While conducting a revival meeting at Grand Forks, North Dakota, I preached
one afternoon on the subject of worldliness. An attorney and his wife from
Langdon, North Dakota were staying in the city to attend the meeting. After
hearing this sermon the wife would not attend the services any more. At the
close of the Sunday afternoon service, two days later, the attorney came to
me and said, "The Holy Spirit was in the meeting this afternoon, wasn't
He?" I replied that He was, and he continued, "Every sinner present was
saved and something happened to me that I never remember having experienced
before. I cried like a child!"
I asked him why his wife had quit coming to the meeting. In reply he asked,
"Has Sister Hansen told you anything about us and our home?" I said, "Yes,
you once gave a minister twenty-two-hundred pieces of money, they were all
pennies. You did a good thing. This is all Sister Hansen ever told me about
you folks. I have heard nothing whatever about you."
He referred to the sermon on worldliness and said, "In your talk, you
practically, set a price on everything we have in the home, such as
curtains, carpets, furniture and the range; and you illustrated it this
way: 'Supposing a person could buy a suitable range for $42.50 but seeing
another, just the same kind only with nickel-plated trimmings, for $82.00
and he would choose the latter, wouldn't that be called the pride of the
eye?' And that is just the kind of range we have! and my wife could not see
it that way." She thought that Sister Hansen had told me and did not get
that out of her mind and was finally lost, the husband said.
I was preaching under the leading of the Holy Spirit and in what I said I
had no one in mind in using that illustration, but was simply trying to
show that such money could be used to better purpose and that sometimes
when folks yielded to the temptation to take the finer appearing article
they might be going beyond their means.
* * * * *
One Sunday morning when I was pastor in Grand Forks and had just gotten
through preaching a man came rushing up to the pulpit and said in a rough
voice, "Who told you all about me?" I put out my hand and said, "My name is
Susag, what is your name?" He answered, "You stood before this audience
this morning and told them everything I have ever done!" I answered, "Dear
man, I don't know you, nor have I ever heard of you, what is your name?" He
looked around, then turned and out he ran! I never saw the man again.
Some years ago when in Norway, Morris Johnson and I held a meeting on a
large farm in Roleg in Numedahl. A large crowd was out at the first
service. We knelt down to pray and while we were praying I heard a great
commotion and when we rose from our knees we found that two thirds of the
people were gone. The foreman of the King's highway was in the audience and
he had said when he came out there, that those preachers were too fanatical
and if he had had his gun along and had shot them, he would have done the
Lord a good favor. However, I do not think that in his heart he meant as
bad as it sounded, for some time later he invited us to his home and
treated us with much courtesy and kindness. A number were saved and
baptized and quite a nice little congregation was raised up at that place.
* * * * *
While we were at Sanes, Norway, Brother Morris Johnson was very sick and
one evening when we arrived at our stopping place he rolled onto the bed
with his clothes on, exhausted. He had been bleeding from the lungs and was
so weak that I could hardly get him home. We wept and prayed and finally I
said to him, "Morris, can't you get out of bed and kneel down with me and
pray?" "I might," he said, "but I think the bed is the best place for me."
However, he got down and said a few words and then rolled back into bed
again. He wasn't able to undress all night and I was afraid to go to sleep
for fear that he might leave me most any time during the night.
In the morning he seemed to be somewhat rested and I said to him, "Brother
Morris, we must try and get down to Sister Svenson's and get you some meat
broth." (Sister S. had a delicatessen store, and Morris hadn't eaten
anything for a couple of days) but he said, "I am unable to get down there
nor can I eat anything." "But," I said, "You've got to get down there even
if I have to carry you there on my back. You'll have to eat or I will be
having to bury you somewhere among the rocks in Norway." He got up and I
put my arm around him and, as luck would have it the road was down hill. We
had to stop and rest several times but we got there and the Lord must have
impressed Sister Svenson for she had some broth all ready made, but as she
was preparing to serve it the trouble in his lungs began again and he went
to the wash room. I fell prostrate on the floor crying to God for help for
him. Suddenly I realized I had received faith for him and called to him,
"Morris, the bleeding stops, now!" And it did. And from that time on he
recovered rapidly. (When I think of that dear brother and the plight he was
in, it brings tears to my eyes, even now).
* * * * *