A Drunken Man Sobered and Saved

Father and Mother were holding meetings at . . . I have said in some previous writings, Bently school house, but if I have the incidents correct in my mind, it could not have been Bently, for I remember when Mother told me that the test about “Delia has fallen in the cistern”. She said they drove home after meeting that night having to drive 16 miles.

Be that as it may be, God was wonderfully helping Father preach the truth. People came to the meetings for miles around. A short distance from the place of worship lived a man by the name of Steve Moore. He was a very rough wicked man, a drinking man. His wife would go with him to Flint when he went if she could manage to get him to 21allow her to go. If lw %vent alone, he came home with a bottle of whiskey. If she went with him she could sometimes manage to get him to buy flour, sugar, and tea before he got drunk. But it was no unusual thing to see Mrs. Moore plodding along the roadside for home while Steve drove along in the buggy drunk, oh so drunk, and imagining his poor wife %vas the cause of his troubles.

How she managed it, I hardly know, but as God commenced to come in awful power, Mrs. Moore attended services. She heard of the great love of God and his power to save, and she sought and found the Lord to the joy of her own ever burdened heart. She heard the call, “Come unto me all ye who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give thee rest.” As peace and joy filled her soul, she shouted the praises of God.

Steve heard about this and was ‘’ery angry. He vowed he was surely going to horse whip the preacher. He went to Flint and filled up at the saloon and also brought home a bottle. The pilgrims and others warned Father, but Father’s help was in one who is AI’mighty.

They gathered at the hour of worship. Some of the men took seats near Father, in order to protect him should need arise. They commenced the song and prayer service, when sure enough, in walked Steve Moore. He was a huge man, tall, broad, wearing bushy whiskers and being dressed in rough garments. He wore a buffalo coat. He carried in his hand a black snake whip.

The people were alarmed for Father, but at the close of the hymn he called on Mother to pray. “Jesus heard and angels assembled and came down to answer her prayer.” Then Father prayed—oh yes, power was felt when Father thus prayed. He arose. took his text and told the people how Jesus loved them and urged them to forsake sin and seek Christ. He finally asked them to sing the invitation hymn. They stood and Mother started that old hymn, “Come ye sinners poor and needy, weak and wounded, sick and sore. Jesus ready stands to save you, full of pity, love and power.”

Steve Moore laid down his whip and started for the front. Now, thought the people, the time has come. Steve means to drag Brother Haight out doors and thrash him. But to ..!ter surprise the big man fell on his knees at the alter. Mother sang on, ‘Turn to ,t and seek salvation, sound the praise of his dear name. Glory, honor, and :n. Christ the Lord has come to save.”

Now Mother paused, for a voice seemed to speak to her and say, “Go and kneel down beside Mr. Moore.” “Oh”, said Mother, “He is just a dreadful man, Lord.” “Yes”, s;.i.id the Lord. “He is a dreadful man, but I am a wonderful Saviour.” Mother walked slowly up the aisle singing, “Let not conscience make you linger, nor of fitness fondly dream. All the fitness He requires is to feel your need of Him.” She knelt down by the side of this terrible man. “Now”, the voice said, “Put your hand on Mr. Moores shoulder”. And she did just for a moment. Now, in most cases, yes in nearly every case, I don’t believe a woman should lay her hand on a man, or a man on a woman. Mother thought this and acted accordingly, but in this one case God demanded it. As she touched him, he tuned with a start and drew back as he said, “Oh, Mrs. Haight, I am a dreadful man.” “Yes”, said Mother. “Mr. Moore, you are a dreadful man, but oh, Sir, we have a wonderful Saviour. His precious blood can make the vilest sinner clean.” Moore at once commenced to cry for mercy and Mother to cry to God for him. When all at once the evil one, not wanting to lose his prey, spoke to Mother and said, “Delia has fallen in the cistern.” Mother stopped praying and settled back weak and trembling.

It seems there was a trap indeed in the Richfield Center cottage, a place that always caused Mother much anxiety. A cistern was under the kitchen and a trap door opened in the floor where the water was to be drawn up. I was a toddling baby by then. I was home with Libbie and the rest.

Mother roused herself with supreme effort and she told me in after years, “I said right out loud, ‘I can’t help it Mister Devil if Delia has fallen into the cistern. I could not reach there in time to help her if I tried. If she is dead, she is an angel with my Lord, but 22here is a lost soul,” and she commenced again earnestly to pray, -Lord, save Mr. Moore”. And true to His promise He that cometh unto me I will not turn away. Steve Moore was grandly saved.

I remember in after years when I was old enough to remember of hearing Steve Moore testify, and tell his experience. Surely it paved. Oh how it payed.