The following incident is recorded as a proof of the way in which God honors His own word, and also with the hope that it may encourage christian workers to labor on patiently.
In a country village some fifty miles from London lived H., a man whose openly profane, drunken life made him the terror of his neighbors. He was a laborer, and his wife went out to the villages around as a charwoman. A christian lady, for whom Mrs. H. was in the habit of working, soon learned her pitiful story of privation and misery, and cruel usage from her husband. She sought to comfort and help her, and at last the poor woman began to feel that there might be hope even for her husband, and often entreated the lady to go to their humble home, and speak to him as she had spoken to her. For some time the lady was unable to go, until one day, when Mrs. H. went as usual to her work, she told the lady that her husband was so ill he was obliged to keep his bed, and “What I shall do now I don’t know,” said the poor woman, sobbing, “for his temper is dreadful,” and again she entreated that one visit might be paid to the sick man.
The promise to call and see him was given, though reluctantly, for H.’s violence was so well known that the lady did not feel at all safe in going alone to his house. Having promised to visit him, however, she one morning made her way to the cottage, knocked several times, and, receiving no answer, at last opened the door. The one room, which formed the ground floor of the cottage, was empty, so the visitor guessed at once that Mrs. H. was away at work, and the sick man alone. Not knowing what to do, she stood some minutes waiting; then, going to the foot of the stairs, knocked again, but no answer came; then she spoke, but still no answer. What was she to do―go upstairs and perhaps face a furious man, or go home and wait for a better opportunity? No; she would not go away; so, lifting up her heart to the Lord, she slowly mounted the staircase, and entered the bed room only to find it empty. A feeling of terror came over her, and her first impulse was to turn, and rush downstairs, and out of the house: for what would H. say if he returned and found her there? For an instant fear prevailed; then, remembering that she had brought with her a large gospel text, with trembling fingers she fastened it up on the wall just opposite the foot of the bed―fastened it securely, spite of the terrified feeling that made her heart beat painfully; and then, having finished her task, she fled down the dark staircase and out of the house as quickly as possible.
A few days afterward Mrs. H. came up to see her, and her first words were, “Oh, ma’am, did you put up that text?” Then she told how that, on the morning after Mrs. H.’s visit, she had been awakened by her husband shaking her, and asking, as he pointed to the wall, where that came from. She looked, and, when she saw the blessed words of God’s love to sinners, in her surprise she said, “The Lord must have put it there; I didn’t; and there’s been nobody here!”
There the text remained for three years or more. The lady left the neighborhood, and the event was almost forgotten by her, when one day she received a letter from Mrs. H., telling her that at last the text had done its work.
One day, “she wrote,” my husband said to me, Betty, read me that text. What does it say?
“God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
“Does it say that? Read it again.”
Mrs. H. read the verse again; a pause; and her husband said, “Read it once more.”
Once more the words of love fell upon his ear, and then he said, quietly, “That will do”; and, in a very different tone to that which he generally used, he added, “Now, you go down and sit by the fire, Betty; it’s cold up here, and I am all right now.”
That day was the beginning of a new life for poor H. “Her husband was so kind after that,” his wife said; “no more cursing or swearing, no more cruel words, but peace and happiness as the result of hearing and believing the message of God’s love.”
The letter went on to say that the husband was rejoicing in Christ, and that the writer felt she must find out where the lady lived who had so long before put up the text which God had used to save her husband. The reader may imagine the praise which the glad news called forth, and what an encouragement it was to the lady to go on seeking to do what little she could for the One who loved her and gave Himself for her. L.T.