Riches of grace

by E. E. Byrum

While I was doing this they went down on their knees to pray as they did every morning. Looking up to me, the doctor said, "My friend, if you will not respect God nor respect me as your only and personal friend in the city, for the Lord's sake respect this house, for this house is consecrated unto God."

These words sank deep into my heart, and I kneeled down still with bitterness in my heart against Jesus and the doctor. While I was down on my knees, I was cursing, mocking at them and their Lord. The doctor prayed first, then his wife, and then his little boy, who said, "Lord Jesus, you have promised to save him; won't you save him?"

These words broke my heart, and I began crying, "If there is a God, come and prove yourself." The carpet around me was wet with the tears which I had shed in crying for God to come and prove himself. I felt within myself a love for the Lord Jesus and soon had a living faith that the Lord Jesus died for me and that through his death I was saved. After I rose from my knees, the doctor, his wife, and the little boy stood with eyes full of tears, rejoicing with me that there was power in the blood of Jesus Christ to save such a vile sinner as I was.

One hour later I left the house of the doctor to tell my friend, the manager of the hotel, that the Lord Jesus was now my Savior and that he had saved me from my sins. He took a heavy chunk of wood and hit me on my right side, nearly breaking my ribs.

I said, "May God forgive you for this and not hold it against you," while the tears were streaming down my face. This is the first time in my life that I ever said to any one, "May God bless you!" Then I said to him, "If it were only yesterday that you had done this to me, I would have killed you; but now the Lord Jesus has taken anger out of my heart, and I will endeavor to pray for you that God may have mercy upon you." Walking out of his hotel crippled as I was and holding my side with my hand, I said again, "God bless you!"

While walking down the street, I saw a company of mission workers on the corner of Jefferson and Washington Avenues. I pushed myself through the crowd, seeing that there were some Jews there, and I began to preach to my own people for the first time that the only way of salvation is through the Lord Jesus Christ. In answer, there came rotten eggs and rotten tomatoes at my head and body until I was covered from head to foot.

After the meeting I walked on singing a song and rejoicing that the Lord Jesus had seen fit to save such a poor sinner as I was. Thus ended my first day as a convert. I thank God for the first pay I ever received in the gospel—a crippled side and rotten eggs. I continued to preach the gospel to my people in Portland for several days.

Three days after my conversion, while I was on my knees praying, it occurred to me that I had better write to my relatives and tell them what love the Lord Jesus had for me, and that he had died to save them as well as me, and that he was the only true Messiah. I reasoned for several days against this; but at last I had to write, because I saw that the Lord was on one side and my relatives on the other side, and that I had to choose between them. So I wrote to them, sending to each a separate letter telling them that Jesus was my Savior and that he is the only and true Messiah.

Sometime after this, answer came from my relatives that they could not believe that there was any power to save me, because, if I could leave my first principles and leave my own people, the teaching which I was brought up under and drift so far away as to curse God, they did not believe there was any power to save me. I kept sending them Testaments and Gospels, but still they could not believe.

One day I went to see my sister and told her the truth. She at first did not believe me, but I asked her to attend a street-meeting which I was to hold, and she heard me preach Christ. She then wrote to my mother, who began to grieve herself to death because I had accepted the Lord Jesus for my Savior. Then they wrote me different letters and were patient with me, thinking that they would win me back to Judaism. When they saw there was no hope of getting me back, they were done with me.