Highways of America

It was yet in her late twenties that she went to Los Angeles and labored faithfully until she was able to raise up a growing and prosperous work for the Lord; she was pastoring that work when an evangelist came along, and after holding a special meeting, voiced his desire to pastor there. She turned the work over to him and went on to Long Beach. She was a music teacher and could have in time, no doubt, found a number of children who desired to take lessons, but there was a scarcity of work just then, and people were slow to spend time and money for that which could wait. Then, too, it would have been hard to arrange time for her calling and spiritual work in the city.

She went to a place and secured a position as sales lady and shared a home with an older couple. In this way she was able to buy the seats necessary to seat the front of the house for worship. Then she began to feel that she did not have enough time for spiritual labor as she deemed necessary. She began to watch the ads in the newspaper, and one day found an ad for a laundress for two days a week. The place was in a very aristocratic section of the city where only the very rich people lived.

When she arrived at the lovely home, she went around to the side entrance for servants. The lady of the house came in, dressed in her finery, and talked to her. Faith said to the woman, “I saw your advertisement for a worker, and I have come to inquire about it.”

“But I want a laundress, and you are not a laundress.”

“Just try me for a week, and if you are not satisfied, you need not pay me.”

Of course nothing could be fairer, and so she was hired. So it was that Faith Stewart, music teacher and minister of the gospel and of the church of God for the gospel’s sake, settled down in the laundry room of the home of a millionaire. At the end of the first day, the lady of the home came in and looked at the ironed clothing and said nothing. The days spent under the strict supervision of her invalid mother had not been in vain, and her work proved satisfactory. She received two dollars a day and her carfare.

In her spare time, she called in the homes and worked faithfully in the interest of raising up a new congregation for the truth. The work was indeed blessed of God, and it began to grow. And also, problems began to show up. One day she spoke to one of the servants about a suffering family and their deep need. The lady of the house overheard and stopped to inquire about the case.

“Are they very poor?” she asked.

“They are destitute and have no way to help themselves,” replied Faith Stewart.

“Here is a check for fifty dollars, take this and buy what is really necessary for them.”

So she accepted the check and used it gladly for the needy people. From that time on her employer would often give her a check for ten dollars to help in the work. One day when she was down in the laundry, the woman and her daughter sent for her to come to the dining room at noon. They were eating in the lovely dining room, and she was pressed into eating with them. From that day, she was always sent to the dining room for the noonday meal.

Time went on, and one day the lady of the house came to her, saying, “I have found out that you are a laundress and more than a laundress. Here is one hundred dollars for you. You should be free to do the work that you are fitted for. When you have need, come to me for more.”

But that was something that Faith Stewart could not do. She did not come for more, but the little group grew and prospered spiritually.

She decided once, while there, that she would visit a certain congregation that had a sign over the door: “Church of God.” But she did not feel at home in the services and only stayed on in courtesy.

Then two people began to speak in a strange language, after which the leader said, “What a pity we have no interpreter, we have been praying for a long time that these brethren might have this gift, and now we have no one to interpret. Is there anyone here that can interpret for us?”

A young Chinese man arose and said, “I am Chinese, and I am not a Christian. I know what these people are saying. I can and I cannot interpret, for they are speaking in pure Chinese.”

“You say that you can and cannot. That is strange, what do you mean?”

“I can because I understand the language in which they speak. I cannot because, although I am not a Christian, I was reared in a good upright home, and I do not want to repeat what these men have said. Satan has deceived these men, and they are blaspheming God and do not know it.”

He sat down, and a silence fell over the audience because of the awful disclosure made by the visitor. Faith Stewart returned home glad that God had revealed the truth in this meeting to each honest heart.

The hardest kind of work in the ministry is to go out in a new field and pioneer, planting the new field with the precious seed. After the four years of labor in Colorado, she undertook and raised up a work both in Los Angeles and in Long Beach. It was in California that God answered in a definite way as to what He wanted her to do.

After this manuscript was ready for the publisher, we found several sheets of notes which, no doubt, were a part of the manuscript of the book she once wrote of her wonderful experiences in India. This book was never printed. What a pity that the miracles and answers to prayer should be lost. We insert the portion here in this part of the book before going further with the story as she told it more fully to me.

My Call to Foreign Work

From my childhood I clearly felt that God had His hand on me for some special work, but during those early years, I had no clear leadings as to just where He would have me go, nor in what line of work He wanted me to engage. But feeling the call of God on my heart as I did, caused me at an early age to consecrate myself wholly to His service. Having done that, I left my future entirely in His hands. This deep consciousness, however, that there was some special work for me to do, caused me often to pray that the dear Lord in some way would hinder me from making any plans for my life that could in the least interfere with His own plan for me; but that He would lead me with an unerring hand so that I would be unhindered when the time should come that I would know where He wanted me. And this prayer was certainly answered in a very clear way.

In the year of 1903, it was made clear to me by the Spirit of God that my work lay in a foreign field; and for some months following that revelation, I was very happy in the thought of someday helping to carry the gospel message to a people who were without any knowledge of Christ and His power to save the souls of men from sin.

However, as I received but little encouragement from God’s children, I began to doubt my call; and as a result of this, the sweet rest that had filled my soul was somewhat disturbed. Following this was a short season in which I felt myself shrinking and drawing back. I truly had a deep longing in my heart to fill perfectly my place in the body of Christ, and to let God’s full purpose for me be worked out in my life; but I felt the weight of the responsibility that would be mine if I took up a work in a foreign land, and felt entirely unable for it. This—so keenly feeling my lack of ability—together with the fact that others gave almost no encouragement, made it indeed hard.

Nevertheless, feeling sure the hand of God was upon me, I felt I must get the matter so definitely settled that I would not be moved from my call, or purpose to fill my place in life, by any opposition or discouragements that might come my way. I therefore decided to make this matter a subject of special prayer. Having made this decision, I purposed to spend the following Sunday in fasting and waiting on the Lord, thus seeking definitely for a clearer understanding of His will concerning me, and also for the needed grace to carry out fully His plans.

During that day, the dear Lord was very near and seemed to hourly deepen the conviction in my soul that I had not been mistaken in this matter, but that the divine call of God to foreign missionary work was on my heart, and that I must obey if I expected to keep His sweet approval on my life. As this conviction deepened, the struggle within my bosom became harder.

At last I left the room where I had been in prayer, and started walking to the seaside, a distance of about half a mile from there. I thought I might, by getting out with nature, be able to shake off some of my feelings. But I was soon aware of the fact that this could not easily be done. Although a struggle was going on within, my deepest desire truly was to know the mind of Christ in this matter. So, as I sat alone at the water’s edge, I cried out from the deep of my soul that God would come to my aid and help me once for all to settle the great question of my life’s work. Up to that time, I had not had the slightest idea as to which field the Lord was calling me, nor was my mind settled as to the exact line of work I should take up.

By the time I reached the seaside, darkness had closed in, shutting out the day; and as I sat thus in the darkness and quietness of late evening, my heart cried out that all confusion would be cleared away, and that I might have such a clear revelation of my future responsibilities and of God’s will for me, that I would have something to stand on in the future. As I sat thus in earnest prayer, suddenly out over the waters, and directly in front of me, appeared a great mass of little brown faces—faces that clearly spoke of deepest sorrow and suffering—and from beneath each little face were two little arms stretched out to me. I threw up my hands and covered my face to shut out this picture, but that was not possible, as what stood before me was a clear vision from God, and human power could not shut it out; but rather as I gazed upon the scene before me, it was burned indelibly into my very soul.

The pleading look in each pair of eyes, the sorrow portrayed in each little face, and the little brown arms so piteously outstretched towards me, spoke volumes to my heart. I knew that somewhere in God’s great harvest-field was a mass of helpless little ones pleading for someone to save them. And in that solemn hour, God, by His Spirit, made me to know that He was calling me to go forth to rescue them, and bring them into the fold of Christ, that He might be their loving Shepherd, too.

Sitting thus, gazing at the God-given vision before me, and wondering where the call came from, I cried out from the deep of my soul, “O God, where are these little ones?” Then just above the little faces, in clear, blazing letters, appeared these words: “India’s helpless little ones are calling you.” This swept away every doubt as to the certainty of my call, and also the line of work God had especially called me for. It was then that I cried out from a melted heart, “Amen, Lord, here am I; send me.” I returned to my room that night with a heavily-burdened, but peaceful heart, and a clear consciousness that God had put this special work on my heart. I knew I was called to rescue and care for some of India’s depressed little daughters.

Accordingly, I offered myself to the Church for that field. Again I met with nothing but discouragement. The only children’s work we had in India was an orphanage located at Lahore, in the northern part of India. Knowing my call was to children’s work, I fully expected to be sent there to help in that work. However, to my great disappointment, that institution closed down very soon after this. Then the brethren to whom I had spoken of my call said, “Can’t you now see that you are mistaken, as the only children’s work we had in India to which you could have gone, is now closed?” They were sincere in this, but my work had been made so clear to me, that I could not doubt. Thank God, it is our privilege to understand the Savior’s voice; and the call He had put upon my heart was now deep enough, and clear enough, that such things did not move me.

From that time on, I simply kept myself in readiness to go to India for any kind of work, believing that if I got there, God could and would in His own time work out His own plan for me, and lead me out into my life’s work after I reached there.

At times I wondered if I ever would get to go, as so many things came in the way to hinder me; nevertheless, I felt very satisfied and happy in my call. Year after year I was kept from going forth by the many obstacles that came in my way, and at times my heart grew restless under the burden. Sometimes I felt I could wait no longer. At one time, the Missionary Board decided to let me go to India and work with Mr. and Mrs. Tasker and Miss Josephine McCrie, who were at that time working in Lahore in general missionary work. Had I gone there, my work would have been among the women in their homes; but having waited so long, I was truly glad for the prospects of getting to my chosen field, although I knew very well that I would not be fully satisfied unless I had the privilege of working in a definite way among children. I, therefore, kept holding the matter before the Lord, asking Him in some way to open a door before me so I could go forth into the very work for which He had chosen me.

During this time of waiting, God was working in India. He had brought to some of our Indian brethren the knowledge of the terrible traffic in young girls that was being carried on. When they learned of the hundreds of innocent little ones who were being sold into dens of vice for a life of the most dreadful immoral slavery, and also of the precious little ones who were being dedicated into the Hindu Temples, to be victims of the most awful life of sin—slaves to the vile passions of the heathen priests, and the “holy” men who visited the shrines, their hearts were deeply stirred, and they felt that something must be done.

Accordingly, after consulting with some of the officials, they wrote to the Missionary Board and asked them if it would not be possible for them to send someone out to open up that special line of work. Their letters reached the Board shortly before I was to have sailed. Those on the Board at that time knew nothing of the burden I had carried so long for the children of India, as I had long since quit mentioning that part of my call to anyone but the Lord. But knowing I was the only one ready at that time to go to that field, they wrote to me, laying the great need before me, and asking if I would consider going there to take up that special line of work. Being fully persuaded in my own mind that this thing was of God, with joy I accepted the offer.

So at last, after nine years of waiting and testing, all of which was good for my soul, I sailed for India in October of 1913.

On the evening of my departure from the shores of America, and shortly before leaving the Missionary Home in New York City for the steamer, a sister minister said to me, “Sister Stewart, I am truly glad someone is going to take up that needy work, but I am certainly glad it is not me; for I would not want to be the one to go out there alone as you are, to pass through the things you must certainly pass through to open up a work like that.”

This, coming from whom it did, struck deeply into my heart, and for a few moments I wondered if I really was undertaking too much. My heart became greatly troubled. The enemy stood nearby at that time, trying to fill me with fears. He told me that I was taking a leap into the dark, and that never would I be able to undertake what was before me. I did not like this burden just as I was to start, so I quietly slipped out of the room and entered a large closet just off the bedroom, thinking I must have a few moments of prayer alone before going. Just as I fell on my knees in that closet, before I could frame one sentence of prayer, the dear Lord spoke to my troubled heart and said, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”* (Isaiah 41:10) Oh, bless the dear Lord! I was not going alone, neither would I have to labor alone. For He was going with me and was truly going to be a laborer with me. He had promised to strengthen me. He had promised to uphold me. He would guide me by His own dear hand! Why need I fear? And, praise the blessed Lord! Just as He thus spoke to me, all fears were swept away, and a deep calm filled my soul. I knew that I was going at His command, and now in a very definite way He had assured me of His presence going with me. The power and glory of the Divine Being filled me as I said the last farewells and left the shores of the homeland.

Although the years of service in dark India were well filled with times of testing—many heavy burdens having to be borne and many perplexing problems solved—yet I was always made conscious that I was not alone. Christ Jesus was my constant companion and full portion. He never failed me, neither was His arm ever too short to reach our need; but daily, throughout the years, He was to me, as well as to the others who joined in with me in that great work, a very present help in every time of need. He truly proved Himself to be a Father to the orphans; and as a Father, He supplied our every need spiritually, physically and temporally. For this reason I feel I owe it to Him to tell of some of His marvelous dealings with us and of the tender care He bestowed upon all those whom He entrusted to our care there. Truly my soul doth magnify His name for all His wonderful works toward us! Praise His dear Name.

Now, to pick up the thread of the story as she gave it to me, I shall have to repeat a few things.

Sowing, reaping, moving on to newer, harder fields, she labored on. But all this time, there burned in her heart a longing to go to the mission field, a longing and burden so keen that no amount of labor and sacrifice seemed to satisfy.

One night, quite late, with the weight of the burden on her soul for missions, and desiring to know and have a definite leading from God, she walked down alone to the beach. Here the restless waves beat upon the shore. No one shared the beauty of the night with her, and all about was quiet save the sound of the lapping of the restless waves as they rippled and flowed and the deadened sounds of darkness. She sat alone on the sandy beach looking out over the vast expanse of the waters and communing with God. In that hour she cried out to God in the deep of her heart to make His will definitely known to her. She felt that the place whereon she sat was holy ground and sacred, that surely this night she was alone with God. She looked at the moving waters in the darkness and the vaulted dome of the heavens, and God seemed very near.

That night was always outstanding to her. She remembered it as clearly as in the first years. As she sat, gazing intently into the dark heavens above her, slowly out of the blanket of night far above the tossing waves and pictured on the skies above, many, many little faces with arms outstretched were reaching out to her. Her whole soul was stirred within her, for she knew that God was speaking to her through this vision in the heavens, and she cried out, “O God, where are they?”

Slowly a change came over the scene. There appeared on the darkened sheet of the evening sky, letters in blazing light, as plain as the handwriting on the wall in the house of Nebuchadnezzar. They appeared just above the group of little faces. The message slowly spelled out, “India’s helpless little ones are calling you.”

It was enough. Her call from that hour was a definitely settled thing, a very part of her life. But from that night alone with God at the oceanside, nine long years passed, praying, seeking, serving, waiting. And ever in heart and mind, her face was set toward the little faces and out-stretched hands over the sea. Anything that could help to hasten the hour of departure for the chosen land, she sought to do.

She left Long Beach, California, and went to Anderson, Indiana, where the publishing house of the church was located. It was in the early days of the pioneering ministers. They had been holding services in the Main Home. Finally, feeling the need of a separate place of worship and also the leadership of a resident pastor over the flock, they began to look into the matter.

Up to this time different ministers, serving in one capacity or another, had cheerfully served as best they could. At this time, however, the general sentiment was to select a pastor to be the shepherd of the flock in full capacity. Faith Stewart was called in and asked to take over this responsibility, which she did, pastoring that congregation for some time.

It was while pastoring in Anderson, Indiana, that she became very ill, steadily growing worse. Pneumonia works fast, and soon all hope for her life was again given up. Dear friends watched by her bedside faithfully, and did what they could to relieve her. Finally they told her she was sick unto death, but she held on to God in her suffering. He gave her the last three verses of the ninety-first Psalm. The kind friend sitting at the bedside turned to the Psalms, reading these precious and meaningful words. “Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.”* (Psalm 91:14-16)

“That is God’s promise to me,” she said, “and He will heal me and raise me up again.” In a short time, she returned to normal health.

It was not long after this that a plea came from Houston, Texas, for someone to be sent from Anderson to plant this truth in that city. Once more she went forth to take charge of a work in the homeland. By this time, a group of the ministers had organized in a Mission Board and made themselves responsible for getting men and women to the fields. She wrote them at different times, when the burden to go forth to the foreign lands seemed too heavy to bear, that she could wait no longer, and telling them she was most clearly called to India.

Throughout this weary time, not a word of encouragement came, and frequently letters came to her presenting the fact that, in their opinion, she was unprepared for such a task. Also they mentioned that her frail health would most certainly not permit her to go as a missionary to the foreign fields. Besides this, there were no funds to finance the opening of such an institution, or to support it. So the call, as far as they were concerned, could not be of God.

We cannot imagine the heaviness of heart, the waiting day after day, month after month, year after year. A weight that grew heavier with each delay, the call to the field being clearer and clearer with time. Would the door to the beloved work never open? Time was passing, and little arms reached ever toward her from waiting India.

At one time when a group of workers were going out to India, great hope filled her heart, and she began to get ready to go along as they went. She felt that God was surely working this time. Then an affliction appeared in her eyes and caused her hopes to be doomed to disappointment. Again she was left at home in the homeland. This time it was harder than ever before, for she had procured sheets, pillowcases, and other needed articles and packed them in a trunk. Then, after the ship had sailed, there was nothing to do but to take the trunk, packed and ready, and even labeled for India, and place it in the attic of the Gospel Trumpet Home. There it remained for nearly two years, when by the means of earnest prayer and the very power of God, it was taken out of storage.

Pastoring there in the city of Houston, Texas, as she prayed and waited, the days grew longer and hope more dim. One day a woman stood in front of her home waiting for a car to get to her destination. Her little girl, playing about while waiting, fell, and cut an artery in her wrist which bled profusely. The poor woman, holding the freely-bleeding arm, hastened up the steps of the house where Faith lived. She knocked at the door, asking permission to enter and care for the child. As the injured arm continued to bleed freely, she became alarmed and asked how to secure the services of a doctor.

“I do not know the name of any doctor in this town, for I have not lived here long. But do you believe that God can heal this arm?” Faith asked.

The woman hesitated for a moment, and then answered: “I do believe that He can.”

Then they turned to God in earnest prayer, and the blood stopped flowing, for it had been touched by the power of the great Physician. That was the beginning of the faithful attendance to the services held at the home. It was also the means of her salvation. Her husband had been away from home for several months, living in sin. Later, he returned home to find a Christian family, and he himself turned to God.

But again she became more and more restless. Something must be done; some effort must be made as she waited to obey the call. But what? What more than had already been done? She entered into fasting and prayer, with the decision not to break it until God answered by opening the door for her going forth.

It was during this great fast that she received a letter from J. W. Phelps, Secretary of the Missionary Board at Anderson, Indiana. “There is,” he wrote, “something here very difficult for me to understand. The finances here are low, and we are in dire need of funds for other things. But a fund of one hundred dollars has been sent to the office with the request that it be used to get Faith Stewart to the mission field. The writer says that although he is not a believer in God, he believes in Faith Stewart. Also, he asked that his name is not to be disclosed, nor the fact that he has sent the money to a Christian cause. Do you know anything about this?”

She wrote back, “This man is a neighbor, a very close one, living in the other half of the duplex where I reside in Texas. The reason he does not believe in God is because he does not know God. The reason he believes in me is that he does know me and has watched my life from day to day.”

This was the answer to three days fasting and prayer, and she knew at long last God had heard and was opening the magic door to India. With peace and joy, she could now await the next move.

One of the obstacles in the first year of the long nine in which she waited was the assertion that she was called to save the children of India. This, the Board insisted, was a department of mission work they had never considered. As she waited through the years, she had gradually dropped the plea of a special phase of work, asking only to go to India as a missionary.

One of the brethren who had been objecting to her going as a missionary was praying one night, and her case came before him. And he said, “Lord, we cannot send her. She would never stand the climate of India.”

But God said, “Send her, and I will take care of her health when she is where I want her.”

The minister then said, “From now on, I take off my hands and say no more.”

As for the infidel neighbor who sent the gift for missions, God rewarded him by saving his soul. His family had been attending the services at the home of Miss Stewart, and as the duplex where she lived had a larger veranda, he made the excuse of having more space to sit and move about on. This man, who was caring for a grandchild during the services, sat where he could hear the message. He also watched the lives of the people who professed Christ and found indeed that Christ was being exalted by their daily living. As he watched, he became convicted of his own condition and came into the room where the people were assembled. In due time, he accepted Christ as his Savior and became a Christian.

On the following Sunday after the letter was received, a cable from Anderson came through, asking Faith Stewart if she could be ready by the following Saturday to come through Anderson on her way enroute to India. Who could describe the lifting of the load on her heart? For so many years—just waiting, waiting. It seemed like a strong dream. But God answers prayer. Or who could imagine the great peace and joy that encompassed her soul, or the wonderful thought that kept sweeping through her mind?—“At last, India.”

It was the time of the month for the weekend fellowship meeting in the mission, so she hastily announced the wonderful news to the faithful group who worshiped there. But she needed a typewriter and extra clothing to go as far in a faith work. In the morning, one of the members called for her to take her to the business section as an offering had already been taken by the members. Enough had come in to buy the ticket for the ship, but nothing for her food on the road or a typewriter. When she returned, she found laid out on the bed in her room, her outfit to take to India—in pairs of sixes, hose, handkerchiefs, night clothing, lingerie. How wonderful is our God, and truly His ways are past finding out. She lost no time in preparation for the departure and was on her way the very next evening.

On her way to Anderson, she would pass through her beloved home town, and there would be one half hour stop-over. She hastily notified her father and asked that she might come home just long enough to say goodbye. The answer came back: “NO.” As the train pulled in the city of Cornell, she sat looking out over the familiar buildings until she could see the corner of the roof of the barn at home.

How mingled were her feelings that day! Joy and encouragement that her prayers at long last were answered, and she was actually on her way to the land of her call. But also deep, heart-shaking sorrow that she was cut off from a last glimpse of her dear father. So she sat quietly there on the train, her eyes fixed in the direction of the old home, drawing from memory to picture the scene within.

When she arrived at Anderson, she was told that a letter had been received from A. D. Kahn, a native preacher in India, asking for a missionary to be sent out to rescue the little temple girls of that land. This then was God’s way to reveal not only His will concerning the call to India, but the very specified work He wanted done. “What a mighty God we serve.”*

Even after they had given full consent to her going to the field, they looked at her frail frame and said to her, “You only weigh ninety-eight pounds now and probably have just three months to last in a land like India.”

And she answered, “I would rather live three months in the will of God in India than ten years in the homeland.”

There was no special avenue for the support to come through in those days, or to supply funds after going. The leaders at home took what came in and conscientiously gave out equally to each one. As she stood by, the secretary pulled out a small drawer and poured out the money that lay in it, and with what she had in hand, there was enough just to buy her ticket to New York, but nothing for her extra expenses.

She reached New York and visited Grand Avenue Mission where everything was arranged for her sailing. The ship, Mauretania, was to sail at one a.m. the next morning. That evening there was a prayer meeting held upstairs. As she was coming down the stairs to go to the entrance, the young son of Mr. Blewitt, who had just received his first pay for working one month, rushed in, saying, “I want to give you something.” He handed her a five dollar gold piece. This was the only money she had with her to go to a foreign land alone. But she was content.

Faith Stewart was no longer a young girl. The years since she first felt the call to serve across the seas had passed over, and she had reached her thirty-fourth year. However, in the joy of answered prayer, and feeling that her feet were at last set in the direction that her head and heart had been for so long, she rejoiced and her cup overflowed.