IT was at the age of eleven that I became converted. I had one night been to a meeting at H—, addressed by a Mr. B—, and some words which he spoke greatly impressed me. I went home from that meeting in a different state of mind, but not saved. I went to bed, and to sleep. I slept with my elder sister at the time.
In the night I awoke, to find the bed occupied only by myself. Then it struck me. Had Jesus really come and left me behind? O, how miserable I felt! I listened for the sound of voices (for my mother and sisters were Christians). But I could hear nothing, all was dark and still. I went out to the landing on the stairs and listened. Hark! was that not my mother’s voice? O! yes, it was.
I went into my room, and, falling on my knees, I asked God to forgive me, and to make me His little child. And He did. I heartily thank God that Jesus did not come then. But I am willing now to go whenever it is His will.
“Yet a little while and He that shall come will come, and will not tarry.” Heb. 10:37.
ML 12/26/1937