Susie Proves a Helper

Three weeks passed, and each day left Joe more miserable than he had been the day before. How he longed to find the peace for which his soul was craving! Nothing else seemed to occupy his mind, and this was the only topic of conversation between him and his wife. So serious had the matter become to him that Susie became very much alarmed about him, and finally decided the best thing for her to do was to let him know again that she thought him the best man she knew. But when she began to tell him of his good graces, she found that he could only see the worst part of himself and all her words only brought deeper conviction. Each Sunday morning he would say to Susie, as they would prepare to attend services, “Surely I shall hear something today that will help me to find the peace for which I long.” In this, however, he was disappointed, for the sermons consisted principally of an admonition to observe the rules of the church, to dress plainly and be industrious, and to stand stedfast in the faith, for the one who endured unto the end was the one who would be saved.

Among all the hearers there was none more attentive than Joe, for he was searching for that which would bring the peace for which his soul was longing. But it seemed that no light dawned on his soul. Instead the way became darker and darker. Although he was desirous to be a real Christian, he did not confide in Alfred, but was free to speak on the subject to his wife, for he felt that she was really a Christian and could give him the needed help. The more she tried to assist her husband the more the arrow of conviction was plunged into her own heart, and many times after trying to encourage him she would sit in deep meditation, asking herself many questions. But usually the question that came first to her was, “How can I instruct him when I am no nearer right than he is?” In this manner the two fought the battle together, neither confiding in their neighbors who were able to instruct them and show them the way to God and to the peace for which they both craved.

Alfred and Tulle were not blind to conditions in the Holmier home, and many nights when unable to sleep they would arise from their bed and spend much time on their knees praying for Joe and Susie. They felt that the more they prayed the more miserable the two became. Although so burdened for them, they never mentioned their soul need to them in any way, but went on about their labors on the farm as usual. How wisely they dealt with their neighbors, waiting for that moment when they could speak to them of God. When they felt that they needed help they went on their knees to talk to God, asking that He would send the Holy Spirit to talk to Joe and Susie, knowing the instruction given them would be effective.

Alfred and Tillie often went to services with Joe and Susie, but the evening of the third Sunday after Joe had confided in his wife and told her that he felt his need of a real experience, the two went to spend the evening with another neighbor who had a very sick child, so did not go with Joe and his wife to church. The trip to Steele’s Crossing was made in almost complete silence on the part of both, but as they neared the little chapel where they had attended services since the first of the year Joe remarked, “Susie, I feel that I shall hear something tonight that will be of benefit to me and help me to get the experience I so much desire.”

“I truly hope that you do,” replied Susie, “for I feel that if you get something good I shall, too.”

“But you do not need it as I do,” said Joe, as he assisted her to alight from the wagon. “If I were only as good as you, I would not feel that I needed much more.”

“Oh, Joe,” said Susie, and her voice trembled; “if you only knew just what you were saying you would not speak as you do. I feel so little and unworthy and feel my need also.”

“That has always been the trouble with me,” replied Joe. “I thought I was alright and did not need anything, but awakened to the fact that I do not have what I really need. I only wish I were as good as you are.” And with this remark they entered the little chapel.

Joe felt confident that he would hear something that would be of benefit to him. But the preacher gave out a sermon on the peculiarity of God’s people—how they were different from anyone else or any class of people, dwelling especially on the thought that they did not follow the fads and fashions of the world, stating that if anyone, even a stranger, should come among them the stranger could readily tell the ones who had separated themselves from the world by the manner of dress that was worn. Joe felt more burdened than ever. For a number of years he had worn the plain dress of his particular faith, but he could not say that it had brought him the thing for which his heart craved, and he decided that it took more to be a Christian than to attire oneself in any particular mode of dress.

The trip home was not made in such abject silence as that to the chapel had been, for Joe talked freely to his wife about the longing of his soul, and how hungry he was really to know God and feel that all the wrongs he had done were blotted out. “But what shall I do?” asked Joe as he entered the lot and the team came to a standstill. “I do not know what to do. God knows I would do anything that is required of me so that I could feel that I was right with God and everything that I have done that is wrong has been forgiven. There surely must be some way, but what it is I do not know. Can’t you help me? You promised me that you would help me all you could and I want you to help me now, for I cannot go on in this manner much longer. The burden is getting so heavy that I can scarcely bear up under it. Is there no way out?”

Tears were streaming down his face as he pleaded with Susie to help him. How she wanted to tell him that she, too, felt the need of help, but refrained from doing so, fearing it would discourage him, for she knew that he had made her his sole confidant and was looking to her at this time for help. How she longed to be a real helper. For some time they sat in the wagon and neither spoke. All at once a passage of scripture which she had read a few days before came to her and she said, “There surely is help, or you would not have been made to feel your need. I think when we do our part God will surely do His part. Don’t you?”

“It seems that is the way it should be,” replied Joe, “but what does He want me to do? If I only knew what He wanted me to do I would surely do it.”

“I think God works just as His Word says, don’t you?” inquired Susie.

“I do not see how He could work otherwise,” replied Joe. “But what does His Word tell us to do when we want to know we are right with God and all that we have done is forgiven?”

“I can only tell you what I read a few days ago,” said Susie. “ ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness,’* (1 John 1:9) and ‘he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.’* (Hebrews 11:6) ”

“That sounds good to me,” said Joe, “but I know that I have confessed the best I know. God knows I would do anything that is required of me that I might obtain that peace for which I long.”

“You might have confessed,” replied Susie, “but failed to seek Him diligently. I am sure when we do our part that God will do His part.”

“That may be true,” replied Joe, “I might not have been so earnest about it as God requires me to be, but wherein I have lacked and whatever I have failed to do I mean to do, for I shall not give up until I know there is no hope for me.”

“That sounds to me like diligence,” said Susie as Joe alighted from the wagon and began to unhitch the horses. After caring for the team the two went to the house, each carrying a child in their arms, and as Joe laid his sleeping boy on the bed he said, “If I were just as innocent as he is, I would be all right.”

“Yes,” replied Susie very slowly. “I read where Jesus said one time to some certain people, ‘Except ye be converted and become as little children ye can in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven,’* () and I believe that is what he meant. We are to be just as innocent before him as our little children are before us.”

Poor Susie. How incompetent she felt of giving instruction, yet unconscious of the fact she was giving the enlightenment that was needed. After the children were undressed and in their nighties Joe said, “I wish you would take the children and go on to bed and leave me alone for awhile for I know there will be no sleep for me lf I do go to bed.” So Susie took the two children and went upstairs to their bedroom, leaving Joe to himself. For some time he paced the floor back and forth through the living room, through the dining room, and then into the kitchen. Only those who have had a like experience can understand the battle that was raging in his soul.

At last he sat down on a kitchen stool, and resting his elbows on his knees he buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud in his anguish. He sat there for some time. When he arose and entered the little pantry, he fell on his knees, and as he did so he felt so little and so mean that he could not lift his head. Falling over, he buried his face in his hands on the floor and again groaned aloud. He seemed unable to utter a word. The words his wife spoke to him, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” kept ringing in his ears, and as he would think of them, he would again groan aloud. At last the wrongs that he had done began coming up before him. This brought gushing tears, and he said, “Yes, Lord, I did it, but I am sorry. Forgive me.” These were the only words of prayer could utter. He thought himself all alone. But, as Alfred and Tillie came in at a late hour, Alfred heard heavy groans coming from the region of the Holmier kitchen and he went to investigate. As he entered into the dark room he heard Joe say, “Yes, Lord, I did it. Forgive me,” and knew what was going on. So he withdrew as quietly as he had come. But he and his wife on their knees in their own home prayed earnestly for God to give Joe the needed help.

Joe kept confessing and asking forgiveness and at last found words to cry out, “Now, Lord, I have done all that I know to do. What more do I lack?” Immediately the words of his wife came to him, “He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.” For some time he remained quiet, then again groaned aloud. He cried out, “Lord, I believe Thou art, and Thou art a rewarder of them that diligently seek Thee, and I have sought Thee diligently.” As he spoke these words, his faith took hold of God and he felt the load lifted from his soul. He arose from his prostrate position and, going up the stairs two steps at a time he cried out, “Susie, I have found it! Susie, I have found it!”

As he entered their bedroom he found a woman with a tear-stained face, and as he began walking the floor praising God, she broke down and began sobbing and said, “Oh, Joe, pray for me, for I am not right.” As Joe knelt down beside his wife, he found his tongue had been loosed. He called on God to help and soon Susie’s shouts were mingled with his as she, too, found that peace of soul that passeth all understanding.

There was no sleep for them. The shouts had been heard in the adjoining room. Alfred and Tillie came in to rejoice with them in their new-found joy. Alfred then told Joe he had entered the kitchen unnoticed by him while he was in the pantry, to which Joe inquired why he did not try to help him. Alfred said, “I did not think you needed my help, for I knew by the way you were doing it that you would soon get what you were seeking.”

At this Susie began to praise the Lord again and said, “The wonderful thing about it is that I found peace, too.”

After the second outburst had subsided Joe laid his hand on Susie’s head and said, “How about your little cap?”

A look of surprise passed over her face as she exclaimed, “Ah, I did not have it on, did I?”

“No,” replied Joe laughingly. “You forgot your little white cap, but you did not forget to pray.”