Highways at Home Again

The great ship that bore Faith Stewart back to her homeland plowed gallantly through the furrows of the mighty waters. Every mile she moved with certain motion bearing away from all that meant happiness and satisfaction to her. It seemed that a peculiar numbing of brain and heart had taken place. So traveling day by day, in due time the ship docked safely in the harbor of New York.

Of those first weeks in the homeland, there is little that need to be said. She reported to the Board and went out. There are missionaries who have been called from the field by men at home, on Missionary Boards, as though they owned God’s heritage (instead of God), and failed to remember that God called these faithful workers, and have made a terrible blunder in the sight of the Almighty who looked down at their bold move in displeasure.

These missionaries have been so heart-broken that they have fallen under a crush, and have been like drifting ships at sea in their dazed and sad condition, and too often they never again make an effort to rise and be active. They seem to think that somewhere back there in the transaction, they died out to usefulness. From thence, they have hunted a quiet place, and, dropping from view, lived on somehow until the end came.

“There is one thing I am resolved to do,” said Faith Stewart, “I will not let this grief ruin my life. As long as I live, by the help of God, I will strive to be useful in the work of the Lord. I will pray God, to forget India and the dear ones left behind. All, all must be laid in the past so that I can labor for souls wherever I find myself. God will meet the need.”

She began to visit congregations wherever she was invited and to speak and stir to activity all who were willing to listen, for a period of several months. About that time, she went to Chicago and preached for a congregation that had no pastor. Some trouble had occurred in the past that left the people in a sad state of division, and they were not prospering either spiritually or financially. There was a debt still to be paid on the building, but in their spiritual condition they had not been able to pay this, and it hung like a pall over them.

When she arrived there, it was very plain that the need of counsel and leadership was great. One of the members came up to her after the service was over, saying, “Come to my house and stay with me while you are in the city.”

“No, I cannot do that. If I came and stayed at your home, then it would affect others in the church, so I must go to a hotel and stay there if I stay for services.”

Staying in the hotel and coming to the church only at time for worship, she was able to avoid any conversation about the existing trouble. The meetings were well attended, and when she returned home she said, “I will be in Anderson, Indiana, if you wish to contact me.” This was said because she had after service been asked to be their pastor.

She returned to the city of Anderson, Indiana, where she had loved ones living, but was only there a day or two when a unanimous call came to pastor the congregation in Chicago. She responded and worked among them for a year, going in and out among them like healing waters, sharing their sorrows and joys and victories, praying for their sick, and preaching to lost souls. The attendance picked up, and God added His blessing, and the work that was going down built up in strength and numbers.

There came a day when she suggested a day of fasting and prayer that the church might be stronger in the Lord and all be one in the Spirit. So they set a day and fasted and waited on the Lord. They met in the morning in a combined service and at noontime separated and went in groups to adjoining classrooms to pray for a period of time. At a stated time, they again met in the auditorium in one assembly.

When they were all assembled, a young man in their midst, of about sixteen years, arose, and with tears rolling down his cheeks said, “I am just a young person in your midst, but I do love the Lord. I want to see His Church go forward. During the trouble that arose in the congregation and divided us, one against the other, I have failed to be wise, and have said many hard things and have been unkind. I know this was wrong. Oh, I am so sorry, and I do ask you all to forgive me. I want to be more like Christ.”

He broke down and wept in deep contrition, and as he took his seat, others arose to confess and still others left their place to go straight to another and confess their thoughts or what they had said in the time of trouble and ask forgiveness. It was a beautiful scene of love and confidence in each other and love and zeal for God’s work. So the division ended, and the congregation began to flourish spiritually once more in the light of God.

The church debt that had hung so heavy over them was now taken over in earnest; and in three months, with concerted effort, the debt of four thousand dollars was paid up. They now began to insist on a salary. She accepted it, but felt that she could not use it for herself. In all her life, she had never before received a salary for the work of the Lord; hers had been always a labor of love, living on the least possible and sharing with others as the means came in.

The young girl who had returned to America with her from India had a desire to attend the Bible Seminary and was financially unable to attend. It did not take long for Faith Stewart to decide. She lived on a small amount and sent the rest to pay for the education of this young Christian and so help to prepare her for a more useful life.

One day when all was going along nicely and everything moving well in the congregation, a letter came from a man, a minister very interested in mission work, and in a position to know whereof he spoke, saying: “We have been working on the case concerning your return to India and have reached the conclusion to send you back at the close of the annual June camp meeting this year. You had better resign your pastorate, pack your things, and come prepared to return to the mission field.”

She was greatly surprised at this unexpected news and could hardly believe it was true, but on the strength of the message, she called the congregation together and broke the news to them. In a few days, she received another letter from him asking her to recommend him to the congregation as he would be very glad to consider the place. So even before she left, she again called them together and recommended the brother in question, and he was accepted. She began to make preparation to leave for the national camp meeting. What mingled feelings were hers as she thought on the future and again looked into the faces and felt the touch of little hands reaching out in India? The days sped by, and she arrived at the June convention in good time.

In loving concern, the people she pastored in Chicago had prepared a farewell breakfast and gave her a gift of one hundred dollars and had bade her goodbye. The memory of this loving kindness touched her heart as she walked over the spacious camp grounds for a few days. She, however, kept waiting to be called into the office by the Board, and as the days wore on, she began to wonder. One day the minister who had written her came to her with tears in his eyes and told her that there had been a mistake, and the Board was not sending her to India. He said that he was very sorry that it had happened, and he would withdraw his application of acceptance of the pastorate in Chicago very gladly, and she could return to her work there.

“No,” she said quietly, “I cannot do that now. When I left Chicago, I bade the people goodbye, and perhaps the change in pastors had best remain as it is. Just go on to Chicago, and take over as you at first planned to do, brother.”

Thus she found herself on the camp grounds without a mission in India or a congregation in Chicago. But as she went among friends, there were many who began to find out that she was free and asked her to come and be their pastor. One congregation said that they would furnish a parsonage, a car, and give her a salary of forty dollars a week. Back in those days, this was exceptionally good. Another group promised her a salary of a certain amount if she would come. Later on, a third party came to her and pled for her to come over and help them.

“We can promise you nothing but hard work, tears, and trials. But we need you so badly. There are only a few of us, and we have so little that you will have to trust God for your needs, for we cannot supply all.”

As we write these lines, we cannot help but wonder where we (you and I) would have chosen to go. Which place would we have felt very strongly led to choose? Knowing this saint of God for so many years, it is not hard to guess and guess correctly that she accepted the pastorate (located in Indianapolis, Indiana) that offered her a challenge and hardships. To these places, only big souls go when they could have chosen the better. We have lost sight of the Church of earlier days which was born in tears and suffering, want and hardships. One scripture tells us that in giving, some out of their “deep poverty”* (2 Corinthians 8:1-3) gave.

So after camp meeting, she took her personal effects and went at once to the pastorate at Indianapolis. Perhaps it was the discouragement that caused the neglect, or maybe it was an actual fact that the group was so small that even the building was out of repair. It is only characteristic of her that she took the little she had of the gift from the congregation in Chicago and repaired the place of worship where the little congregation met. Little by little, the work began to build.

She went out in company with a member of the congregation to look for a room. They walked block after block and could not seem to find what was needed at the price they felt they could pay. At last they passed a house where there was a sign, “Rooms for rent.”

“Let us stop in here,” said Miss Stewart.

“No, it looks like they are moving out. See the furniture on the porch?”

So they passed by and again went for blocks with no success. Finally, they came to the place again, and at the second request the friend who accompanied her consented. They approached the door, and a pleasant-faced woman came to open it. They were shown a large, pleasant room with a small one adjoining, suitable for cooking and light housekeeping. The woman was so pleasant that Faith Stewart felt that she truly had found a new friend. She insisted on serving a glass of lemonade and sitting down with them in a friendly way as though they had been old friends. At this place, Faith Stewart stayed for the some time as she served the congregation, and the friendship between her and this woman grew so steadily that she often visited the home of this fine woman when visiting in the United States in later years. And often when she came in tired from her labor, the kind friend in the home would have her stay for dinner, and saved her much labor and expense when she was really in need. I met the person in question here in Los Pinos a few years ago and learned to love her too for her fine, charitable spirit.

While pastoring in Indianapolis, one night she awakened as though someone had wakened her, and she felt surely led to get out of bed at about two o’clock in the morning and go to visit a certain member. She arose, dressed, and called a taxi and went to the home. But when she reached there, the house looked dark. At first, she was confused, and then she remembered the definite call and spoke to the taxi driver and asked him to wait for her while she looked around the back door.

She went around, and there was a dim light in the kitchen. She motioned the driver to go on and then entered the kitchen. There was the woman, who was a Christian and member of the congregation, sitting in her chair with a heart attack so bad that she could not notify her family and seemed unable to help herself. Then Faith Stewart knew that God had truly sent her to the house to pray for this woman. Moreover, the woman had prayed for help.

How marvelous are the ways of our God! They are past finding out. God prospered the work, and it began to grow, and souls were added to the number already saved, and all was going well. One day she was away from her room for quite awhile, and the congregation sent someone to bring her to a new apartment of four rooms and started to give her a little more to live on than before. After she had rented that first room and the church offering was taken, it had been just the exact amount of the rent for the room and nothing left for food. She had been trusting God for this part and now was rewarded by the prospering work.

Two years passed away, and the work had prospered in every way, but a restlessness came over her, and she felt that she could not continue to labor on in America. To live again in a country that had the Gospel everywhere and see the utter indifference to the great opportunity to find Christ seemed unbearable when the nations waited for the life-giving message. These people knew about Jesus, the Savior, but had no time to bother about salvation. In the main, they seemed content to go to hell. There seemed to be so few hungry, darkened souls to be brought to the light.

A terrible homesickness swept over her to go forth once more and seek in the great harvest fields for precious souls. She knew now, that after three years pastoring in the homeland where the very security made it (despite the few hardships) seem to be sheltered, that she would never be satisfied again to stay at home, and must somehow go forth to the highways and hedges of some other land. In the late spring that year, she resigned the pastorate in Indianapolis, packed up all her clothing and possessions, and arrived on the national camp grounds in June, once more waiting on the Lord for direction.

One day while she was still on the grounds, she spoke to one of the Mission Board and voiced her convictions and laid the burden before him, saying that she had tried faithfully for three years and found that she could not remain in the homeland contented with the easy life she found in the States after knowing and experiencing the rigors of the mission fields. It was true that she was fifty-two years old. But she was in good health.

“Why,” said this man, “where will you go?”

“I do not know,” she said desperately, “but I will take a train and go south as far as the coast. Then I will board the first boat and get off at the first stop that it makes on its journey.”

The man looked at her, puzzled for a time. Then he said, “Why, that would be Cuba, wouldn’t it?”

Cuba! She had never thought the matter that far. She said not a word in reply, but turned hastily and went outside. Cuba! She somehow could not get the thought out of her mind. So she hastened to her room on the grounds. Two young ladies were in the room resting and talking together. She came in and said, “Girls, I am going to Cuba.”

“Cuba?” said one of them, “Why Cuba, of all places? Why not the Canary Islands or some other place?”

“No, I think I will go to Cuba,” she replied.

“Then,” said one of the girls, “I will give you the address of a friend of mine who left Jamaica and is living in Cuba at present. I am sure she will receive you until you can get situated.”

Then Faith Stewart began to call on God, asking Him to verify the call and make it very plain so that there might be no mistake, saying, “Father, friends will be on the grounds and find out that I am in no pastorate and will no doubt offer me a small gift to help along my expenses while here. But I am throwing out the fleece, and I must know that You will be in the matter. If you really are wanting me to go to Cuba as a missionary, then let someone far away from here, who does not know any personal reason that I should need money, send me a gift of larger proportion and send it from a distant city.”

The answer soon came. A letter from a distant city with a gift of ten dollars in it. God had answered her petition explicitly. She now had bearings. Cuba was to be her new field of labor. Just a little island, so very close to home, but a needy place where darkened souls awaited the precious words of eternal Life. She began to make preparations to go to this new mission field to labor for God, and once more her heart was lifted up. True, she did not even have enough money to take her there, only enough to take her to Florida, but in the dark days of the awful grief that had encompassed her, she had felt that someday in the future, He would again permit her to rescue, teach, and lead little needy children to Christ. That day seemed to be drawing very near. But there was also made very clear to her that this new field would be much harder for her, and that she must go through many tests and trials if she went to labor for souls. As did Paul of old, steadily she set her face toward Cuba, and her heart was light and her hopes were high, for she knew that God would not fail her, and at last she was bound for the work she loved. And so it was that she left the highways of America for the highways and hedges of Cuba.

O God of all missionary effort, look down and give a double portion of Thy Spirit, for it will be needed in the many things that shall befall and the years that stretch out before.