From Riches of Grace, by Enoch E. Byrum

Missionary Experiences in the West Indies

It was a warm, sultry morning late in December. The tropical air was scarcely fanned by a breeze. The missionary heard the peculiar tapping of the postman at the gate and hurried to get his morning mail.

He took the single letter that was handed him, and with a pleasant nod to the postman broke the seal as he stepped back to the veranda.

It was a long letter; so before reading it the man sank into a chair and glanced away to the gleaming sea; but meeting only the dazzling light there, he let his eyes rest upon the distant blue-green mountains for a moment. Then for some time he was occupied with the contents of this lengthy letter. It was written in a neat, scholarly manner, and the missionary noted it all as he read.

As he finished reading, a bright-faced woman came through the garden with a baby in her arms. “Come here, Patience,” he said; and his wife came quickly to him. “Here is a letter, Patience, that requires very careful answering. You know how busy I am; so I will commit this into your care. This person, a Mr. K. L. Jones, has asked many questions on the church and other points of doctrine.” He looked up as he spoke, and, finding the baby holding out its chubby arms to him, he took it and handed the letter to his wife.

Thoughtfully she took it and began reading. She loved to write letters, and this, she felt, was her special part of the work. But here she perceived she had a task that was very difficult; for the writer, evidently a scholar, had put forth a dozen numbered questions that must be carefully answered or this dear soul would be hindered from walking in the truth. God would give the needed wisdom, she knew, and she folded the letter back into its envelope and sat meditating on the different points he had raised. After a while, she asked, “How was the meeting last night?”

“Very good! Brother Owen spoke, and he did very well indeed. He used the text: ‘Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.’* (John 15:8) Several came forward for help afterwards.

“Ah, by the way, do you remember Sister Tilton? She was out to meeting last night.”

“Sister Tilton? She must be a new sister!”

“Ah, well, perhaps we did not tell you about her. This young girl came to meeting once some time ago, but afterwards became very ill. Her folks wanted the doctor for her, but she refused, not telling them why. But as her sickness increased, they became alarmed and insisted on calling the doctor. But the girl still refused the medicine. The doctor said she would probably not live. Her people begged to know the reason for her refusal to take the medicine, and she then said that she had been to the church of God meeting and had been made very happy, and that she believed if they would send for the elders of that church she should be healed. So word came, and Brother Owen went and anointed her in accordance with James 5:14-15. She has been getting better right along, and tonight she was at the meeting. She is saved now, and seems to have a clear experience.

“Thank God!” was the hearty response. “How I should have loved to be at the meeting last night! But, for the present, here is my meeting, and here is my work,” and, catching up the baby and waving the letter happily, she ran into the house at the sound of children’s voices within.

After the baby had been bathed and put to sleep, and the other children were sitting quietly at play on the side veranda, Sister Patience settled herself with her Bible at her husband’s desk to answer this important letter. Bowing her head she besought God for this soul and for wisdom to answer his difficult questions aright. Then taking up her pen, she began the letter. She was so glad to write; she loved writing; and the joy of it always seemed to get into the very letters and shine back from the pages. She addressed Mr. Jones cordially and kindly, and then took up the substance of the letter itself. In calling his attention to certain truths she referred to the Bible time after time, and again and again she prayed, for the letter seemed particularly important to her. Long she meditated over some of the knotty questions, endeavoring to find the wisest explanation. Sometimes she was interrupted by the children just when she most needed to be quiet; but she had learned that interruptions often come as blessings in disguise, for often God had given thoughts that were clearer and better when she had patiently gone to attend to the children, and when she was free to return to her work she had found an answer preparing itself in her mind without an effort on her part. Thus, after several hours of close application, she finished the letter and sent it off with a trusting spirit.

Sister Patience hoped to receive an answer to her letter immediately, but week after week passed, and there was no response. Dread began to creep upon her that this soul would not accept the truth. She took him earnestly to God many times and trusted that God would in some way overrule. However, as four months passed and she had not heard again, she gave him over as being no longer interested.

Then it was that one morning there came, to her surprise, a letter in the same fine handwriting. How cordially he wrote! He thanked her for answering the former letter so fully and said he had been searching and proving her answers by the Word during the long interval. And now there were still a few points remaining that he disagreed with her upon; again she found a few numbered questions to answer.

These, like the first, were very shrewd, puzzling questions, and only sagacious answers would satisfy the inquirer. Again Sister Patience labored over the letter with prayer and meditation. Then, leaning hard upon God, she wrote another encouraging letter, setting forth expositions of Scripture as clearly as possible. This time she invited her correspondent to a series of meetings they were expecting to hold during the coming winter season, when they hoped to have with them one or two ministers from America for a short period.

Again she waited long for an answer; but this time she did not give him up. Several months passed, and then one of the brethren, a colporteur, came. He had been away for several months, and Sister Patience was very glad to see him.

“And tell me now, Brother Delworth,” she said, after the first greetings were over, “where have you been all this time?”

“Mostly in Arendon and Lawney. I went from Panville to Mayfield, and from there to Paldings.”

“Paldings! You were at Paldings? Do you know one K. L. Jones?” asked Sister Patience with great interest.

“Ah, yes, a fine old gentleman, a schoolteacher. He is saved. I sold him some books. He seems very much interested. And, by the way, he asked me to say to you when I should see you that he hoped to come over to the meeting next month, when the brethren are here from America. You will hear from him soon.”

The time was drawing near for the coming of the brethren from America. Arrangements had been made for a meeting during their stay, which would be only for a few days. And then one day a letter came from Brother Jones inquiring as to the date of the meeting, and saying that if possible he should like to attend it. So again Sister Patience wrote him, urging him to be at the meeting, if possible.

Thus it was that during the exciting days of the meeting, when many from different parts of the country had gathered in to meet the brethren from America in this meeting, Sister Patience first met Brother Jones. One morning before meeting-time, she was passing through the little sitting-room in her home, when she noticed a fine-looking native man of venerable appearance sitting at one side of the room. People were all about him, but he was looking over some tracts that had been handed him. Making her way to him, she said, “Good morning, Brother, I have not met you before, have I?”

“Ah, no,” he said, and, quickly rising, he gave her a courteous bow. “Can this be Sister Patience? My name is K. L. Jones, of Paldings.”

“How glad I am to meet you!” she replied. And then followed an animated conversation in which she was able to recognize and admire the fine qualities of his matured mind. Finally he expressed the desire to speak with the foreign brethren himself, and so an audience was arranged for him after the next service. Then it was, Sister Patience learned afterwards, that Brother Jones inquired deeply into the subjects of sanctification and baptism. Later in the day it was announced that there would be a baptismal service early the next morning to accommodate Brother Jones, who was to return home by an early train.

Some years have passed since then. God has wonderfully used the dear old brother, and a congregation has been raised up about him, who look up to him as their pastor.

These are backward mountain people where he has labored, yet such has been his patience and faithfulness and love that they have become established in holiness and truth. Brother Jones, as we call him, is becoming feeble now, but he is still standing faithful as the shepherd of this little flock, faithful unto death.

Does it pay to use patience and prayer when dealing with precious souls? Ah, yes; eternity alone can tell all that it means.