A
Young Mother Is Called To Preach
By
Grace R. Roos
In
September, 1938, the Lord spoke to me a second time about preaching. “Preach the Gospel! Preach the Gospel!” echoed
and re-echoed in my heart, but I dismissed it, still not convinced.
The
following summer, 1939, while we were building a brush arbor on the edge of the City of Lufkin, the Lord dealt with me the
third time. Early one morning, Carl and I were praying together. The tender voice of the Lord spoke entreatingly, deep within,
“Grace, WON'T you preach for me?”
Amazed
and dumbfounded by turns, I could only stammer, “Yes, Lord, I just didn't realize you wanted me to!” Great tears
began to flow as the whole thought of MY CALL burst upon me.
But
I knew I could not preach, so my understanding Teacher arranged a lesson for me. A friend, a mother like myself, came to visit
and attend services under the arbor. Carl invited her to preach that night. As she ministered, God pointed out that she was
just talking out of her heart to the congregation, and said, “You can do that, Grace.”
"Yes, Lord, I can do that. Is that all?!" I answered. So greatly encouraged, I began my first attempts at preaching.
Visiting
in a service on Sunday morning, I listened to a woman preacher expound the Word of God under a heavy anointing of the Spirit.
So freely did she preach and with such authority, I was fascinated. Sadly, I whispered, “Lord, I can't preach like Sister
_____!”
“I did not tell you to preach like Sister _____,” came back the firm voice of the Lord. “I
want you to preach like Sister Roos.”
A
gladness rushed all through me. All God wanted of me was to be myself! From that day on, preaching became a joy!
Expecting
our fourth child, I sought the Lord about what He wanted me to do at the birth. I was strongly impressed to trust Him to see
me through.
He
so filled my heart with peace and quiet confidence that endured through all the months of waiting.
Not
knowing whether the little cramps I was feeling were the beginning of labor of just the results of too much yard cleaning
the day before, I walked the path outside the trailer and prayed. A sharp hard pain caught me and held me for fleeting seconds...
that was my answer.
Carl
went off for help. I had no more pains. Carl was soon back with our friend, and then no knowing what to do next, we went inside
and prayed. A quietness settled upon us, and then in the midst of our prayer, God's hand moved the unborn child on its journey
into the world. Things happened fast for the next ten minutes before the quietness of the trailer was rent by the cry of a
newborn son.
Paul
Herschel had arrived in good shape, a plump little mite, weighing about eight pounds. He soon earned the name, “Peaceful
Paul.” I had especially asked the Lord for a good baby, one who would be satisfied and contented, a pleasure to me...
and he was all of those things!
So
quick and easy had been the delivery, I was completely myself immediately after. Paul was born at 12:30 noon, and I spent
the rest of the day waiting on and admiring our new son, and doing the usual things about our trailer home. The next day while
cooking a meal which required watching, I was interrupted. Not wishing to burn my dinner, I ran back to the trailer to check
on it, without thinking how my actions would effect my visitors who were following. Here I was with a baby twenty-four hours
old... running! To God be the glory!
