



Produced by Timeless Truths Online Library, Charles Franks,
Juliet Sutherland, Joel Erickson and the DP Team











TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OF FAITH

BY MARY COLE

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the
wiles of the devil.--_Paul_.




PREFACE

The history of the world consists mainly of the stories of the lives of
certain men and women whose deeds have been of sufficient importance to
make them worth relating. The lives of some persons have been worth
narrating because of their abounding in deeds of great merit, such as the
lives of Washington, Gladstone, Frances E. Willard, and Joan of Arc. The
lives of others have been thought worth narrating because of their great
wickedness, as the lives of Nero and Queen Mary of England.

But the church too has a history. This history differs from the history of
the world, in that it does not record merely the doings of man, but the
workings of God through man as his instruments. God is a jealous God who
manifests himself only through those who are willing to give him all the
glory. Hence not many names of the wise, powerful, talented men of the
earth have been enrolled on the history of the church, since they were not
humble enough to submit fully into God's hands. In the church truly this
scripture has been proved: "God has used the weak things of the world to
confound the mighty."

Sister Mary Cole, of whose life this book is a brief, authentic sketch, had
a natural inheritance that seemed calculated to shut her forever out of a
place in the history of the world or of the church. Born with a body that
from her earliest childhood was racked with pain, deprived by ill health of
education, she seemed naturally unfitted to fill any place in the world and
doomed to be only a burden to herself and her friends. How God took her,
healed her, and fitted her for his service, and how he used her as an
instrument for his glory, is the story of her life.

The publication of the story of her life was so remote from her thoughts
that it was only by the solicitation of some one who had been greatly
helped by her faith and experience and the workings of God through her, and
who was unwilling that her trials and triumphs should be lost as a part of
the history of the church, that she was prevailed upon to write this brief
narrative of her life and work. The story of her life would not, indeed, be
worth telling were it stripped of the manifestations of God's power. As you
read this simple story, you will see clearly that, as Sister Cole has
herself expressed so many times, what she is she is by God's grace, and
that all she has accomplished she has accomplished through God's power. If
you will take at their value the oft-repeated expressions, "God told me,"
"God spoke to me," "God made me to understand," realizing that these words
tell us something that actually happened, you will get some idea of how
marvelously God can use even the weakest members of the human race.

Aside from the interest this brief history will have for those readers who
have had the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with Sister Cole and who
have had the privilege of listening to her stirring messages delivered
under the anointing of God's Spirit, it can not fail to interest and profit
all who take pleasure in reading about the dealings of God with man.

It is the sincere wish of the author and of all those who had a hand in
preparing this work, that it will show some their greater privileges in the
kingdom of God, and that it will help some to covet the divine help,
guidance, and power that are the heritage of all God's children.

J.W.P.




CONTENTS

I. Birth and Ancestry

II. Early Afflictions

III. Incidents of Childhood

IV. Events During the War

V. Conversion and Sanctification

VI. Events of Early Christian Life

VII. My Call to the Ministry

VIII. Seven Years of Preparation

IX. Healed by Divine Power

X. Entering the Gospel Field

XI. Laboring in a New Field

XII. Out of Sectarian Confusion

XIII. The Evening Light

XIV. Various Experiences in Gospel Work

XV. Various Experiences--Continued

XVI. God's Care Over Me

XVII. My California Trip

XVIII. Visiting Relatives in the East

XIX. Mission Work in Chicago

XX. A Battle With Smallpox

XXI. Camp-Meetings in Various States

XXII. Caring for My Aged Mother

XXIII. Exhortation to Workers and Ministers




POEMS

Birthday Lines in Memory of February 5, 1822

The Refiner's Fire




Chapter I

Birth and Ancestry

Like many other people of European descent, born in this country, I can
trace my ancestry back to their emigration from Europe; but being so far
removed from European environment, my nationality can best be expressed by
the short but comprehensive term, American.

My father was born in Hunterdon County, New Jersey. He was a descendant of
the German Hessians who were brought to this country by the English to
fight against the Americans in the Revolutionary War. It is said that from
his mother's side he inherited a small portion of Turkish blood. Father's
childhood days were spent near some of the Revolutionary battle-fields,
where he played with cannon balls that had been used during that great
struggle. Perhaps his early surroundings may have developed in him the
spirit of partiotism that manifested itself later when, during the Civil
War, he stood by his country and defended the stars and stripes.

My mother was born in Ohio near the Pennsylvania border, but was reared in
Carroll County, Ohio.

Her father, whose name was Fleming, was of Scotch-Irish descent. His
ancestors came from Ireland at an early day and settled first in
Pennsylvania, and later in Ohio. When Mother's great-grandfather and his
cousin came over from Ireland and landed in New York, they heard a parrot
talking. It said, "A beggar and a clodhopper; a beggar and a clodhopper."
They had never heard of a parrot before. The great-grandfather said to his
cousin, "Pat, Pat, what kind of a world have we got into? Aven the burds of
the woods are making fun of us."

My mother's mother was of German descent, and could speak the German
language; but she died when mother was but a small child. Very soon
afterward Mother's father married an Irish lady by the name of Margret
Potter. Mother's stepmother took her drams, had dances, etc.; but Mother
was spiritually inclined. In her eighteenth year while attending a
Methodist meeting, she was convicted of her sins. She was not saved at the
meeting, but prayed through by herself to an experience. God revealed
himself to her in a marvelous way and gave her the witness that she was
born of him.

Mother's father was a Universalist until after she was grown. At that time,
although he had never professed a change of heart, he joined the Christian
church. Mother's steady Christian character was, therefore, developed
without human encouragement; she got help from no one but God. Her older
sister said to her one day, "Rebecca, our dear mother died a Universalist;
are you going to forsake her faith?" Mother answered, "If Mother did the
best she knew, that is between her and her God; it is my duty to do the
best I know." Later this sister joined the Catholic Church and finally died
in the Catholic home for widows.

I was born August 23, 1853, the seventh of a family of twelve
children--eight sons and four daughters. Two died before the last two were
born, so that there were never more than ten of us living at the same time.

The oldest child was Jeremiah. Mother said that at his birth she gave him
to the Lord, and prayed earnestly that God would make him like Jeremiah of
old. God chose him for the ministry, and he died triumphant in the faith.
He discerned the one body, the church, from the time the truth of the unity
of God's people was first preached. His body lies in the cemetery near
Hammond, Louisiana.

The second child was John. He enlisted in the army and gave his life for
his country. Out of this family of twelve children, God chose three for the
ministry: one of these has gone to his reward and the other two remain to
work for the Master.

At the time of my birth, my parents lived on a farm adjoining the town of
Decatur, in the State of Iowa. Later the town was enlarged until it
included Father's farm, which was sold for town lots. My parents remained
in Iowa until I was a year old, and then moved to Illinois, where they
remained for two years. When I was three years old, they settled in Pettis
County, Missouri, near the town of Belmont, afterwards called Windsor. It
was there that I spent my childhood and the years of my young womanhood.




Chapter II

Early Afflictions

  "Misery stole me at my birth
  And cast me helpless on the wild."

The words of this hymn express my condition from my first advent into the
world. My mother had overworked before I was born; and, as a result, I
suffered bodily affliction from infancy. I was scarely two years old when I
began having spasms. My eyes would roll back in my head, I would froth at
the mouth, the tendons of my jaws would draw, causing me to bite my cheeks
until the blood ran from my mouth, and I would become unconscious. Although
I would remain unconscious for only a short time, yet while I lay in that
condition I seemed as one dead. Upon regaining consciousness, I seemed
dazed all the rest of that day; and not until I had had a night's sleep,
did I have a clear perception of what was going on around me. Sometimes two
or three days would pass before I was fully restored.

I hada number of these spansm when I was too young to know anything about
them. The first one of which I remember, I begain to turn blind and did not
know what was the matter; but I soon learned the nature of my affliction. I
had to be very careful what I did. If I exposed myself to the direct rays
of the sun or even looked straight at the sun, I was likely to have a
spasm; if I drank sweet milk it was likely to have the same result.

When I quit school at the age of ten years and had nothing to occupy my
mind, my thoughts centered on my suffering and the frequency of my spasms
seemed to increase. After having a spasm my mind was greatly afflicted with
melancholy and depression. I dreaded the recurrence of the fits, and looked
forward to their coming with such abhorrence that often the fear of having
a spasm would bring on the very thing I dreaded.

From the time I can first recollect, most of my life was spent in sadness
and disappointment. It seemed as if my whole being were a mass of suffering
and affliction. The doctor said there was nothing sound about me but my
lungs. Most of my time I appeared to be nothing but a voice. So far as I
remember, not one day of that period of my life was passed without pain and
suffering. My high temper, of course, added mental suffering to the
physical.

Many times I wondered why I could not die. My suffering was greatly
increased by melancholy and mental depression. I often sat beside my mother
and cried, "Mother, why can't I die? Why did I not die when I was a child?
I am a trial to myself and to all around me." Mother would say, "Mary, God
has a bright design in all this. We do not know the reason why you are so
afflicted, but we will know sometime." With such comforting words she many
times soothed my troubled spirit. God blessed me with a dear Christian
mother. Her gentle, patient life--so loving and Christlike--stamped upon my
soul in early childhood the ideal of real Christian character. I had before
me constantly an example of what I ought to be. As I look back at those
days, my association with my mother seems to have been the only bright spot
in my early life.

At six years of age I began to have dyspepsia, and as a result, could eat
but very little food without suffering. Up to this time and later, I could
walk a mile or more; but was liable at any time to have a fit. When about
twelve or thirteen years of age, other afflictions set in, such as spinal
and female trouble.

In my fifteenth year I became a helpless invalid, and lay in bed for five
months at one time. When I first became helpless, I thought I was dying. I
knew if I went into eternity as I then was I would be lost, and suffered
terrible mental anguish. My dear mother came to my bedside with comforting
words: "Mary, put your trust in the Lord." I could move neither hand nor
foot but could only say, "Mother, I am trying to," knowing at the same time
that I was not capable of meeting the conditions--repentance, etc., I
decided that I would not tell Mother nor any one else that I felt that I
was lost, even if I died in that condition; but God in his mercy saw fit to
lengthen out my life.

Viewed from the standpoint of mature life, those early years remind me of
the experience of the Israel-ites when they came to Marah, where the waters
were bitter, and where Moses put something into the bitter waters to make
them sweet. In my unsaved condition, I was at Marah; but when the Lord
saved my soul, he put something into the bitter stream of my life that made
it sweet, and I can truly say, "My December is as pleasant as May: my
summer lasts all the year." Yes, I can now obey God's Word: "Rejoice
evermore; pray without ceasing; and in everything give thanks" (1
Thessalonians 5:14-16). Oh, what a wonderful change God wrought! It is all
through grace divine; for the promise is, "All things work together for
good to them that love God."




Chapter III

Incidents of Childhood

The old home farm near Windsor, Missouri, where I spent my childhood and
early womanhood, was heavily timbered on the west and the south. There was
also a good-sized apple orchard north of the house and a number of
beautiful shade trees in the yard, which gave the place a homelike
appearance. The house was very ordinary--just a large front room, a large
bedroom, an attic large enough for three or four beds, and a large log
kitchen.

In those days, and even until long after the Civil War, the houses were
lighted mostly by candles. The old-fashioned fireplace gave us both light
and heat in the rooms where they were, and made very pleasant the long
winter evenings. Of course, in many ways they were not equal to our modern
improvements, but we had some very happy times around the old fireplace.
Mother made the candles we used, in molds especially designed for that
purpose. I will not soon forget how I used to watch her put in the cotton
wick, tie it at a certain place, and then melt and pour in the tallow. As
soon as the tallow cooled, we had candles. Sometimes when we had no
candles, we used what was called a grease lamp. This was merely a saucer
with a little grease in it and a twisted rag, the greater part of which lay
in the grease in the bottom of the saucer. The end which extended up over
the edge of the saucer was lighted, and this device served as a lamp until
Mother could make more candles.

Near the house was a garden from which Mother used often to gather bouquets
to cheer me in my lonely hours. These loving acts of Mother's meant much to
me in my affliction. Jesus said that the gift of a cup of cold water will
be rewarded. I am sure that Mother's reward will be great.

When I was about five or six years old, an incident occurred which shows
that I, although greatly afflicted, was not altogether wanting in activity.
Two of my older sisters and I were playing on a shed adjoining one side of
the corn-crib. My sisters wanted to jump off the shed, but were a little
afraid to do so for fear they would hurt themselves. They finally decided
that they would have me jump first, and if it did not hurt me, then they
would jump. Little as I was, I understood their scheme. Nevertheless, I
jumped. It hurt me quite a little; but when they asked me if I was hurt, I
said, "No." Thinking then, that it would not hurt them, they jumped but
they were considerably hurt too. Again they asked if it hurt me, and I
admitted that it had. "Why did you not tell us?" "Because," I replied, "you
were playing off on me because I am the youngest, and I would not let you
know, so that you would have a chance to get hurt too."

One morning when I was about six years old, I was going to school in
company with my brothers and sisters and other children who went the same
road. It was late in the fall, and a heavy rain that had recently fallen,
made the narrow lane through which we were obliged to pass, very muddy.
Cattle had made deep tracks in the mud, in which the water had collected
and then frozen. The bubbles underneath the ice had the appearance of
money, and we children ran along looking at the bubbles, and saying "I have
found some money." All at once I was sure that I did see a real coin under
the ice at the bottom of one of the holes. When I called out "I have found
some money," my brothers came quickly to investigate; and, sure enough,
there was a fifty-cent piece stuck to the rim of an old pocket book. It had
lain there so long that the leather had all rotted away. I was so delighted
and spent so much time in enjoying the treasure I had found that I learned
but very little that day.

One of my earliest recollections is of committing these lines to memory:

"In His pure eyes it is a sin To steal