A young girl lay lonely and depressed on her couch. She was a sufferer from serious and complicated diseases, and, although very upright, very thoughtful, and intelligent, had continued until lately, a stranger to the power of divine grace. A near and dear friend had been the means of pointing her to Christ and she had found peace. Henceforth her life was filled with a new light, brightened by new pleasures; and, with the eager yearning of a newly converted soul, she longed to lead others to Christ. Fain would she have gone to engage in active service on behalf of her Saviour, but alas! she was a helpless invalid, and as such, doomed to perpetual inaction. She could sit and work with her fingers, or write, but she could not move from place to place without the aid of others.
Here, then, was a cross to bear—heavy, indeed. Longing to do good to others, and yet to be doomed to remain inactive—cut off from all opportunities of active work—seemed too great a trial of faith and patience. And as she noticed how some other people—strong, active, and gifted passed by all opportunities of doing good, seeking only their own pleasure, it seemed harder than she could bear. At times she sought to question God’s wisdom in thus afflicting her, and would tearfully ask why He had thus dealt with her. It was in such a mood as this that she now lay, tearful and deponding, yearning, O, so vainly, for something to do for the Master.
Just at this juncture, a knock was heard at the door, followed by the entrance of a visitor.
“Ah, Mrs. Williams! I am so glad to see you! I am so lonely!” was Maggie’s first exclamation.
“What! tears? What is the meaning of those tears? Are you crying as you count up your mercies, Maggie?”
“No. Mrs. Williams. Mercies! It seems to me sometimes as if I had far more trials than mercies. I would fain do something for Jesus, but I cannot. See, here I am chained to my couch, while many others, in the full flush of strength and health, care nothing at all about working for the Lord.”
“‘Thou didst well that it was in thine heart.’ Was not this commendation given to David in response to his desire to build the house of God, a sacred privilege which, however, he was not permitted to enjoy? So, Maggie, God says to you.
Mrs. Williams’ soothing words fell like oil upon the troubled waters of Maggie’s mind. Yes, truly, God knew that it was in her heart to do good; and knowing this, would He not accept the desire? Still—still— it was hard to sit still, in enforced seclusion and pain, at twenty, the age of exuberant youthfulness, and do nothing!
“Stay,” said Mrs. Williams, “the mail bears many missives of love and affection to thousands of homes and hearts. Could you not use this agency for doing good?”
“How?” questioned the invalid, looking up, surprised.
“In this way: You know some to whom a letter, or a leaflet, or a tract, would be a blessing. Send an affectionate, faithful letter to an unsaved friend, giving warning of judgment which lies ahead, and of the way of escape through Christ. Send a tract to a poor, tired child of God. Send a rousing, earnest appeal to one who may be indifferent or careless. And a tract, with directions as to the way of salvation, to any who may be awakened or anxious about their soul. Thus you will work for the Lord as truly, and possibly more successfully, than if you were working in a more prominent way. I earnestly counsel you to adopt this plan.”
“Do you really think that I shall succeed in doing anyone good in this way?”
“I do indeed. You are told to ‘sow beside all waters,’ and the ministry of tracts and letters is so unobtrusive, so secret, and yet so comprehensive and far-reaching, that Christians might do a vast amount of good in this way, if they would only lend their energies to the work. As a special department in Christian work, it is too much neglected. I am sure more souls might be won for Christ, and more wavering, anxious ones led to decide aright, if this way were only made use of to the extent which it might be, and no one can be the instrument of blessing to others, without receiving blessing themselves.”
Maggie said no more. To the young girl’s soul the advice of her friend came as a direct answer to her yearning for some path of usefulness, and, with “much prayer” for wisdom and guidance, she began her work.
We shall not quote her letters, nor the blessed results which she was allowed to know about, but the coming “day” will reveal how much honor and glory was brought to the Lord through her quiet, faithful labor for Him.