Don’t Wait Any Longer by C. P. A. W.

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 31, 1871

“Don’t Wait Any Longer.”

By C. P. A. W.

The late article from Bro. White, thus headed, is looking up at me. I have read it with regret not because the little “paster” reproves me, but because so much valuable time and energy must be given to such appeals. Because there is so much of unfaithfulness and neglect that calls for them; and because such a chapter in my life spreads itself before me and says in unmistakable tones, Give your experience to the erring. Urge them to profit by it ere a like experience teaches them the right.

Can I hesitate with the thought that I may save one heart from anguish?

Two years since, my husband became interested in setting apart a portion of his earnings for the cause of God. In his heart he proposed to devote one-tenth to what he considered “Systematic Benevolence.” The sad mistake, so often made, the failing to first lay aside the tenth, soon brought us indebted beyond what we fully realized. Last January so fully did we awaken to the state of affairs that we determined to move in that way no longer. In truth, we made an effort to make the present right, but alas for the past; we left that for the future to take care of. Early in the spring, after a winter with little employment, he said, “I think we had better take money from the bank and straighten that up.” We had been talking of the sacred debt.

At this point, dear reader, I would gladly pause never to show you my unfaithfulness. Then comes the thought, I may help some one. If I only can, how sweet a thing it will be—worth all the effort I make—all the crucifying of cherished self.

Clear, earnest eyes were looking into mine as the honest words were spoken. I marvel now that I did not better read the light beaming from them. I marvel that in my “prudent” overcarefulness for the things that perish with the using, I said, “Better wait, I should think, until something comes in that is paying less interest.” Then I held up the prospect of a sum of money that would probably soon be paid us, also of the work soon to fill the bright spring days, and make everything right. I made it look right, as I thought, to myself and to him.

Days passed on. The morning of the last of March gave to our home a great flood of sunshine. Friday morning. A busy day I would have making ready for the coming Sabbath. Night would bring him from the hurrying city to quiet rest. How I always did like to look through the day, Friday morning, to the peaceful Sabbath to be enjoyed together. Perhaps I prized it more highly because for years I was alone in my faith.

Friday morning in the sunshine. Three hours he had been gone out from home. Three little busy hours—and then there came a man, my husband’s friend, with face all full of yearning pity. He looked as if he longed to shield me some way, and yet was powerless. I could not understand; it seemed so strange. At last I knew the fearful truth. He came for me, hoping that the dear life I thought such refuge for me might be spared until I once more gained his side. I thought if God in all his mercy would but once more let me see his eyes look into mine and once more let me hear one whispered word of love, I could endure, could bow in sad submission to the sovereign will. My longing heart was granted its desire. I found the speaking eyes ready to open for me. I heard the words I hungered for.

Six months have passed since then, six months this very morning, and still the precious privilege is mine. But he, dear soul, is helpless still. The long, bright spring time, the sunny summer days, and now the passing autumn, all powerless to call him forth. The hands I trusted in are utterly helpless. How plainly I have seen the wrong of waiting to do in the future what should be done in the present.

Reader, do you wonder if still we wait? If still the hoarded fund remains to gather interest for a “rainy day”? In the first thick darkness of the fearful storm that burst upon me, without a thought for “interest,” I drew the needed sum and made the matter right. Then I neared the bed whereon they laid my treasured one and told him what was done. For my reward I had one long sweet look of satisfaction. Think not that this one lesson in faithfulness is all that those six months have taught me, as we have sought to follow on and draw our strength continually from the one Source of strength and joy, the way has grown so plain, so full of light, that the message of the third angel has for us a certain sound. We are not content with heeding it ourselves; we long to entreat others to heed it too, and heed it in such a way that they will bring no shadow of dishonor upon the cause of God; that they will not add to the cares of those upon whom the burden of the mighty work is laid; that they will not let the widows and orphaned ones wait in vain; and that they will not let hungry eyes watch for heart food that fails to come.

If to the brothers and sisters in Christ, the suffering look in vain what a fearful record there is: We must be faithful in these things if we would have the fullness of the blessing. C. P. A. W. New Bedford, Mass.