Once more, in my mind's eye, I
read them the Holy Scriptures and prayed with them all.
It was summer again, and I stood waist-deep in the pleasant
waters of Cornie Creek, baptizing candidates by the score. One by
one I lowered each into a symbolic watery grave and then raised
them up-to walk a new spiritual life. And members stood at the
water's edge and sang the sacred hymns.
I thought on all these things of bygone years. But I asked
myself, did I actually show the great and mighty and merciful God
to the people? Did a single one get even a glimpse of the truth?
Lige, as I rode on toward home that cold, lonely February
day, I was utterly dejected. I felt all was lost. Finally I
stopped looking through the Bible. I quit thinking of sermons I
had or had not preached. Instead, I began to call out to God. I
must have actually cried aloud, for my mares, Martha and Mary,
gave a sudden leap and almost took me into a ditch!
How long I prayed, I couldn't say. But slowly, great comfort
spread over me like a warm cloak, and with it came a peace, a
serenity of heart I could scarcely comprehend.
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