AUGUST, 1946
KB 329
said a word. We sobbed a little, and I learned that God can interpret tears, and that sometimes they mean more to Him than words. The little service ended, and I went away to work. It seemed to me that the whole world was new and wonder ful. Though I did not know the poet’s words then, their sentiment was ring ing in my heart:
Lessons in Comfort About six weeks later, at that same breakfast table, my mother prayed. I shall never forget that occasion. Later, while I was in a town in east ern Ontario, I received a telegram stating that my mother had died. I hastened home, scarcely knowing what to expect. By that time I knew something at least about the truth of 2 Corinthians 1:3, 4, but through my mother’s pass ing I was to learn a great deal more. The portion reads: “Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” When I arrived at home, . a good woman met me at the door. She said, “Peter, your mother went very sudden ly, but she left a special word for you. She asked me to tell you that the gates were ajar and that Jesus was standing waiting to receive her spirit.” What a testimony! What a solace to the heart of a boy whose best friend on earth was gone! My dear little mother was “absent from the body, at home with the Lord.” I was glad in deed that He had enabled me to speak for Him to those I loved. The thought of His faithfulness comforted me. But I was to learn, too, that God de sired to use this Experience as a means of preparing me to “comfort them which are in any trouble.” Many inci dents could be given, but I mention one that is fairly recent. A few years ago, I was traveling through North Carolina. Our train stopped at a station, and I saw a young fellow who, was weeping get on board. I thought some loved one was waving good-by to him from the plat form, but there was no one there. The lad came into the car and took a seat opposite me. Every little while he would put his head down and I knew he was struggling with emotion. Quietly I moved across the aisle and sat down beside him. “Son,” I said, “you seem to have some trouble. Maybe I can help you.” He looked at me for a moment, then put his hand in his pocket and drew out a small piece of yellow paper. The message was brief; I read it at a glance: “Mother died last night.” I said, “I know how you feel. I had a telegram just like that forty-five years ago. Mine came to me in a blacksmith shop.” “Why, isn’t that strange—I got mine in a machine shop!” There was a fellow feeling between us right away. "Was your mother a Christian?” I asked him. ( Continued on Page 336 )
God answered the prayer of that hymn and spoke to me then and there. I do not remember anything else about the meeting except the song, but standing there in the night, I accepted Christ as my Saviour. That was the greatest moment of my life. I have had thousands of blessings since. My heart is full of assurance and glad ness now, and I know that I shall be with Christ throughout eternity. But the beginning of it all was the vision of the Cross and the realization that Jesus, the Man of Sorrows, died for me. That night I determined one thing, that I would tell my mother what had happened to me. Taught to Witness Because the wagon works where I had been employed was no longer in operation, I had gone to the little town of Dresden and obtained a position in a jobbing shop. The new work required that I report for duty very early, but my mother was always up before I was, ready to get my breakfast. As she moved about the kitchen on that memorable morning after the street meeting, I tried to get her atten tion. Invariably she would turn her back and busy herself with something at the stove or the table. I thought she did not want to hear me. When the meal was ready, my younger brother and I drew our chairs to the table. At that moment I was faced with a problem that had never before occur red to me. Why, I realized suddenly, we must thank God for His goodness! When I saw my brother start to'eat, I shouted, “Hold on, brother! We’re go ing to pray this morning.’’ The reason I spoke so loudly was that it took a lot of effort to utter those words. My brother thought I had gone crazy. He sat and stared at me. Mother began to cry. I lost my appe tite and felt sure I had ruined every thing. Rising to leave the table, I felt my mother’s small rough hands on my shoulders. She was a Scotch woman, a widow, and she had worked hard all her life. "My boy,” she told me, "you had better stay right where you are for a few minutes..” She left the room and in a few mo ments she returned with a little book in her hands, with a brass band and clasp on it. Carefully she undid the fastening and laid the book beside me. "You had better read a little out of this,” she said, “and pray before you go to work each morning.” At that time my mother was not a professing Christian, but she did have good Scotch common sense. When I had read, we all knelt down to pray. I have been in some great prayer meetings in the past sixty years, but none greater than the one that was held around that breakfast table. I don’t know that any one of us
THE COMFORTER "It is expedient for you That I should go away." What strange, perplexing words were these For Christ the Lord to say To that small helpless flock of His, So soon to be bereft Of Him who daily walked with them. Only eleven left To spread abroad through all the world The knowledge of His Word. So small a flock, so large a task! Beloved, when our Lord Came from His ivory palaces And set aside His crown. For three and thirty years He laid His omnipresence down. Could He at one time be with all Wherever they might roam? But when the Comforter was come He made each heart His home. Yea, L.ord, it was expedient That Thou shouldst go away. So He, the mystical, the blest. Might come to earth to stay. O wondrous Trinity of God, The Father and the Son, The Holy Spirit — God com plete— The perfect Three in One! —MARTHA SNELL NICHOLSON
“Heaven above is softer blue, Earth around is sweeter green, Something lives in every hue Christless eyes have never seen. Birds with gladder songs o’erflow, Flowers with deeper beauty shine, Since I know as now I know, I am His and He is mine.” What was the reason for my great joy? The answer is simple. I had de clared myself a follower of Christ, and though the testimony had been halt ingly and I felt ineffectually given, He had been true to His Word and had honored His servant who had honored Him. It has been ever thus. I say it to the praise of the glory of His grace.
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