‘Of course, I said “No,"’ she wrote. ’I don’t know what they can be thinking of.’
Just at this time an argument began in one of the newspapers as to whether women had the right to speak for God or not. Mrs. Booth wrote an answer to this question you can read it for yourself in her book, ’Practical Religion’–and she showed from God’s Word, that women have the same right to help to get people saved that the men have. The little pamphlet was already printed and being widely read, and our Army Mother lay alone in her room very ill, when the thought flashed into her soul, ’You have been helping other women to preach and to speak for God. What about yourself?’
’Oh, no, Lord, not me; I can’t. I am, as Thou knowest, the most timid and bashful disciple ever saved by grace.’ That was her answer.
Then the Lord took her back to the days when she first gave herself to Him, at the age of fifteen. He showed her that all the way along this one thing had hindered and stopped her from ’being the blessing or from getting the blessing He intended.’
‘Lord,’ she cried, ’if Thou wilt come back to me as in the old days, I will obey, though I die in the attempt.’
But at the moment God seemed not to answer her cry, and when she was well again all went on as before.
Three months later Mrs. Booth was quietly sitting one Sunday morning in chapel with her eldest boy, when a very wonderful thing happened. You shall read about it in her own words:–
‘I felt much depressed in mind,’ she says, ’and was not expecting anything particular, but as the testimonies proceeded I felt the Holy Spirit come upon me. It seemed as if a voice said to me: “Now, if you were to go and testify, you know I would bless it to your own soul as well as to the people!” I gasped again, and said in my heart: “Yes, Lord, I believe Thou wouldst, but I cannot do it!” I had forgotten my vow.
’A moment afterwards there flashed across my mind the memory of the time when I had promised the Lord that I would obey Him at all costs. And then the voice seemed to ask me if this was consistent with that promise. I almost jumped up and said, “No, Lord, it is the old thing over again. But I cannot do it!” I felt as though I would sooner die than speak. And then the Devil said, “Besides, you are not prepared. You will look like a fool, and will have nothing to say.” He made a mistake. He overreached himself for once. It was this word that settled it. “Ah!” I said, “this is just the point. I have never yet been willing to be a fool for Christ. Now I will be one!”
’Without stopping another moment, I rose up from my seat and walked down the aisle. My dear husband thought something had happened to me, and so did the people. We had been there two years, and they knew my timid, bashful nature. He stepped down, and asked me, “What is the matter, my dear?” I replied, “I want to say a word!” He was so taken by surprise that he could only say, “My dear wife wishes to speak!” and sat down. For years he had been trying to persuade me to do it. Only that very week he had wanted me to go and address a little Cottage Meeting of some twenty working people, but I had refused.