About two years ago I stood in darkness, as it were, knocking at the door of Truth, which seemed closed to my understanding. From my earliest childhood I had been trying to follow Christ, but with indifferent success. I believed that God was good, that God was Love, but a working knowledge of Him seemed hid from me. I never felt sure I was His child, and at times this thought gave me great trouble and grief. Paul said, "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,;" but longsuffering seemed to be my only fruit, and that so bitter and hard to bear.
I had always been a cripple, but was brought up by a loving father to feel that this was all part of God's wonderful gift of love to me, that I might thereby in some way reflect His love through my imperfection cheerfully borne. My father was a Presbyterian minister, and he passed through the valley of the shadow of death when I was but ten. I was naturally of a happy, cheerful disposition, with much pluck and courage, so I pushed ahead, going to school and later to college, where at the end of the second year my health broke down. Even then I believed God had given me work to do at home, so I gave up after a hard struggle and said, "God's will be done," without thinking of how perfect and loving it would be to do His will "in earth, as it is in heaven." I still went on with a song in my heart, only the song had a less buoyant tone.
Then a member of my family broke down, and life seemed unbearable. I said, "Can it be God's will to take from any one the mind by which we understand God? No! No! I cannot, I will not believe it." I cried out in anguish of soul, for I felt that this was too bitter; this could not be God's will. Later I was in an accident which severely injured my back, and for three years I could not sit up any length of time, though I was still able to be about on my feet enough to do what seemed necessary. All my sewing I did lying on the couch, and never during that time was I free from pain. At last I felt I could not longer stand the strain, and that I should surely lose my mind. I used to look about our church and wonder if there was another heart so burdened as mine. Still I said, "God is good, and God is Love, and it is only a cloud which hides Him from me. I must find Him, I will find Him."
