Showing posts with label Ruth Fuller Grings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ruth Fuller Grings. Show all posts
26 September 2010
A Life for God in India: Jennie Frow Fuller
I just came across the digitalized account of Jennie Frow Fuller's life, by Helen Dyer. It was written using the testimony of family, friends, and Mrs. Fuller's own pen. A Life for God in India should be a worthwhile use of your time. Jennie Frow married Marcus Fuller, who was the uncle of Ruth Fuller Grings; she and her husband were servants of God in India in the years and decades preceding and following the turn of the twentieth century.
16 February 2010
John Lathrop: ancestor of the Fullers - selections from a paper written for a class in Baptist History
John Lathrop (Lothrop) was born in 1584 in Etton, Yorkshire, England, and he was baptized on December 20, 1584 into the Church of England. His parents were Thomas and Mary (Salte) Lathrop, and his family had lived in Yorkshire for generations. Nothing is really known about his childhood. When he was twenty-two, his father died in Etton (Price 2). This occurred while he was enrolled as a student at Cambridge. He enrolled in Queen’s College in 1601, receiving a BA in 1605, and his MA in 1609 (Rev. John 1). On Dec. 20, 1607, he was “ordained a deacon by the Bishop of Lincoln”, and he began to minister as the curate in Bennington, Hertfordshire (Price 2). After receiving his M. A. in 1609, Lathrop was appointed the curate of Egerton, Kent, about 50 miles from London. While serving in this position, he married the Hannah Howse on Oct. 10, 1610. She was the rector’s daughter from the neighboring parish (Price 2).
For about fourteen years, Rev. Lathrop served faithfully in this post. However, for several years, the English monarchs had been trying to bring all of England into religious conformity. Finally in 1623, the requirements set up by the king became too much for Rev. Lathrop, and he left the Church of England. The following year, he accepted the call to become the pastor of the First Independent (Congregational) Church in London. The founder and former pastor of this church was Henry Jacobs who had spent several years in Holland with John Robinson and had been influenced by Robinson concerning separation from the state church (Torbet 41). When Jacobs had returned to England from Holland, he had founded the First Independent Church in Southwark, London, in 1616. However, in 1622, he resigned his position and sailed to Virginia (Torbet 41).
For eight years, Rev. Lathrop and the congregation at Southwark held services. However, they constantly had to watch out for the men of Archbishop William Laud for what they were doing was theoretically illegal. Eventually, the archbishop sent spies to search out where Lathrop and his church were worshipping. Thus, on April 29, 1632, as the First Independent Church met in the house of Humphrey Barnet, the hirelings of Laud set upon them (McBeth 23). Laud’s men arrested the Reverend John Lathrop along with forty-one members of his congregation. For almost two years, these people were kept in Newgate Prison (“Rev. John” 1). By the spring of 1634, the congregation had all been released, but Lathrop was kept imprisoned. During this time in prison, Lathrop came to the conclusion that the ceremonialism that was so widely practiced by the Anglican Church was idolatry (Tribulations 4). On Sept. 12, 1633, during Lathrop’s time in prison, the church underwent a split (McBeth 24). This was an amiable split caused by a division over whether or not the parish churches were real churches and whether or not to baptize infants (Vedder 206; Tribulations 4). This split-off church was composed of about seventeen members and was led by Samuel Eaton and John Spilsbury. This church was the “first Particular Baptist church in England” (Vedder 206).
In the spring of 1634, Hannah Lathrop died, leaving John with the care of seven children, ages five to eighteen (Price 3). On April 24, 1634, Rev. Lathrop was given permission to go into foreign exile. He and thirty-two members of his congregation sailed for the New World in the Griffin. The Griffin reached Boston on Sept. 18, 1634. A point of minor interest is that the famed Anne Hutchinson made her voyage across the Atlantic with Lathrop (Tribulations 4). On the 27th of September, the little congregation made its way to the village of Scituate, MA, and there they setup their abode. In this new country, Rev. Lathrop was well received; and at least twice, Governor Winthrop recorded favorable notes about him in his journal (Price 4).
It appears that those who were already in Scituate knew of Rev. Lathrop and that some of them may have previously been members of his congregation in Kent (“Rev. John” 2). It seems that on January 19, 1635, John Lathrop was chosen as the pastor of the church at Scituate. The reason for the confusion of when this occurred is that the primary source for this dating is a journal entry of Rev. Lathrop’s. This entry is confusing because of the fact that he gives the year as 1634; however, as he was in England at that time, this is clearly impossible (“Rev. John” 2). During his time in Scituate, Rev. Lathrop remarried; his wife’s name was Ann, and they were married by June 14, 1635. His children grew up and began to spread out considerably. His daughter Jane married Samuel Fuller, a young man who had come over on the Mayflower. (They were married by Captain Miles Standish.)
For five years, Rev. Lathrop ministered at Scituate, and then, divisions began arising about baptism and its forms. Thus, in 1639, Lathrop (and those of his congregation who, like him, believed in sprinkling instead of immersion) moved to Barnstable, MA (Christian 364). It appears that Lathrop never wavered on this point for in 1644, Christian records that Lathrop wrote “A Short Form of Catechisme of the Doctrine of Baptisme. In use in these Times that are so full of Questions” (364). Evidently, this document did not receive wide circulation, for there do not appear to be any surviving copies of the manuscript.
About twenty-two members of Lathrop’s congregation followed him to Barnstable, MA (Price 5). These were people who were much like the Pilgrims were in search of a Promised Land. They brought their goods and settled on tracts of lands that they could pass on to their children. They arrived in their settlement on October 11, 1639; and ten days later they celebrated God’s goodness to them by declaring a day of public “fasting, humiliation, and prayer” (“Rev. John” 6). On December 11, they held another day of religious activity, this time the emphasis was on worshipping and thanking God for that which He had done for them. This small band of pioneers were simple men and women who lived joyfully raising their children peaceably; these were not malicious fanatics intent on breaking tradition and forming new sects. They had two primary guides; the one was their conscience and the other, their pastor. It is quite remarkable that Rev. Lathrop inspired such trust and devotion in his people that many of those who were in his final congregation at Barnstable had come over from Southwark with him. This is a great tribute to a man who lived a life of intense purity and who was willing to change his views on various subjects when he saw from the Scripture that he was in error.
John Lathrop lived out his days in the town that he was so vital in starting. On November 8, 1653, the Reverend John Lathrop died (Tribulation 4). He had ministered to the very end. In his will, he left provision for each of his family and also for his library to be divided up among a number of people (“Rev. John” 8). His house still stands today and is part of the Sturgis Library in Barnstable, MA; this library also houses his Bible that he brought over from England. However, perhaps the greatest testimony to his life are those who descended from him, some were great men of character, while others were charlatans; some earned great honor, and a couple great disgrace. These included Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Benedict Arnold, Adlai Stevenson, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Ulysses S. Grant, Joseph Smith, Eli Whitney, George H. W. Bush, J. P. Morgan, Henry W. Longfellow, Ruth Fuller Grings, and her daughter Louise Grings Champlin. Yes, it is in the lives of these descendants, and in the ways that he helped shape a nation that John Lathrop left his stamp upon the land.
For about fourteen years, Rev. Lathrop served faithfully in this post. However, for several years, the English monarchs had been trying to bring all of England into religious conformity. Finally in 1623, the requirements set up by the king became too much for Rev. Lathrop, and he left the Church of England. The following year, he accepted the call to become the pastor of the First Independent (Congregational) Church in London. The founder and former pastor of this church was Henry Jacobs who had spent several years in Holland with John Robinson and had been influenced by Robinson concerning separation from the state church (Torbet 41). When Jacobs had returned to England from Holland, he had founded the First Independent Church in Southwark, London, in 1616. However, in 1622, he resigned his position and sailed to Virginia (Torbet 41).
For eight years, Rev. Lathrop and the congregation at Southwark held services. However, they constantly had to watch out for the men of Archbishop William Laud for what they were doing was theoretically illegal. Eventually, the archbishop sent spies to search out where Lathrop and his church were worshipping. Thus, on April 29, 1632, as the First Independent Church met in the house of Humphrey Barnet, the hirelings of Laud set upon them (McBeth 23). Laud’s men arrested the Reverend John Lathrop along with forty-one members of his congregation. For almost two years, these people were kept in Newgate Prison (“Rev. John” 1). By the spring of 1634, the congregation had all been released, but Lathrop was kept imprisoned. During this time in prison, Lathrop came to the conclusion that the ceremonialism that was so widely practiced by the Anglican Church was idolatry (Tribulations 4). On Sept. 12, 1633, during Lathrop’s time in prison, the church underwent a split (McBeth 24). This was an amiable split caused by a division over whether or not the parish churches were real churches and whether or not to baptize infants (Vedder 206; Tribulations 4). This split-off church was composed of about seventeen members and was led by Samuel Eaton and John Spilsbury. This church was the “first Particular Baptist church in England” (Vedder 206).
In the spring of 1634, Hannah Lathrop died, leaving John with the care of seven children, ages five to eighteen (Price 3). On April 24, 1634, Rev. Lathrop was given permission to go into foreign exile. He and thirty-two members of his congregation sailed for the New World in the Griffin. The Griffin reached Boston on Sept. 18, 1634. A point of minor interest is that the famed Anne Hutchinson made her voyage across the Atlantic with Lathrop (Tribulations 4). On the 27th of September, the little congregation made its way to the village of Scituate, MA, and there they setup their abode. In this new country, Rev. Lathrop was well received; and at least twice, Governor Winthrop recorded favorable notes about him in his journal (Price 4).
It appears that those who were already in Scituate knew of Rev. Lathrop and that some of them may have previously been members of his congregation in Kent (“Rev. John” 2). It seems that on January 19, 1635, John Lathrop was chosen as the pastor of the church at Scituate. The reason for the confusion of when this occurred is that the primary source for this dating is a journal entry of Rev. Lathrop’s. This entry is confusing because of the fact that he gives the year as 1634; however, as he was in England at that time, this is clearly impossible (“Rev. John” 2). During his time in Scituate, Rev. Lathrop remarried; his wife’s name was Ann, and they were married by June 14, 1635. His children grew up and began to spread out considerably. His daughter Jane married Samuel Fuller, a young man who had come over on the Mayflower. (They were married by Captain Miles Standish.)
For five years, Rev. Lathrop ministered at Scituate, and then, divisions began arising about baptism and its forms. Thus, in 1639, Lathrop (and those of his congregation who, like him, believed in sprinkling instead of immersion) moved to Barnstable, MA (Christian 364). It appears that Lathrop never wavered on this point for in 1644, Christian records that Lathrop wrote “A Short Form of Catechisme of the Doctrine of Baptisme. In use in these Times that are so full of Questions” (364). Evidently, this document did not receive wide circulation, for there do not appear to be any surviving copies of the manuscript.
About twenty-two members of Lathrop’s congregation followed him to Barnstable, MA (Price 5). These were people who were much like the Pilgrims were in search of a Promised Land. They brought their goods and settled on tracts of lands that they could pass on to their children. They arrived in their settlement on October 11, 1639; and ten days later they celebrated God’s goodness to them by declaring a day of public “fasting, humiliation, and prayer” (“Rev. John” 6). On December 11, they held another day of religious activity, this time the emphasis was on worshipping and thanking God for that which He had done for them. This small band of pioneers were simple men and women who lived joyfully raising their children peaceably; these were not malicious fanatics intent on breaking tradition and forming new sects. They had two primary guides; the one was their conscience and the other, their pastor. It is quite remarkable that Rev. Lathrop inspired such trust and devotion in his people that many of those who were in his final congregation at Barnstable had come over from Southwark with him. This is a great tribute to a man who lived a life of intense purity and who was willing to change his views on various subjects when he saw from the Scripture that he was in error.
John Lathrop lived out his days in the town that he was so vital in starting. On November 8, 1653, the Reverend John Lathrop died (Tribulation 4). He had ministered to the very end. In his will, he left provision for each of his family and also for his library to be divided up among a number of people (“Rev. John” 8). His house still stands today and is part of the Sturgis Library in Barnstable, MA; this library also houses his Bible that he brought over from England. However, perhaps the greatest testimony to his life are those who descended from him, some were great men of character, while others were charlatans; some earned great honor, and a couple great disgrace. These included Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Benedict Arnold, Adlai Stevenson, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Ulysses S. Grant, Joseph Smith, Eli Whitney, George H. W. Bush, J. P. Morgan, Henry W. Longfellow, Ruth Fuller Grings, and her daughter Louise Grings Champlin. Yes, it is in the lives of these descendants, and in the ways that he helped shape a nation that John Lathrop left his stamp upon the land.
05 December 2009
Ruth Fuller Grings - born 121 years ago
In Africa, Ruth served selflessly teaching and evangelizing. She was independently wealthy and had purposed to use what God had given her for the advancement of the Gospel unto places where it was unknown. After two years of serving singly, Ruth married a young man named Herbert Grings whom she had met when they sailed to Africa together. Together they continued to open new areas for the preaching of the Gospel.
Over the next 14 years, Ruth and Herbert had six children, one of whom died of malaria. Consistently, for their seventeen years of marriage, this couple labored side-by-side to advance the Gospel whether in the Belgian Congo or in the United States. In 1936, at the age of 47, Ruth died of blackwater fever; she left a witness even in her death. Those who saw her family mourn saw that the Gospel which they preached was good, not for this life only, but also for the one to come. What does it matter if her grave was just a hollow log covered by dried bricks? In eternity, her life is safe with her Savior, and she will sing with those whom she helped to tell of the Lamb who had died for their souls.
17 July 2008
Heartbeats: Ruth Fuller Grings
While we have already spoken of the homegoing of (great) Uncle Mark, it seems appropriate now to summarize the lives of his parents. My grandmother, Louise Grings Champlin, wrote this in 1986, and it was published in a pamphlet called Missionary Heartbeats. - Matthew
"Like a candle burning lower and lower her life burned out." Thus penned my father that June 21, 1936 Sunday afternoon, of my mother's escort into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It doesn't take much imagination to sense the sorrow of heart that filled the scene of this wordless departure.
Hidden away, a thousand miles interior in the jungles of the then Belgian Congo, Africa, the father and five children gathered around the table of that small mud brick house to share their grief and comfort themselves from the Word. But not for long! There was only ourselves to take care of the burial arrangements. A report had to be made to the government, a grave dug and a coffin provided. With no boards available one of the hollowed-out logs used for catching rain water from the thatch roof would have to serve.
The illness that took her life is known as black water fever, because there is hemorrhaging through the kidneys. The simple facts are quickly told. She had been out on an extended village trip, made by bicycle over rough forest trails. Exposed to mosquitoes, she returned home and came down with malaria, which unexpectedly developed into the more complicated form. How we prayed! And she seemed to recover.
An emergency call from our nearest village to assist in a delivery brought her willing response. However, her weakened system was overtaxed. She took to bed, slipped into unconsciousness and all too soon her life drained away. Now it was up to her loved ones to lay her worn-out body to rest, assuredly awaiting that glorious shout, the voice of the archangel, the trump of God! It was this blessed fact that carried the family through the final ministrations.
A service was held in the little chapel next to the station village. The close-to-petrified villagers assembled stunned and skeptical. Death was such a dreaded enemy! How desperately they had tried to escape it! How often they had offered sacrifices and sought to appease the aggrieved spirits ... all to no avail, as victim after victim succumbed to death's fatal snatch. And now, here was the white woman no more able than they to free herself from its grip. Indeed, it looked hopeless and dark!
But what were they witnessing? Could they believe their eyes? Their ears? The family was not throwing themselves on the ground in frantic contortions with pleas to be spared! Here were six people, composed, standing before them and saying, "We do not fear death! This is not the end! Our mother is with the Lord Jesus in heaven, and we will some day be with her and see her again! Trusting Christ as our personal Saviour assures us of forgiveness of sins and life with Him." But, the people were in a state of shock and could not comprehend what was enacted before their eyes.
The crude log with its dear remains was lowered into that stark void. Heavy scoops of yellow earth fell one upon another. No hand was extended to aid in service. A lifetime of bondage to fear held them securely and when the grave was covered, they left without a word to go back to their huts, their understanding still unenlightened. A lonely grave, but known to God! "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." When the dead in Christ are raised, life will come into action there in that solitary internment and death will have been swallowed up in victory!!
(Great-grandmother's sun-dried brick grave - 1936)
That is the future, but the on-going story was quickly forthcoming. Five young men who most often came to be taught by Mother, regardless of irregularity and inconvenience of time or day, to our surprise showed up saying the wanted to believe. When we questioned this decision, their response was, "Now we know that believing in Christ is good for dying. What you preached these years sounded good for living, but we didn't know it would help a death's advent."
They had witnessed no fear. Instead they saw calmness, confidence, the reality of the truth they'd heard. Now they were sure! And they believed, were baptized, and the cycle continued as they told what great things the Lord had done for them. A corn of wheat fell into the ground ... and died ...
Let us go back briefly to where it all began Ruth Geraldine Fuller was born in the small town of Garretsville, Ohio, December 5, 1888. Her folks had a small farm where an older brother, sister, and herself grew up, attending church and living exemplary lives. God's call singled out Ruth and she went to Moody Bible Institute. Her folks moved to Bozeman, Montana as missionaries to the Indians. And Ruth after graduation in 1910, fit right in as school teacher. Excellent preparation for the next step to Africa in 1917 with the Africa Inland Mission.
This was the time of pioneering missions and no well-developed station with comfortable housing awaited the new arrival. But she had purpose and she had come to serve! It didn't take her long, wherever she was assigned, to get a group of children together and start teaching them, while at the same time learning their language, her dedication didn't escape notice. A fellow missionary, an enthusiastic young man, Herbert E. Grings, had been much used in opening new stations for couples to develop. When he wearied of this single man's task, it was the field director who suggested to him that a very suitable helpmeet was already God-sent.
And so their lives blended and God gave them wonderful years of service there in eastern Congo, as well as four children. Furlough time came and they settled for awhile in Florida. Always quick to find areas of service for the Lord, they were soon starting Sunday Schools and establishing churches. Two more children came along, but the death of their last born in Africa roused then hearts to return to that country.
June of 1933 found them again on their way to the Congo. It was a trip much fraught with danger and delay, including the sinking of the first ship and loss of all their outfit and equipment. They held to their commitment, however and Christmas found them in a village, deep in the tangled forest of that central African country. Again, it was a rugged way of life bare necessities and few, if any, conveniences. What, woman of God Ruth was! Truly, whatsoever her hand found to do, she did it with her might! How blest we, her children, were with her patient and persistent teaching and example. Her larger mission family never lacked her time and assistance either. She was not one to spare herself always doing for others whether it was testifying the gospel of the grace of God, or making a dress for her little girl's stuffed doll.
(Biking to a village service)
How frugal she had to be! There was no specified amount of monthly support coming in regularly. Ingenuity was essential to meet necessities, make gifts, or have little surprises. No stores were near where purchases could be made. How deft she was with her hand-turned sewing machine! Last year's clothes had to be lengthened and made do for another stretch. No refrigerator or stove ...yet we had smoked meat sun dried tropical fruit, our own cereals from rice and corn, home ground peanut butter and delicious banana jelly made without sugar.
She attended well to these physical and material matters, but how careful she also was with our spiritual and mental development. The Bible was our "First Reader." A thorough familiarity of phonics prepared us to handle mature reading. It was upon completion of the Gospel of John that this writer's heart was deeply moved by the suffering and sacrifice of Christ's death on the cross. A wise mother's application - "It was for YOU" and going back to chapter one verse twelve, "Believe, receive, become a child of God" that led to a personal acceptance of God's gift of salvation and placement in His family by the age of seven.
Discipline was consistent - no one "got by" with things. Authority was well respected. There was order and organization and cleanliness. What can I more say of this woman whose price was far above rubies whose mouth opened with wisdom and spoke with kindness, who looked well to her own household, but whose hands were outstretched to the needy? Strength and honour are Still a robe about her and true the prediction "She shat rejoice in time to come." We hasten to "give her the fruit of her hands" that "her own works may praise her in the gates."
To close this tribute, let me submit what characterized her life. On the bare, whitewashed walls of our mud brick home, written on the back side of last year's calendar in a school mom's neat script, was this earnest prayer.
How well this was exemplified in her daily living! How "soon" (only 48) was Christ filling her vision: the "glory excelling" her portion. And ... we were left to carry on ... We stayed on for ten more years. Home, with all its ties was given up and we lived from village to village full time. The door of salvation opened by the death of a missionary in their midst, now yielded fruit in abundance. Believers sprang up in many of the villages, baptisms followed and the establishing of churches. The "going forth" had been with weeping, but God gave the sheaves bearing time with rejoicing!
Now, FIFTY years later the story is still unfolding! Daddy was called to glory in 1977. The children are continuing the "family business" on three continents. Eleven grandchildren and ten great grandchildren share the heritage.
---------
Ruth Geraldine Fuller Grings
1888-1936
Graduation: from Moody Bible Institute 1910
___________
1888-1936
Graduation: from Moody Bible Institute 1910
___________
"Like a candle burning lower and lower her life burned out." Thus penned my father that June 21, 1936 Sunday afternoon, of my mother's escort into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It doesn't take much imagination to sense the sorrow of heart that filled the scene of this wordless departure.Hidden away, a thousand miles interior in the jungles of the then Belgian Congo, Africa, the father and five children gathered around the table of that small mud brick house to share their grief and comfort themselves from the Word. But not for long! There was only ourselves to take care of the burial arrangements. A report had to be made to the government, a grave dug and a coffin provided. With no boards available one of the hollowed-out logs used for catching rain water from the thatch roof would have to serve.
The illness that took her life is known as black water fever, because there is hemorrhaging through the kidneys. The simple facts are quickly told. She had been out on an extended village trip, made by bicycle over rough forest trails. Exposed to mosquitoes, she returned home and came down with malaria, which unexpectedly developed into the more complicated form. How we prayed! And she seemed to recover.
An emergency call from our nearest village to assist in a delivery brought her willing response. However, her weakened system was overtaxed. She took to bed, slipped into unconsciousness and all too soon her life drained away. Now it was up to her loved ones to lay her worn-out body to rest, assuredly awaiting that glorious shout, the voice of the archangel, the trump of God! It was this blessed fact that carried the family through the final ministrations.
A service was held in the little chapel next to the station village. The close-to-petrified villagers assembled stunned and skeptical. Death was such a dreaded enemy! How desperately they had tried to escape it! How often they had offered sacrifices and sought to appease the aggrieved spirits ... all to no avail, as victim after victim succumbed to death's fatal snatch. And now, here was the white woman no more able than they to free herself from its grip. Indeed, it looked hopeless and dark!
But what were they witnessing? Could they believe their eyes? Their ears? The family was not throwing themselves on the ground in frantic contortions with pleas to be spared! Here were six people, composed, standing before them and saying, "We do not fear death! This is not the end! Our mother is with the Lord Jesus in heaven, and we will some day be with her and see her again! Trusting Christ as our personal Saviour assures us of forgiveness of sins and life with Him." But, the people were in a state of shock and could not comprehend what was enacted before their eyes.
The crude log with its dear remains was lowered into that stark void. Heavy scoops of yellow earth fell one upon another. No hand was extended to aid in service. A lifetime of bondage to fear held them securely and when the grave was covered, they left without a word to go back to their huts, their understanding still unenlightened. A lonely grave, but known to God! "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." When the dead in Christ are raised, life will come into action there in that solitary internment and death will have been swallowed up in victory!!
(Great-grandmother's sun-dried brick grave - 1936)They had witnessed no fear. Instead they saw calmness, confidence, the reality of the truth they'd heard. Now they were sure! And they believed, were baptized, and the cycle continued as they told what great things the Lord had done for them. A corn of wheat fell into the ground ... and died ...
Let us go back briefly to where it all began Ruth Geraldine Fuller was born in the small town of Garretsville, Ohio, December 5, 1888. Her folks had a small farm where an older brother, sister, and herself grew up, attending church and living exemplary lives. God's call singled out Ruth and she went to Moody Bible Institute. Her folks moved to Bozeman, Montana as missionaries to the Indians. And Ruth after graduation in 1910, fit right in as school teacher. Excellent preparation for the next step to Africa in 1917 with the Africa Inland Mission.
This was the time of pioneering missions and no well-developed station with comfortable housing awaited the new arrival. But she had purpose and she had come to serve! It didn't take her long, wherever she was assigned, to get a group of children together and start teaching them, while at the same time learning their language, her dedication didn't escape notice. A fellow missionary, an enthusiastic young man, Herbert E. Grings, had been much used in opening new stations for couples to develop. When he wearied of this single man's task, it was the field director who suggested to him that a very suitable helpmeet was already God-sent.
And so their lives blended and God gave them wonderful years of service there in eastern Congo, as well as four children. Furlough time came and they settled for awhile in Florida. Always quick to find areas of service for the Lord, they were soon starting Sunday Schools and establishing churches. Two more children came along, but the death of their last born in Africa roused then hearts to return to that country.
June of 1933 found them again on their way to the Congo. It was a trip much fraught with danger and delay, including the sinking of the first ship and loss of all their outfit and equipment. They held to their commitment, however and Christmas found them in a village, deep in the tangled forest of that central African country. Again, it was a rugged way of life bare necessities and few, if any, conveniences. What, woman of God Ruth was! Truly, whatsoever her hand found to do, she did it with her might! How blest we, her children, were with her patient and persistent teaching and example. Her larger mission family never lacked her time and assistance either. She was not one to spare herself always doing for others whether it was testifying the gospel of the grace of God, or making a dress for her little girl's stuffed doll.
(Biking to a village service)How frugal she had to be! There was no specified amount of monthly support coming in regularly. Ingenuity was essential to meet necessities, make gifts, or have little surprises. No stores were near where purchases could be made. How deft she was with her hand-turned sewing machine! Last year's clothes had to be lengthened and made do for another stretch. No refrigerator or stove ...yet we had smoked meat sun dried tropical fruit, our own cereals from rice and corn, home ground peanut butter and delicious banana jelly made without sugar.
She attended well to these physical and material matters, but how careful she also was with our spiritual and mental development. The Bible was our "First Reader." A thorough familiarity of phonics prepared us to handle mature reading. It was upon completion of the Gospel of John that this writer's heart was deeply moved by the suffering and sacrifice of Christ's death on the cross. A wise mother's application - "It was for YOU" and going back to chapter one verse twelve, "Believe, receive, become a child of God" that led to a personal acceptance of God's gift of salvation and placement in His family by the age of seven.
Discipline was consistent - no one "got by" with things. Authority was well respected. There was order and organization and cleanliness. What can I more say of this woman whose price was far above rubies whose mouth opened with wisdom and spoke with kindness, who looked well to her own household, but whose hands were outstretched to the needy? Strength and honour are Still a robe about her and true the prediction "She shat rejoice in time to come." We hasten to "give her the fruit of her hands" that "her own works may praise her in the gates."
To close this tribute, let me submit what characterized her life. On the bare, whitewashed walls of our mud brick home, written on the back side of last year's calendar in a school mom's neat script, was this earnest prayer.
Not I, but Christ, be honoured, loved, exalted;
Not I, but Christ, be seen, be known, be heard;
Not I, but Christ, in every look and action;
Not I, but Christ, in every thought and word.
Not I, but Christ, to gently soothe in sorrow;
Not I, but Christ, to wipe the falling tear;
Not I, but Christ, to lift the weary burden,
Not I, but Christ, to hush away all fear.
Not I, but Christ, in lowly silent labour;
Not I, but Christ, in humble earnest toil;
Christ, only Christ, No show, no ostentation,
Christ, none but Christ, The gatherer of the spoil
Christ, only Christ ere long will fill my vision;
Glory excelling, soon, full soon, I'll see -
Christ, only Christ, my All in All to be!
Not I, but Christ, be seen, be known, be heard;
Not I, but Christ, in every look and action;
Not I, but Christ, in every thought and word.
Not I, but Christ, to gently soothe in sorrow;
Not I, but Christ, to wipe the falling tear;
Not I, but Christ, to lift the weary burden,
Not I, but Christ, to hush away all fear.
Not I, but Christ, in lowly silent labour;
Not I, but Christ, in humble earnest toil;
Christ, only Christ, No show, no ostentation,
Christ, none but Christ, The gatherer of the spoil
Christ, only Christ ere long will fill my vision;
Glory excelling, soon, full soon, I'll see -
Christ, only Christ, my All in All to be!
How well this was exemplified in her daily living! How "soon" (only 48) was Christ filling her vision: the "glory excelling" her portion. And ... we were left to carry on ... We stayed on for ten more years. Home, with all its ties was given up and we lived from village to village full time. The door of salvation opened by the death of a missionary in their midst, now yielded fruit in abundance. Believers sprang up in many of the villages, baptisms followed and the establishing of churches. The "going forth" had been with weeping, but God gave the sheaves bearing time with rejoicing!
Now, FIFTY years later the story is still unfolding! Daddy was called to glory in 1977. The children are continuing the "family business" on three continents. Eleven grandchildren and ten great grandchildren share the heritage.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!
He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on!
He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on!
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