Sunrise on the Highway

It was on a Valentine’s Day in February of the year 1878 that there came to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph H. Stewart, a blue-eyed, auburn-haired, little baby girl—how strange and wonderful is this life of ours! Who, looking on this tiny bit of human flesh and blood so lately arrived, would have dreamed of ships and planes, of continents and peoples, or of souls in dark lands brought to a saving knowledge of Christ? How great is our Lord, and His ways are past finding out!

These good Scotch parents lived in the small town of Linton, Des Moines County, Iowa. Faithful to the teaching of their accepted belief, they still adhered to the Presbyterian doctrine of their childhood, and so laid the foundation for a nominal Christian life, teaching the same to their children. Up to the age of twelve years, Etta Faith Stewart, the little girl mentioned above, accepted these teachings. About that time the family moved from their location, and in so doing found themselves no longer near their old place of worship. So Faith began to attend services at the Methodist church in the community.

Those were the days of protracted meetings among the Methodists. In the course of time, a series of special revival services began. Listening night after night to the old-time messages of conviction and repentance for sin that went forth, she knew in her heart that she did not have this experience. With all her heart, she responded to the call for repentance and the pleading of the Holy Spirit, and was saved by the power of God.

Because of the physical condition of her mother, early in life, at the tender age of eight years, she began to do a part of the work at home. The mother, being for many years a semi-invalid and unable to be about, was compelled to lay the burden of the housework upon the shoulders of her daughter when only twelve years of age. She took practically the oversight of the entire house. Washing, ironing, and cooking were laid upon the frail shoulders of this very young girl.

One day her mother called her to her bedside. “Faith,” she said, “I want you to go out into the kitchen, take all the dishes out of the cupboard, take out the papers, wipe the shelf with a damp cloth wrung out of clear water, put in clean papers, and then put back the dishes.”

She went obediently into the kitchen and took out all the dishes, but when they were set out, the paper underneath looked so clean that she merely dusted off the paper and put them back. In doing this she was through much earlier.

Her mother awoke from the sleep she had fallen into and called her to the room, saying, “Faith, have you finished the cupboard?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Did you wipe off the shelves with a damp cloth?”

“No, Mother.”

“Then go back into the kitchen, remove all the dishes, and take a damp cloth and wipe all the shelves as you were told to do in the first place.”

She went back to do the work as she was bidden, and never again did she try to shirk when the patient mother bade her do it right. She learned this lesson early in life.

Her great passion for the welfare of the children that came later in life was briefly shown in her childish thought at about this age when in school.

One day the teacher, in connection with some discussion in class, asked each child what they intended to be when grown up. Finally she turned to the little girl sitting so quietly in her seat.

“Faith,” she asked, “what do you intend to be when you grow up?”

“I intend to be the mother of twenty children,” she said solemnly.

Faith Stewart eventually became the mother of two hundred children in India and about that many in Cuba.

Two years later there was a special series of meetings held at the chapel, and the evangelist explained how, after we are saved from sin by the forgiveness of God and repentance, accepting Christ as our Savior, then and then only we have something to give to God. Paul wrote to the Christians, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies, holy and acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.”* (Romans 12:1-2)

The evangelist went on to say that after being cleansed of sin, we then owe it to God to present ourselves to Him, to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and to be set apart to live lives of power and separate from the world. God would give the gracious experience to all who would surrender their lives to Him. Two years before that, Faith Stewart had really been saved by the precious blood of the Lamb, and when she heard that message, all the love in her young heart responded to the call. She desired a closer walk with God. There was no doubt in her young mind that this was the very message she needed, and a deep desire came over her.

The sermon ended and was followed by an exhortation and a hymn of old-time invitation. She arose from her seat and walked up the aisle to the altar and knelt humbly there with others of like burden and desire.

Outside the chapel were many who either had no desire to go in or had come too late and found no room inside. They stood quietly on the outside looking in at the many seekers lining the altar. Among these stood Faith Stewart’s father. As he stood there among the other men, he saw his own daughter walk up the aisle and kneel at the altar. Resentment rose up in his heart. The Presbyterian church had no such teaching as this. The ministers of that church did not urge people who professed to be saved to come up to an altar of prayer after conversion. This was fanatical and dangerous, and he would not permit his daughter to become enmeshed in this fanaticism.

He suddenly left the group standing outside the window and going to the open door, strode up the aisle in front of all the congregation, laid his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and bade her arise and go straight home. She arose at once and obediently followed him home. But the longing was not satisfied, and the desire grew deeper within as she prayed secretly in her room for what she could not seek publicly. She prayed earnestly and with faith in her heart until God answered and sent definite peace to her heart. And though she was young in years, God set His seal upon her life.

Sometime later her brother, perhaps critical of her profession of a sanctified life, sought to break down her determination to live holy and Christ-like. He decided that if he could just annoy her until she became angry, he could not only satisfy himself that he was right, but would be able to convince her that she could not live without sin. Not long after this decision on his part, the opportunity came to give the test. She was home, and there was an engagement to be kept where she must take an early train. It was midwinter and the weather was bitterly cold. This time he decided to put the full test to the case. They arose early in plenty of time to take the train, but he loitered and would not hurry. She reminded him that she would be late if they did not hurry, but he lagged behind and wasted time until the last moment.

The heated bricks were placed in the sleigh, the blankets brought out, and at last they started to the railway station. As they came in sight, they saw the train starting on its way. Too late. Now she would promptly tell him what she thought about the whole thing. He waited.

She turned to him and said, “I really feel sorry for you. For it will be necessary for you to get up early tomorrow morning so we can get to the train in time.”

They turned and drove back through the biting cold, and when they reached home, her limbs had become so stiff with the cold that she had to be assisted into the house. The next day she was ill, went down with pneumonia, and was very sick from the exposure. That was the last time her brother ever attempted to meddle with her profession of sanctification.

At the age of sixteen years the burden of a call for missionary work first came, and often she would speak of this to her parents. The frail mother, lying most of the time on a bed of affliction, would say, “Faith, if you are going to be a missionary, you must learn not only to sweep about that rug, but to lift it from the floor and to shake it as well. Missionaries need to be thorough in their work for God.”

These lessons were never forgotten by the girl who honored and respected her mother whose sickness kept her confined to her bed most of the years of her daughter’s childhood. During those years there were a few times that she had been removed to the porch for the fresh air. The rest of the time she taught from her bedside and trained her in the solid principles that most surely prepared her daughter for her life work for God.

In this little county town of few interests and not many people, there was time after all the many tasks to read her Bible faithfully, and as new light fell on her soul, she stepped out and took a firmer stand. Slowly, as she read its pages (especially as she read of the baptism of Christ), she was convinced that this was the only true mode according to the Bible. She also began to realize a true standard for daily life. In order to fulfill her own desires and to obey her own convictions, she sought membership in the Baptist Church of that place.

About this time a young man from Cornell College, Iowa, came to the town of Morning Sun, where the Stewart family resided, seeking young people interested in becoming students in that college. He was directed to the Stewart home. The older brother of Faith had graduated from the high school of that village. The stranger was a Christian, and he was also seeking a place to room while in the town. He found lodging in the Stewart home, and as he remained, he began to notice the young girl in her faithful round of home duties and her loyalty to the church services.

On the last eve of his stay in the Stewart home, he asked the privilege of talking alone with the young daughter, and his request was granted. Sitting across the room from him by the fireplace, she timidly listened to his conversation. As a young man out in the world and brushing shoulders with his fellow men, he could easily see that the girl was pure and very shy. Once that evening he said, looking at her kindly, “You do not need to be afraid of me, Faith.” The evening at last came to a close, and he bade her farewell. On the morrow he departed for the city of Cornell and to his studies for the winter.

Not long after that, the Stewart family moved to the city of Cornell, Iowa, in order that the son might have the privilege of attending the university. There, in this city, love and happiness came to the quiet and timid girl. The brief acquaintance with the young student who had visited the home had ripened into something fine and lasting between them, and in due course of time, they became engaged to be married. He was a gentleman and worthy of the girl he so admired, and she, modest and trusting, was finally persuaded to accept the place of all places in his heart and life sometime in the future.

He had not chosen without due consideration, for he had witnessed the daily ministering to a sick mother, the care of the home on her young shoulders, the many duties faithfully performed each day, and realized that life could mean much to a young man with such a companion by his side. And Faith Stewart returned his love from the very depths of her young heart. She was content to labor in her home and wait through the years while he studied to obtain an education sufficient for the life work he hoped to do someday. Somehow the fact that he was of the Methodist persuasion and she a little Baptist girl brought no barrier between them. They were both Christians, they loved one another, and life held many fine things ahead for them. Never did things go better nor the future seem brighter.

The sixteenth year was indeed a memorable year for Faith. So many big things happened at that particular time. The dear mother, who had been confined to her bed so long, had always been a comfort and stay to her young daughter, but now was called to her final reward, leaving the full responsibility on the young girl. It was about this time that she began to teach in the Bible School and to take part in the mid-week prayer services and other activities of the church. Here she remained until her twenty-first year. During that time she had met the only man she was ever to love, as well as receiving a definite call to the mission field.

The year that she was twenty-one, she became very ill. She had never been a very strong girl. Pneumonia soon developed and then settled in her lungs, and tuberculosis seized her frame. Her condition grew rapidly worse until her loved ones were compelled to plan now to save her life. In view of her physical condition, the only thing that now could be done was to put off the marriage indefinitely until in better health. A companion, a middle-aged woman, was employed by the family to attend her and live with her. They went to Denver, Colorado, hoping against hope that the pure air might yet benefit her and save her life.

In spite of the faithful daily trips to the city parks and sitting or half-reclining in the canvas chair in the sunshine, she grew rapidly worse, until a council of physicians came to the decision that there was no hope. She then expressed a desire to go home. She was informed that she was too far away and too weak to make the journey to her native state and loved ones. The only thing left to do now was to wait as patiently as she could for the end. At this time her right lung was but a shell, and there were three cavities in the left one. As she was given but a short time to live, she and her companion would each day prepare a lunch, take the city car, carrying a pillow and a canvas chair, and lie in the sunshine most of the day in the park.

As they made their daily trips, they had often noticed a small mission building, as they rode past it on their way to the park. One day, as they stood in front, waiting to take a car homeward, they saw a group of people out in front of the building holding a street service before going inside for the regular meeting. There were special revival services going on, and a young Christian woman came and urged them to come inside and enjoy the singing. After a slight hesitation, they accepted her invitation and went in to hear the whole-hearted singing of hymns. Never had Faith heard such hearty singing. It seemed to spring from the heart and bubble over in confidence of God.

How strangely God seems to work at times. Often the very thing that brings the blessing to us is the most inconvenient at the time of its happening. Sitting there in the rear of the building, she was stricken with a hemorrhage. Some of the men went out of the service and brought in bedding; others placed two pews together, adding pads and pillows. And she lay there too weak and sick to be moved. May Addams, pastor of the little flock, prayed earnestly, asking God to strengthen her and make it possible for her to stay on through the evening service. God answered, and she stayed on through the rest of the day. In the evening she was able to get home through the kind assistance of the Christians who procured a rig and saw her safely home.

While she lay there the ministers came to the side of her improvised bed and talked with her about the plan of God for the healing of her body. This angered her companion who did not agree with the teaching of divine healing. But between services, members of the group would come and sit beside her and read the promises of God concerning His power and willingness to heal the sick.

Then they asked her, “Do you want to obey God’s word and be healed?”

Away from home, lonely, sick unto death, no hope held out by man, given but a short time to live, knowing, oh, so little about this great adventure of faith, yet honestly believing the Word of God, she gave the only answer that was reasonable.

“I am willing,” said she.

They gathered about her in loving concern; strangers, people of a faith hitherto unknown to her, but filled with the love of God and the compassion of the heavenly Father for a fellow—sufferer. Alas! How far we have drifted in the Church of the living God from that faith that these pioneers of this blessed truth exercised. Is He not able, who at the first created the human body, to heal or mend a part of that marvelous piece of fleshly mechanism? She was anointed, and the prayer of faith was prayed as these humble followers of Christ laid on hands and believed.

Though she knew so little at that time about trusting God for her health, she sensed that God had definitely laid His hand upon her. They pressed her to stay for the evening service when she became able to sit upon her bed.

Her companion became very angry at this and said, “If you are going to worship with these people, I shall not stay with you or be responsible for you.”

At this she made good her word and returned home to her room in the city. After the services Faith went home with one of the Christian women and remained there during the series of meetings.

Each day new strength came, and she found herself improving steadily. By the time that the special services were closing at the little mission, she knew that not only had God healed her but that this humble group of people who had left the world to follow Jesus had brought truth and light to her soul that she had never heard in her life. It was thus she made contact with the teaching of the church of God and began a new life of service in their midst. The companion who had come with her had at once returned home, leaving her among people, who, though strangers, seemed as old friends in their loving kindness toward her.