Chapter XII

The Light Breaks In

One evening as I was left alone while Mr. Berg was out making some sick-calls and the nurse was busy in the kitchen, there suddenly came into my heart an intense longing—I felt compelled to cry aloud to some unseen power for help; I could not raise my voice above a whisper, so in an earnest whisper I pled, “If it could be possible that there is a God out there somewhere—reveal Yourself to me; if You are there You have heard what my husband says and how he prays, and You can reveal Yourself to me.” I seemed driven by some power beyond myself to call and call, and so, over and over I repeated, “If You are there, please oh please, for mercy’s sake, reveal Yourself to me.” As though in response to my plea, a deep conviction of sin came over my heart; I felt as though I were the vilest of sinners. This was unusual, for the simple reason that I had always been rather self-righteous; I had lived a very moral life, and was quite proud of it—very self-satisfied. Whenever I looked back on my past life and remembered the mission work I had done, I was quite content; for had I not risked my life in certain types of rescue work? Even when I had come right to the very gates of death and a great fear settled on my heart, I would call to mind and take much satisfaction in the thought of those years of sacrificial service; but now they looked like “filthy rags” to me. It was as though my eyes had suddenly been opened and I saw myself in my true condition for the first time in my life—my past works appeared as nothing. My service had not been as unto Him, or my motive that He should be glorified. The burden of sin and self increased until it seemed greater than I could bear, and at length I began to weep.

I wish I could tell you just what took place at that time in my heart, but it is absolutely impossible. The new birth is a mysterious, supernatural work which is done by the Lord Himself, and I cannot tell you how He did it, but He completely changed my heart! That evening lying there on that bed, alone, I was born again, as a definite result of faithful, believing prayer. It sounds so simple, so trite, to just say, “I was changed”; “I was born again,” but I would belittle the wonders of God’s working and the miraculous transformation that took place that evening if I were to attempt to describe them in detail. I can only say, as did the blind man whom Jesus healed, “One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). Jesus said to Nicodemus, “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit” (John 3:8).

I was not alone any longer for I felt His presence in that room as real as if some member of the family were standing by my sickbed, and I was talking to Him as naturally as a little child talks to a parent; I told Him all about it, and I knew He heard and understood, for a sweet, ineffable peace, past understanding, and a cool restfulness, came over my troubled spirit. I had seen no vision, heard no voice, nor otherwise evidenced anything with the natural senses, but had heard the “still small voice” in my heart, and had come into such a real, personal contact with Him, that I could truly say, “I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him.” All my unbelief had fled—God was real, indeed, and I was “a new creature in Christ Jesus”—“The light had broken in!”