p. 19 | R. M. KILGORE by R. M. Kilgore

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 14, 1903

R. M. KILGORE

By R. M. Kilgore

Georgia

BUFORD.— We rejoice in the privilege of again being out in the field with the tent, giving the message for this time to those who are unprepared for the events before us. Our tent is filled every night with attentive hearers, who have never heard the message, and we are giving the trumpet a certain sound. The Lord is blessing us in the work.

For half an hour each evening, before the regular preaching service, we meet in the large tent for prayer and praise, to which the people are invited. Last night the tent was well filled when we began this service. Here an opportunity is afforded the workers and others to seek the Lord in earnest prayer, to sing of his love, and to talk of his goodness and power. Those who hear the truth are moved when they see and hear what it has done for those who have it. The testimony of the helpers in the tent meetings has a good effect on all present, removes prejudice, inspires others with something besides a mere theory, and prepares hearts for the seeds of truth to be sown during the discourse which follows. When they hear us talk and sing of the saving power of the gospel in our own lives, it greatly strengthens their faith and confidence in the divine source and power of the word which we preach.

This is a manufacturing town of about five thousand. The prospects for great results are not encouraging, but they are in the hands of God, who giveth the increase.

The effects of the recent disastrous cyclone at Gainesville, fifteen miles from Buford, are not forgotten by the people here, who listen seriously to the evidence that we are approaching a storm of which the Gainesville horror was only a sample. It was awful to behold the ruin that storm left behind it. As I followed its track a few days later, and saw the uprooted trees, the ground covered with timbers and lumber shattered and splintered, and the houses and barns all leveled, in many cases not a vestige left to mark the place where they stood, I could but exclaim, “Destruction upon destruction is cried.” In one spot I stood and counted forty houses along the edge of the storm's track, either unroofed, turned partly around, or thrown from their foundations. In the coming storm “the cities of the nations” will fall, and “who shall be able to stand?”

Brother and Sister Shaeffer, and Sister Nellie Macmillan are helpers with me in the work here. Pray for us.