The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation [38]
scarcely repress the
impulse to use them all the time. For a long time after this, when the
Bible was read or testimony struck me as being just right, I would audibly
say: "Praise God!" This was a "gift", for I had never felt the
impulse before. I have in a measure left this off, but I use it all the time,
when I hear good news, or see what pleases me. "He led captivity (sin)
captive and gave GIFTS unto men. Ever since I received the "baptism of
the Holy Ghost," I have liked one church about as well as another. I go
to all even the Catholic. I fast on Friday and use the sign of the cross.
Fast, because my Savior suffered in the flesh on Friday; use the sign
of the cross, because in the cross is salvation. Meditations on the cross
always lift heavenward. 'Tis the royal way, I want to keep it always in
view, want it to be the last I see. We who bear the cross continually in
this transient life, will wear the crown continually in the eternal. I love
a picture of the cross or a crucifix. I am debtor both to the Jew and the
Greek. I do not feel the dislike to the Catholic church that some Protestants
do. I believe there are as many honest priests as there are other
ministers. God's church is invisible to the world, for it is set up in the
hearts of the children of men. I have been greatly edified by conversing
with Catholic priests. When I lived in Texas my spiritual condition was
such that I wanted some explanation. I went to see Father Hennesy, of
Houston, I explained to him my strange leadings, he said a wise and
good thing, told me to "read the scriptures and pray and God would lead
me right."
I was at church in Medicine Lodge one night, during a protracted
meeting held by Bro. Parker and Hodges. Two sisters came to me and
complained that I made so much noise, said they could not enjoy the service.
I said: "To please you I will try to keep quiet, but remember
it is my God and YOUR God I am praising. I would rejoice to hear
you praise Him." Next night something was said that was good to
me. I said: "Praise God!" caught myself when I saw one of the sisters
near, and from that time I felt little impulse and at last none. I went
to every meeting but lost my liberty and became so bound, I could not
testify or pray. I was very miserable, would weep from a desolation of
spirit. This continued for three weeks. The meeting was still going on.
My spiritual darkness became so great, I went up one afternoon to the altar.
I rose and told of how I had "lost my liberty and peace by withholding
praise to God by trying to please two sisters." While I was confessing,
the spirit fell in great power and I acted like I was beside myself, was
almost wild with delight. I seemed to fly home and back in the evening.
One in this state appears crazy to the world, even disgusting. No one
sees a reason for this unnatural overflow of feeling. At the beginning
of the service, opportunity was given for testimony. I rose eager to tell
of my returned joy; told of praying for, and getting what I prayed for,
then losing it, by compromise; closed by saying: "That never again
would I refuse to do the will of God even if it offended all and made me
appear a fool." My testimony seemed to be fanatical, for my manner
indicated one greatly moved. When I took my seat a "still small voice"
said. "You must sing a song." Bro. Osburn was sitting near. He had
the song book "Finest of the Wheat," in his hands. I took it then handed
it back. I felt like one in a dreadful dilemma--all joy had given place
to fear. Bro. Osburn again handed me the book. I felt then I must go
through this trying ordeal. I took the book, walked up to the front, all
were standing, the church crowded and Bro. Parker gave out the number
of the hymn "40". "No," I said, "We will sing No. 3." This song
was, "I know Not Why This Wondrous Grace To Me He Hath Made
Known." Bro. Parker gave out the number again. I said, "No," and
began to sing. Bro. Allen accompanied me with his cornet. Of course
one can imagine what an impression this would make
impulse to use them all the time. For a long time after this, when the
Bible was read or testimony struck me as being just right, I would audibly
say: "Praise God!" This was a "gift", for I had never felt the
impulse before. I have in a measure left this off, but I use it all the time,
when I hear good news, or see what pleases me. "He led captivity (sin)
captive and gave GIFTS unto men. Ever since I received the "baptism of
the Holy Ghost," I have liked one church about as well as another. I go
to all even the Catholic. I fast on Friday and use the sign of the cross.
Fast, because my Savior suffered in the flesh on Friday; use the sign
of the cross, because in the cross is salvation. Meditations on the cross
always lift heavenward. 'Tis the royal way, I want to keep it always in
view, want it to be the last I see. We who bear the cross continually in
this transient life, will wear the crown continually in the eternal. I love
a picture of the cross or a crucifix. I am debtor both to the Jew and the
Greek. I do not feel the dislike to the Catholic church that some Protestants
do. I believe there are as many honest priests as there are other
ministers. God's church is invisible to the world, for it is set up in the
hearts of the children of men. I have been greatly edified by conversing
with Catholic priests. When I lived in Texas my spiritual condition was
such that I wanted some explanation. I went to see Father Hennesy, of
Houston, I explained to him my strange leadings, he said a wise and
good thing, told me to "read the scriptures and pray and God would lead
me right."
I was at church in Medicine Lodge one night, during a protracted
meeting held by Bro. Parker and Hodges. Two sisters came to me and
complained that I made so much noise, said they could not enjoy the service.
I said: "To please you I will try to keep quiet, but remember
it is my God and YOUR God I am praising. I would rejoice to hear
you praise Him." Next night something was said that was good to
me. I said: "Praise God!" caught myself when I saw one of the sisters
near, and from that time I felt little impulse and at last none. I went
to every meeting but lost my liberty and became so bound, I could not
testify or pray. I was very miserable, would weep from a desolation of
spirit. This continued for three weeks. The meeting was still going on.
My spiritual darkness became so great, I went up one afternoon to the altar.
I rose and told of how I had "lost my liberty and peace by withholding
praise to God by trying to please two sisters." While I was confessing,
the spirit fell in great power and I acted like I was beside myself, was
almost wild with delight. I seemed to fly home and back in the evening.
One in this state appears crazy to the world, even disgusting. No one
sees a reason for this unnatural overflow of feeling. At the beginning
of the service, opportunity was given for testimony. I rose eager to tell
of my returned joy; told of praying for, and getting what I prayed for,
then losing it, by compromise; closed by saying: "That never again
would I refuse to do the will of God even if it offended all and made me
appear a fool." My testimony seemed to be fanatical, for my manner
indicated one greatly moved. When I took my seat a "still small voice"
said. "You must sing a song." Bro. Osburn was sitting near. He had
the song book "Finest of the Wheat," in his hands. I took it then handed
it back. I felt like one in a dreadful dilemma--all joy had given place
to fear. Bro. Osburn again handed me the book. I felt then I must go
through this trying ordeal. I took the book, walked up to the front, all
were standing, the church crowded and Bro. Parker gave out the number
of the hymn "40". "No," I said, "We will sing No. 3." This song
was, "I know Not Why This Wondrous Grace To Me He Hath Made
Known." Bro. Parker gave out the number again. I said, "No," and
began to sing. Bro. Allen accompanied me with his cornet. Of course
one can imagine what an impression this would make