Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 23
Mt. Morris (Continued)
Hunger for souls is something which does not die in the breast of a bloodwashed minister. After the first revival meeting had closed, I had a longing for another of a kindred character, and found my heart drawn toward Adaline, a little town nine miles away. I was young, and thought it best to counsel my brethren concerning it. The business of the "Official Board" being finished one night, I frankly said to this beautiful body of men: "I have had thoughts of going to Adaline and holding a meeting, and felt I would like to get your advice concerning it." And to my surprise, those good men turned my proposition into ridicule. They had no idea of my heart convictions concerning it, but I was grieved.
The next day I met Bro. Petrie, who was the leading man of the church and both older and stronger than myself. Being alone, I said: "Bro. Petrie, I am not sure but I shall go to Adaline, notwithstanding the light way in which you fellows treated it last night." And Bro. Petrie rose to his full height, looking me sternly in the eye, and saying: "Bro. Haney, we called you to work in Mt. Morris, and expect to pay you with our money, and we don't propose that you shall fool away your time at Adaline, or anywhere else!" When he spoke of the money, it moved me! Money does generally move people. So I straightened to my full length, and looking Bro. Petrie in the eye, said: "Bro. F. G. Petrie; my brother, I want you to know that no man, or set of men, will ever put a padlock on my mouth, as the minister of Jesus Christ, with their money!" My response was strong and savored of rashness, but to this day I have not changed my mind.
Bro. Petrie was an excellent man--among the very best--but he had an abhorrence at my wasting my time at Adaline. Year after year efforts had been put forth at Adaline, which all seemed an utter failure. There was no church building, nor society, there, and I think there was not one professor of religion in the place, so the people were abandoned to their fate. My brethren failing me, I went to God, and promised Him I would go to Adaline on a certain Friday and preach Friday night, Saturday night, and Sabbath, in the little school house, and if by Sabbath night no one had yielded, I would consider my mission at Adaline as ended. I took a few of my church to help me sing and pray, and opened the battle. That Sabbath night came, and I preached as though I was in sight of heaven and hell, and to a crowded house. I can never forget it. Having finished my appeal, I pressed any who were willing to seek God, to come to the "mourners' bench," and nobody came. I sat down and wept, while my brethren were singing, and suddenly the impression came to my heart, "There might be a child who would hear you."
I sprang to my feet with these words: "If there is a child here who wants religion, and will come to this 'mourners' bench,' I will agree to stay with you till sunrise, if need be, in order that you may be saved." And a little girl arose near the centre of the house, and came and knelt at the altar. The Holy Spirit had broken her little heart, and its door was open to receive the truth. I knelt before her with a deeper joy than Alexander had when he had conquered the world! I told! her if she would give up all sin, and give herself to God to be His child forever, that Jesus would come right there and save her. And that if she would give up every sin she would then be able to trust Jesus so easy, and as soon as she trusted Him, He would forgive her all she had ever done and fill her heart with His peace and love. And as we prayed she sprang to her feet and faced that wicked crowd, and told them what God had done for her soul. This she did without anybody suggesting it to her, and to my surprise.
How she beat me preaching! I think there was not a dry eye in that house. Sinners broke down and came and came, till my little "mourners' bench" could not hold them. Forty-eight years are gone, and I think I have never known a whole community so nearly all saved as was the community at Adaline, when those meetings closed. "A little child shall lead them."
But in the centre of that stronghold of iniquity there was a strong man armed, in the form of an old saloon-keeper. Through all the years he had held the reins and defied God and his people. As the people came to my "mourners' bench," they left his saloon and gambling den, and the man's business was ruined. I have no recollection of referring to him or his business, but he charged his calamities all to me. I heard of his threats, but one day felt drawn to go and speak to him about his soul. I met Bro. Filbrick, a young merchant who had been converted, and told him my design. He came closer to me and, laying both hands upon my shoulders, begged of me not to go, saying: "He is an old pugilist, and has even threatened your life. I know he will abuse you if you speak to him." Meeting another of the converts, he gave me the same counsel and warning.
On reaching the house next to where he lived, I talked and had prayer with the family, and as we arose from prayers the saloonkeeper's wife came in, and being introduced to her, I said: "Madam, I was on my way to see your husband and talk to him about his soul," and the dear woman burst into a flood of tears and begged me not to go! Sometimes the devil impresses God's children, in the name of the Holy Spirit, to get them into difficulty, and any soul who will follow every impression given, will surely go astray. Here seemed to be strong indications that my impression to see and speak with this old sinner might not be of God. My heart said to Jesus, Thou knowest I will obey thee at whatever cost, but these dear people think I am wrong in this impression. I will take more time, and if the impression be of Thee, make it clear in the form of conviction; if it is of Satan, drive it and him away.
The next day I was walking in a snow path, and saw the saloonkeeper walking in another that had to intersect mine, and the Holy Spirit whispered, "Now is your time." Walking slower, I was at the junction of the paths when he came. Addressing him in a kind tone of voice, I said: "Good morning, my friend," and he answered me gruffly. I added the question, "What are you doing, my friend, about your soul?" and with a loud, bitter voice, he said: "I am minding my own business and want every man to mind his," with other words I will not repeat. I responded: "That is exactly in place. I have no other business in this world but to look after lost sinners like you; so I am just in the line of my avocation!" He walked faster, and I walked faster but before that old sinner got out of my hands God enabled me to put words on his heart which he did not shake off. In the midst of wrath, he pulled up his effects and disappeared--no one seeming to know where.
Seven or eight months from that time, one Saturday afternoon I stood on an altar bench at a camp meeting thirty or forty miles away, inviting sinners to seek pardon and believers to seek holiness, and nine or eleven men, I think, came down the large centre aisle, entering the front door of altar enclosure and kneeling right and left among the seats provided; but there was a large, athletic man of about fifty years behind them, who came directly to where I stood and, looking up in my face, said: "Do you know me, sir?" His whole frame was in a quiver, and two tears stood on his cheeks. I looked at him more closely and said: "Why, I believe I saw you at Adaline." He responded: "Oh, do you remember how you talked to me about Christ, in the snow path, and how I cursed you?" I said I did. He then made the following statement in these words, as nearly as I can repeat them: "From that day till three days ago I never had one sound night's sleep; but three days ago God converted my soul in my barn! I heard of this meeting, and heard you were here, and felt I must come and tell you about it, and see if you could forgive me for the way I treated you!"
We had an informal hug and shout, and there did not seem to be anything left to forgive. What a wonderful gospel! What a wonderful Savior! The words uttered in the snow path were as simple as the talk of a Sunday school boy; but they were fastened as a nail in a sure place, and tugged at the heart of that old sinner, giving him not one sound night's sleep in seven months, and bringing him to Christ at last in his barn. Glory to the ever blessed Trinity! Amen!