EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE.
We are glad to publish the following from a sister whose heart is ever touched by a request for prayer, and to whom many of the requests that come through the mail are referred for special attention by a small company of sisters who have had a remarkable experience in prayer:— Many earnest requests come to us week after week; such as, “Won’t you pray for me, that I may be well and able to care for my family?” “Won’t you pray for my loved ones at the noontide hour, that they may be converted?” Others say, “I have dear friends whom I long to have come into the light of truth.” In a recent number of the REVIEW there was a request made concerning a sister who had tuberculosis, saying, “I beg of you to remember her in prayer, that she may be restored, or perfectly satisfied.” This appeal brought me to Jesus in tears, asking him for a special comforting blessing to drop from the fountain of blessings to her. As I pray this noontide hour, the thought comes to me of how many of my sisters may at this very moment be looking up to Jesus, making requests for the same sick ones. Surely, angels are bearing tidings upward. I often wonder how many of our sisters are thoroughly in earnest concerning the observance of this hour. It is a call to us at an unseasonable time of the day; but the greater the difficulty, the more sure we are of a blessing. Some may be obliged to keep about their work, unable to spend even fifteen minutes in private devotion; but by practice I find that we may be able to raise our thoughts at this time, saying, “Lord, at this moment bend thine ear; listen to thy children everywhere who are now praying for the afflicted ones. Bless the workers. Instruct them how to write and comfort the afflicted ones.” The thought of hundreds uniting in prayer at this time floods my soul with joy. What a prayer-meeting! What grand possibilities are couched in our united prayers for one object! God grant that we may be very earnest, very definite. Let the troubles and sorrows of our sisters become our sorrows in very deed. There is not a soul but knows sorrow and grief and many a sore trial. Many of us have learned the lesson which causes us to praise God for our trials, because they have brought us nearer him. We ask for faith to be given; and troubles, trials, afflictions, bereavements, death, and losses are the food of faith. Had we none of these, how would we know that we were in the life of trust and faith? If we never had a pain or sorrow, we should soon forget that Jesus suffered for us. Sisters, let us take special pains to remember the noontide hour, that we may have one grand prayer-meeting every twenty-four hours for the sinful, sick, and discouraged who are brought to our notice. God has done wondrous things for me. He has taught me in the school of affliction every day, and I praise him for it. Many times he has healed me of sickness and delivered me from sore trial as I sought him earnestly in prayer. Oh, that we may all be schooled into a life of faith by prayer, and learn the secret of trusting God! As you have asked for my experience in the work of holding Bible readings with those who do not know the truth, I will tell you about it. Several years ago we moved into a large town, and rented a house of a sister in the church. She was wealthy, and the neighborhood was composed of what are usually termed aristocrats. Some of the neighbors became curious to know why she kept Saturday for the Sabbath, and were sufficiently interested to ask for Bible studies. Thinking that she was incompetent to conduct them, she called on me. I had not held many readings then, but told her I would do the best I could. For some time we met at her house two evenings each week, and three families of those who had made the request for the studies attended regularly. Just before the readings began, a poor widow with three daughters moved into a house across the street from this sister. The mother took in washings, the two oldest girls worked in a factory, and the youngest one helped at home. This woman got water at our sister’s well, and during a conversation was invited to the Bible readings. She came the very night that we began on the Sabbath question. She listened, spellbound, and it was interesting to watch her. Every little while she would see some objectionable point, and then, as if she thought that she had no right to speak in such a crowd, would settle back in her chair. She did this over and over again. We gave three readings on the Sabbath question, and passed on to other subjects. She continued to come; and when anything happened to prevent her from being at the regular service, she came to my house, and I gave her the reading there. When our circle broke up, she was the only one who accepted the truth. She was baptized, and joined the church. The others acknowledged the truth, and said that they had learned more from the Bible than ever before, but went on in their old ways. About a year later this widowed sister died. Not long after, her youngest daughter was converted, and she too now sleeps in Jesus. The other circumstance did not end so happily. While doing what I could to comfort the bereaved in a house of mourning, I made the acquaintance of a young married woman. We had little more than an introduction, however, and I did not meet her again until several weeks later, when the Methodists held a revival meeting in the city. The church was just across the street from our house, and I attended the meetings to see if there were any converted whom I thought might be reached with the truth. There were only two conversions after a six-weeks’ meeting, and one of them was this young woman. A few evenings later she came to my home, saying that she had decided to be a Christian, but that she did not know anything about the Bible, and, as she had heard that I sometimes gave Bible readings, had come to ask me for help. Of course I was more than glad to give it, and she came every day for a reading. I think I never saw one so hungry for the truth, and she accepted every point as fast as it came to her. I did not mention the Sabbath; but in two weeks from the time we began studying, she was keeping it. Her mother was a Methodist, and was so delighted over her daughter’s interest in religious subjects, that she invited me, with the other woman who had been converted, to her home. I held readings there for months, and the two women began keeping the Sabbath. They were faithful for several weeks, but finding it created opposition, they concluded to drop all. The young woman stood firm. Her mother turned persecutor, and she finally had to spend her Sabbaths at our house. The mother continued her persecutions, hid her Bible, and turned the young woman’s husband against her, and together they made life almost unendurable. But she continued firm, until my husband became ill, and we had to go South for the winter. When we returned, she had given up the truth. We have labored for her, and done all we could to reclaim her, but so far our efforts have been unavailing. She gave up the truth for the sake of peace, but her husband and mother were no better to her for so doing. She became reckless, went to dances, and finally Satan led her to break the seventh commandment. This troubled her greatly, and she confessed all to her husband, and told him that yielding what she knew to be truth was the secret of her ruin. He forgave her, but soon afterward secured a divorce, and left, taking her only child away from her. Of all her friends, I was the only one who would take her in when she fell, and she made her home with me until her mother, who had moved farther north, sent for her. The mother seemed very grateful to me for the interest I had taken in her daughter, but she knew what was the cause of her downfall, and secretly worked to make her daughter think I was her enemy. She finally succeeded, and for a year and a half I have not heard from the daughter, and do not even know where she is. She thinks I have turned against her. But though I can not get a letter to her, I am praying for her, and I believe God will hear my prayer. I often wonder why this has turned out as it has. I have thought perhaps there was some failure in my teaching, or she would not have given up so readily after I had gone. And yet, when I look back over the experience, I can not see where I could have done differently. God only knows how I love this woman, and I feel as Moses must have felt when he said, “Yet now if thou wilt forgive their sin—and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written.”