THE KING’S BUSINESS TSi@Lonely Çross I n Km® Land
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By WALTER B. WILLIAMS
TT stands in front of a War King’s house 1 in a dense African jungle in the heart of the Kroo Man’s Land. One lonely Cross dominating the- little settlement! Gone are the. people’s ju-jus, gone their country med icine, gone their devil worship ! The blood of Christ has cleansed an entire town—the Spirit of God has assumed His sovereignty there—the Cross of Christ in silent majesty looms up before the people, unceasing reminder of the One Who draws all men unto Himself. That lonely Cross! How it thrilled the weary missionary as it met his eyes on emerging from the bush! For hours he had trodden that narrow trail, up hill and down, through swamp; vege tation on either hand so dense no glimpse of the sky could be caught. But the toils of the road seemed nothing when he came to the end and saw the CROSS. For several years a heavy burden had lain upon his heart—the salvation of this special tribe. Night after night he had risen from a sleepless bed, driven to his knees in strong pleading for their souls. But the winter was past, the summer was ended, and they were not saved. And they seemed more utterly impervious to the Gos pel than ever. But God was at work. “Is there any thing too hard for the Lord?” again and again rebukes our faltering faith. One night while the missionary miles away was on his knees, a young woman in this bush town dreamed that God spdke to her and told her she must call to her people to put away ju-jus and every dirty thing and hold God. She awoke, and with the unquestioning simplicity of a child began to give her mes sage. At first disregarded, the word finally began to catch her hearers and God’s Spirit took mighty hold. Ju-jus were cast aside, country medicine dug up from all the devil rocks around, and a rude Cross reared in
the place of power before the War King’s house. What a service followed the missionary’s -arrival! Impassioned preaching, Spirit- controlled testimony, shouts of deliverance» songs of praise! Oh, how God was mag nified; how Christ was exalted, how the Holy Ghost shook the worshippers. ’Twas an hour worthy to crown a lifetime of effort, a foretaste of the “new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness.” The work was conceived and wrought in prayer and it is going gloriously on. Already the fire has spread to an adjacent town a hundred times larger than this first one, and the head man there is saying, not scoffingly but with, wistful solemnity, “Almost.thou persuadest me to be a Chris tian. He finds it not hard to 'give up his ju-jus but' his many wives are many chains holding him back from God. Brethren, pray for him. If we win him, his whole town will follow. They are building a church for them selves, back there in the bush, and the mis sion has placed in their midst a Kroo preacher—one who has stood the test. For years he has preached Christ and lived the Gospel of a clean life in his native town, without one cent of pay. Four times he has suffered persecution from his heathen townspeople, who have four times flogged him, broken down his house, stolen his goods and spoiled his farm. Now at our summons he comes to live in this lonely bush Settlement, to shepherd this little flock. And each week a band of young lads from our central station goes up there with Berean Leaf Clusters and Lesson Picture Cards to gather the children into Sunday schools and teach them the word of God. Under the shadow of that lonely Cross they preach a risen Lord, Who is prepar ing for Himself a people “strong to suffer, willing to serve.”
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