to come again.”
Again I forgot about it all week until the time for the Sunday evening service came on—and again I felt that I must go. How I begged Sid to come with me! He did, but very unwillingly. We went to the same hall, and sat in the same seats.
As I sat there I knew I was a lost soul. Nobody had spoken to me personally, but I knew that if I died that night I would go straight to hell.
We went home, and my brother hung up his jacket, but I paced up and down our large kitchen with my coat still on. At last my brother came and said, “Whatever is the matter with you? Take your coat off and sit down.”
“Sid,” I said desperately, “I’ve got to see that man who preached tonight.”
“All right, Edie, I’ll go with you,” he replied. I never in all my life loved him as I did at that moment.
Together we returned to the hall just as the preacher was coming out. I went up to him and said, “Oh, sir, will you baptize me?” I thought baptism would save me!
The dear man looked at me, and then he spoke to me of the Saviour. For the first time I heard the story of Calvary. He told me of His love—how Jesus loved me.
“Oh, but I have not given Him a thought all my life! I have cared nothing for Him,” I said.
Very gently he replied, “My child, the Lord loves you and died for you.”
For ME! In my joy I just shook my brother and cried, “Sid! Sid! Listen to the good news!”
Then I asked the preacher, “What must I do?”
“I will come this minute!” And my first prayer was: “Lord, save me, a sinner; and save my brother too.”
I rose from my knees and the preacher said, “Have you trusted Him? Do you believe you are saved?”
“Why, of course! Didn’t He say, ‘Him that cometh’ ? And I have come!”
In my joy I ran all the way home with my brother. I burst in upon our astonished family and said: “I am saved! I have found Jesus Christ!”
I went everywhere telling people; I thought nobody knew the good news. I believe today as I believed then: if only people knew Christ they must love Him.
“But does it last?” someone may ask. Well, it is many years since I came to Christ. I can say from the depth of my heart that ever since I heard the wonderful message of God’s redeeming love it has been the joy of my life to tell others. There is no joy in the world like seeing the love of God transform lives as it transformed mine.
I have seen drunkards, gamblers, prostitutes, thieves—people of all kinds and conditions—come under its influence, and the result has been wonderful. The Lord Jesus does not reform their lives. He makes them all new. Wonderful Saviour! Saving all who will receive Him.
“If any man be in Christ,
he is a new creature:
old things are passed away;
behold, all things are become new.”