At a meeting in Chicago there was a woman possessed with devils, and wanted
to be delivered. Seven ministers, four men and three sisters, were working
with her for over an hour but without apparent success. We tried to lay our
hands on her but the devils in her would kick our hands away. Big knots
came out on her body, on her shoulders and neck the size of a good sized
apple. Then we ministers withdrew for a consultation among ourselves--to
see whether the hindering cause in casting these devils out, lay in us,
among ourselves--to be assured of complete unity and agreement in our
midst: And we found that there was perfect unity. That being the case, we
said, "We must have the victory, the evil spirits must go." We went back to
the woman and worked, prayed and rebuked the enemy for nearly three hours,
all to no avail.
Then one brother said, "There must be someone in the chapel sympathizing
with her." We began a search looking everywhere to find where the trouble
was and behind some folding doors in the prayer room we found a man.
Brother Knight said to him, "What are you doing here?" He said, "Can't I
stay here?" But he was told to leave forthwith and he went. We then locked
the doors of the chapel and in a few minutes the woman was delivered.
She was obliged to go home as her husband went to work at four o'clock in
the morning, but he came back the next day and was gloriously saved.
Another case of demon possession happened in Grand Forks. During a meeting
we were holding there, a man came to the service who formerly had taken his
stand with the church, coming out of a certain denomination, but before
long he returned to it again. When he came to the meeting we were holding
he was possessed. In one of the services Brother Krutz and I attempted to
lay hands on him: He was kneeling at the altar with his back to the pulpit
and he was taken up bodily and thrown upon the rostrum against the wall
behind the pulpit. I ran after him and the devil said to me, "Now, it will
go with you as it did with the seven sons of Sceva." I rebuked the devil
and when I got to the man he turned over on his back and slid, head first,
off the rostrum toward the seats, knocking his head against the seats until
it seemed as though his skull would surely be broken.
I called for help. Eight brothers came and held him so that he would not
get hurt. We laid hands on him and commanded the evil spirits to come out
of him but they did not come. Then I asked them, "What is your name?" The
answer was, "Salvation Army devil." Then in the name of the Lord Jesus we
commanded the Salvation Army devil to come out of him. And when they went
out it was with such a horrible scream that many women jumped up on their
seats in fright and the man's shirt was torn and blood was running from his
mouth and he fell on the floor as though he were dead. We let him lie there
a little while, then, laying our hands on him, prayed and he came to. This
man repented, made his confession and was saved.
* * * * *
Bro. Drysdale of Grand Forks, who had a stiff knee, was prayed for several
times, but got no help. However, in this meeting his limb became so
limbered up that he could run up and down the steps like a young man. He
got so happy that he forgot his cane and went home without it. On getting
home he discovered he had left his cane behind and ran back to the chapel
to get it, but when he got hold of his cane, his limb was as bad as ever.
When I was in Minneapolis with Brother E. G. Masters, a lady came to us to
be prayed for. She was walking with two canes. She was prayed for and the
Lord healed her. And she got around like a young woman. She went home
forgetting to take her two canes--and they were beautiful canes! She came
back to get them, but when she got hold of them she was just as crippled as
ever, and no praying helped her.
* * * * *
One time I was asked by the congregation at Rice Lake, Wisconsin, to come
and hold a meeting for them. And I felt that the Lord wanted me to do so. I
wrote the pastor there about it four times a year for two years, but he did
not want me. However the Lord said, "You go," and I went. On my arrival at
Rice Lake, I found the pastor sick in bed.
I said to him, "Well, I'm here now; the Lord told me to come." He told me
the chapel was open and that I should go ahead. I started that meeting with
eight to twelve school children and two women coming to the services,
keeping on for two weeks. Many times the devil said to me, "So you thought
the Lord sent you, didn't you? Now you see!"
The last Sunday night, to cap the climax, the children came around me and
said, "Reverend, aren't you going to close the services?" I asked, "Do you
want them to close?" They said they did. I asked them the reason and they
said, "We like your preaching so much better than our pastors, but we go to
school and we get so tired from coming every night." Then I said to them,
"Children, your reason is very good. But what do you think of this
proposition: that we announce services for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday
evenings, and if no more come we will close the meeting and you tell your
folks about it?" The children thought it would be fine.
The next night, Monday, two more women came and they came the next night
too, and one of them (if not both of them) got saved. But what happened the
next two evenings is erased from my memory, but Friday evening when I came
to open the door for the service, there were more people than there was
room in the chapel to accommodate them. So they stood around on boxes and
ladders outside the windows. Fifty-two were at the altar for salvation in
the last three weeks--I was there five weeks in all. The last Saturday I
went to the pastors home and said to him, "I have come to pray for you. You
are going to get healed today so you can attend the service tomorrow. But
you will have to come early or you will not be able to get into your own
pulpit." He broke down and cried and said, "I haven't a pair of decent
trousers to wear to stand before such a big audience." I said, "I have two
pairs, thank God, I will give you one pair." I prayed for him and he was
healed.
At a later time Brother Masters and I held another meeting there. One
evening a couple came in a little late and sat down in the back seat. This
was the first time they had attended the service and they got under
conviction, but they got out before we could get to speak to them. They
came the next evening and slipped out again before we could get to them.
They did not come any more. We began to inquire around to find out their
names and where they lived. Yes, we were informed, he was a real estate
agent, and they never go to church anywhere. We went to their home and had
a fine visit with them one afternoon for about two hours. They were nice
folks. Brother Masters said, "We have not seen you out to the services any
more since the second time you were there."
"Well," they said, we are not in the habit of going to any meetings, but we
enjoyed the beautiful singing so much the first night that we decided we
would go again the next evening. We didn't want to be late, so I decided to
milk our cow after service. After coming home from the service I took my
lantern, as we have not any light in the barn and hung it up on a nail on
the studding and went to milking. As the milk began to run I heard a noise
like a shot and the lantern went out, leaving me in total darkness. When I
went to examine what had happened, it appeared that I had been so disturbed
in my mind over what I heard at the services that I had made a mistake and
had hung the milk pail up instead of the lantern, and when the milk
dropped, it fell on the lantern-globe and broke it."
"Well," we said, "you are coming to the services again?" But they answered,
"We surely are not. If two services can affect us to such an extent as
nearly cause us to lose our minds we will never go back again. We only go
to the funeral services of our neighbors."
* * * * *
At one time when I was in Denmark, I was in dire need of a considerable sum
of money. I prayed earnestly over the matter and one day as I went to put
my hat on my head it seemed to be too small. I took it off and looked on
the inside of it to be sure it was mine and in feeling around, on the
inside of the sweat band I found the very amount of money I needed.
* * * * *
While still in Denmark, I needed an overcoat. I went to a clothing store
and picked out one. There were a few alterations to be made and I was to
get it in two or three days, but I had no money and did not know from where
any was coming. This was Friday and Sunday evening after service a number
of saints went passed my door and one sister threw a folded bill on to my
table. She said, "Brother Susag, you need an overcoat. Here is a little to
help on it." I thanked her and looked at the bill and found it was a
hundred crown bill--more than seven crowns over the cost of the overcoat.
* * * * *
Once when I was in Grand Forks holding a meeting, my oldest son wrote me
that a man to whom I owed $27.50 needed $20.00 and that if I could pay the
twenty he would give $7.50. Between the forenoon service and that of the
afternoon, I stayed in the church to pray and just before the next service
was to begin a number of people came in and stood beside the stove warming
themselves. An elderly woman from South Dakota put out her hand to me and
said, "Praise the Lord, Brother Susag," and putting a crumpled bill into my
hand, said, "This is for you." I thanked her and went behind the pulpit and
thanked the Lord for twenty dollars and when I looked at it, it was twenty
dollars.
The next day, between morning and afternoon services, I took a walk and on
my way I passed a fruit stand. As I looked into the window of it I saw some
delicious red apples, and Oh, how I wished I had three of them. I went back
three times and looked at them, but I had no money. I went back to the
chapel and the same old sister that had given me the twenty dollars the day
before, handed me a little paper bag and in it, to my happy surprise, were
three of those delicious apples that I had wanted.
One time when I was in Denmark, I wanted to go from Hjoremg to Lokkum. I
did not have the money for my carfare but stood up against a pillar in the
station praying the Lord to send it. As it was getting near train time it
looked as though it were not coming when suddenly a lady whom I knew--she
was not saved--came into the depot and crossed right over to me and handed
me a five crown bill. This lady had heard me often tell of the Lord hearing
prayer, but she did not believe that it was all true. I took it hastily,
ran for the ticket window, purchased my ticket and was just in time to
catch the train. When I came back, this lady came to the services and when
I saw her I asked her whether I had thanked her for the bill she had given
me at the depot. She said, "No, you didn't have time. When I came in to the
depot and saw you standing there, something said to me, 'He's praying for
carfare; go, give him five crowns,' and when I gave it to you I saw tears
in your eyes and when I got home I knelt down and asked the Lord to save me
and He did." Then she said, "You were praying for carfare, weren't you?" I
assured her I surely was. "God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to
perform."
* * * * *
At the first Camp meeting we held, I went to the bank and borrowed ten
dollars to divide among the ministers, and one day the Lord said to me,
"Give Elihu Key five dollars."
I couldn't understand so went to wife and told her about it; she said, "If
the Lord told you to give Brother Key five dollars, you had better give it
to him; he must be needing it badly." So the next day I crumpled a five
dollar bill up and stuck it in his hand. He said, "Thank you," and into the
brush he went--and I went after him, crawling on my hands and knees so he
would not see me--quite close up to him. He fell on his knees, crying and
thanking the Lord for the five dollars and for the man who gave it to him
and asking the Lord to bless him a hundred-fold according to His word. Then
down the hill he ran to the Post Office and sent it to his family. This I
learned later from his brother. The family was in great need.
* * * * *
On one occasion a payment of $245.00 had to be made on the contracts on our
home--to save the contract from lapsing. I did not have the money. I tried
every possible way to borrow it from different banks, and failing that, I
tried to get it from some of the brethren. The last one I approached surely
capped the climax. He assured me that he had the money and could loan it to
me, but he said that he might just as well throw the money on the manure
pile, for, he said, "You can never pay for the place anyhow, and the
quicker you leave it the better."
I went home, and after praying for three days the Lord said the name "Torp"
to me. The only one I knew of that name was a banker in Willmer, our county
seat, whom I had met once--he hardly knew me nor I him. Anyway, I went to
him and told him my trouble, to which he responded by saying that he could
not loan me any money; that I was out of the district for him to loan on
chattel mortgages; that I would either have to get it at Paynesville,
Atwater or New London. I told him that I had already applied at those
places but could not obtain the loan. Then Mr. Torp asked me what security
I was able to give, to which I replied that the security I had would not be
worth fifty dollars, but that I had a strong back and two strong arms and a
good will and that we would like to stay on the hill a little longer if it
were at all possible. He said, "Such things will go a long way." He sat
there silent for a minute or two, then he said, "I'll think the matter over
and you come back after dinner." A lump got into my throat so that I could
not even say, "Thank you."
I walked down into the railroad yards, found a place between two box cars
and prayed for nearly an hour and a half-back and forth I went praying that
the Lord would "speak to the dear man and make his heart tender toward this
poor man and his family." I went back to the bank and the good man met me.
He invited me into his office, and when we were seated he said, "I have
thought the matter over and I am going to loan you the money; now what
security have you to offer?" I said, "I have a bay colt, a couple of
calves, an old wagon I paid seven dollars for, and some other little
trinkets." "Well," he said, "the colt as it grows will increase in
price--good horses at that time were only worth about fifty dollars--and
the calves also will increase in value. How long a time do you want?" I
told him I thought eight months. Then he told me that their charge for such
loans was 12%, but that he would let me have it for 8%.
Three weeks before the note came due I went to see him. My purpose in going
was in regard to the loan. "Well," he said, "it is not due yet; we have not
sent you a notice." I told him that I was wanting to know whether he would
extend the time on the note. He asked me whether I had anything at all to
pay on it. I told him I had only $50.00 and the interest. To which he
replied, "That's fine." It took me two years instead of eight months to pay
off the loan; but I was always on hand ahead of time to get the extension.
When I made the last payment he gave me one dollar.
I went to see this banker some years later, and I asked him what it was
that had made him so kind to me. Tears came into his eyes, but he did not
answer--and my eyes were moist as well. He turned and from a drawer took
out a small tract in which was an account of his boyhood life and
experiences. His father died when he was eleven years old. He took a job as
ship boy on board a ship and went through untold hardships to help support
his mother and his six brothers and sisters. When he was about seventeen he
came to America and located in Wisconsin.
When the Civil War was on a certain rich man came to him with an offer of
several hundred dollars if he would act as substitute for his son in the
army--which offer, however, he refused. Some time later he became
acquainted with a family in which were seven children who were very good to
him. One day word came that the father, who was a soldier, was killed in
action and that the oldest boy was to be taken to fill his father's place.
Whereupon young Torp stepped up to the boy and said, "You go home and take
care of your mother and the family and I will go in your place--free of
charge." The Lord was good to him and protected him; very soon he was
promoted to the rank of an officer--and so the booklet continued, telling
of his life's experiences.
These two incidents remind me, by way of contrast, of the story of another
banker and of the way he dealt with a poor man who was in debt to him. When
not prepared to meet the payments on his note the poor man would ask for an
extension of time. Finally the banker became impatient and refused to grant
any further time extension. The poor man begged for mercy--that he would
allow him more time. "All right," said the banker, "I have a glass eye; it
is such a good one that people cannot tell which one it is; if you can tell
which one, I will extend the loan." Looking carefully at the eyes the man
said, "It is the left one." "Yes," said the other, "how could you tell?"
The man said, "I could tell that eye was more sympathetic than the good
one." It is said of Jesus that he "learned obedience through the things
that he suffered"--and so with us, we learn how to have sympathy according
to how we suffer.
* * * * *
My first experience of being healed of cancer of the stomach was while I
was in Grand Forks in 1922 after that Doctor Weatherstein had examined me
and said there was nothing that could be done for me. I was taken to the
Werstlein's home where I was staying, and Brother Shave, Sister Gaulke and
Sister Johnstone were sent for. They came, and when they saw me as I lay on
the lounge, they fell on their knees weeping and calling on God. All at
once they arose, and with Sister Werstlein, laid their hands on me and
rebuked the devil and the cancer, and I was instantly healed!
In the fall of 1936 I had a number of calls to go to the West Coast, but I
did not feel that I could leave unless wife had someone to stay with her.
However, she insisted that I should go, saying she was able to take care of
herself, but I hesitated about going so far away and applied for a job as
an automobile adjuster paying $50 a week and commission. I had everything
signed up on Friday, and I was to go to work the following Tuesday. On
Sunday the cancer returned again for the third time--the blood running from
me and I was very sick. Wife said--not in an unkind way--"Good enough for
you." I said, "I know what you are going to say." "Yes," she went on, "but
I will check up on you. Do you remember what Brother Dorrity said to you
when you were ordained? 'This is not for a day, nor for a week, nor for a
month or a year, but for your lifetime,' and you are not dead yet!" To
which I replied, suffering and weeping, "All right, you come and pray for
me." She came and prayed and I was instantly healed. Needless to say, I did
not take the job.
This took place the Sunday before Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving day we were
to go by invitation to Willmar to dinner and in the evening we were to
attend service and I was to preach. That was the last automobile trip my
wife ever took with me.
In the same year we were living on our little farm. On December the first,
as I was going to town, wife made out a little list of things she wanted me
to buy, but in spite of the list I forgot two of the items I was to
get--and they were never purchased for they were never needed. On Monday
the 8th I said to her, "Perhaps I had better go to town and get those two
articles," but she said, "Never mind, we will wait until someone else goes
in."
Being clerk of the district school board and her brother the chairman, when
he came over, they talked over some business matters and other affairs that
evening. The next morning she got up early. I saw a light in her room and I
asked her whether she was getting up. She said she was; so I thought I had
better go down and stir up the fire. When she came down she said, "If you
want a job you can get breakfast ready." I answered, "Okay, what do you
want to eat?" She said, "A glass of milk, a slice of toast and a soft
cooked egg." Then she said, "I suppose you want oatmeal!" I said, "Sure."
After breakfast we had our morning worship and then she went to read and
write. After I had washed the dishes I said, "I am going to town to get
those two articles." To which she replied, "It is up to you. No hurry about
it." I went out to the garage to get the car and found I had a flat tire,
so I went back into the house and said, "It is cold out there and there is
a flat tire." She said, "Never mind."
About eleven o'clock she put her hands up to her ears and said, "I have
such pain around my ears." Then she went over to the sofa and lay down, but
the pain grew worse. I went to her and knelt down; we prayed and she was
instantly made well.
At noon I fixed a little lunch, after which I said, "Now I will go and fix
the tire and go to town." She laughed and said, "So now you are going to be
a man again."
I jacked up the car but could not turn any of the bolts on the wheel. I
walked to the neighbor's and borrowed a coal chisel but still I could not
move a bolt even with the hammer and chisel. All at once I heard a rattle
as though someone was dying. It startled me. I threw down the hammer and
chisel, and ran for the house like a wild man, jerking open one door after
another, and slamming them as I went. When I opened the last one, there I
saw wife sitting in the rocker reading, and she laughed. I raised my hands
and said to her, "You are not dead yet!" She answered, "I should say not! I
was wondering what kind of a cowboy had come rattling through the house!"
Then I told her that I could not get the wheel off. After a few minutes she
said, "Uncle Carl [her brother] said to me, 'Martha, why don't you take a
rest? You are always so busy and you don't have to keep going like that,'
so now I am going up stairs to take a rest. You come with me and carry my
Bible and a few other things." So I went with her. After I had tucked her
in bed I asked her if she was resting comfortably now. She said, "Yes," and
looking up at me with a smile, she said, as though she was about to tell me
a secret, "And now..."--and she was dead! I raised my hands and said, "O
Mama, you are not leaving me, are you?" But there she lay smiling.
I called the doctor and in a few minutes the house was full of people. The
first one to come was Sister Hansen. She said, "Brother Susag, Sister Susag
is not dead--she lies there smiling!" But she was gone. She had been
praying for about two years that she might go that way, and her prayer was
answered. (I got a neighbor young man to come and see what he could do with
the car. He had no trouble in turning the bolts and was able to fix it very
easily.) The feeling I had that I could not leave my wife to go to the West
Coast to hold meetings proved to have been quite in order.
* * * * *
On one of my trips I had to change trains at Grand Forks, and having a
little time to spare I walked down a certain street of the city and met
Brother John Sonden who was standing outside of a doctor's office. He was
surprised to see me, but I explained that I was just passing through in
making my train connections. He said he was waiting for his son, Brent, who
was up in the office consulting the doctor about his health. He wished so
much that I could talk to the boy. At his request I went and met him as he
was coming out of the consulting room.
He informed me that the doctor had told him he had heart trouble, but as he
did not know what kind, he wanted him to go to the hospital for a week when
he thought he would be able to locate the ailment. After hearing what he
had to say, I said to him, "I'll tell you what your trouble is and how you
feel when you are sitting on the gang plow, plowing: You feel you are going
to fall off in front of the plow and get killed and that makes you nervous
and sick." He said, "Yes sir, that is exactly how I feel." I then said to
him, "I can tell you the cure for it: Go home, and falling on your knees,
confess your sins to God and call on Him. for salvation. I will be agreed
in prayer and I guarantee you will be well--and now, goodbye, Brent, I must
run to catch my train."
A year later when driving past his farm with Brother Holman, I saw a man
out in the field and asked Brother Holman whether that was Brent Sonden. He
said it was, and out of the car I got and ran over to him in the field
saying, "Praise the Lord, Brent--did you follow the advice I gave you a
year ago?" He answered, "Yes, and I have never had that feeling again since
the Lord saved me."
* * * * *
At one time I went to Hereford, Minnesota to preach for Brother George
Green while he went on a trip to Iowa. At the Sunday morning service I
learned that Elder Larson had met with an automobile accident the night
before, breaking his left arm in two places and had been taken to the
hospital at Barrett. His father phoned me that he would call for me and
take me with him to the hospital.
On our arrival there, we found three doctors on the spot ready to amputate
the arm--they were to take it off between the shoulder and the elbow. But I
protested, saying, "That arm is not going to be amputated; those bones have
to be set; for if you take the arm off you can never put it back again."
But the doctors objected, "That is all we can do." I replied, "If Doctor
Phelon of Paynesville had been at home I would have called for him to come
and he would have fixed those bones in a jiffy." They replied, "We know him
and he is no better than we are."
They turned to the father and said, "Are you going to listen to us or to
this old foggy preacher?" "Well," he answered, "The old minister knows
something too." At this, two of the doctors picked up their instruments and
left. The one remaining said to me, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I
am going to Hereford to preach tonight, after which I'll come back and take
the young man with me on the train to Minneapolis." "But," he said,
"gangrene may set in." I told him that I would pray God Almighty to keep
that away. Then he asked me whether I was going alone with the boy, and I
told him I was. He said that I was a brave man, but I answered, "No, it is
not that I am brave, but that young man would give anything to have his two
arms." Then the doctor said, "How would it be if I were to go with you?" I
told him that it would be fine. When we were on the train he asked me where
I was going to take the young man when we got to Minneapolis. I told him I
hadn't thought of that, but in a city of 500,000 people there must be a
doctor capable of setting bones. If not, I said, "I'll do it myself." "All
right," replied the doctor, "We'll take him to the Fairview Hospital; I
know a doctor there who is good at setting bones. His name is Seversen."
And this we decided to do.
It was early when we arrived in the city, so we first had breakfast, after
which I was introduced to Dr. Seversen. I said to him, "So you are the
doctor who is going to set the bones in that arm?" But he said, "It can't
be done; the arm will have to be amputated." I said, "That suggestion has
been made to me before, and that arm is not going to come off." While we
were talking several other doctors had come in--some thirteen or fourteen
in all. They said. "We will show you the Xray pictures"--hoping to convince
me that I was wrong. But I answered, "Xray pictures or no Xray pictures,
that arm is not going to be amputated." However, they protested and argued
that gangrene would set in--if it had not already done so. I said, "I will
ask God Almighty to not let that happen." Then turning to the doctors, I
said, "Shame on you doctors; if you cannot do it, I can, only I have no
license...." And to Dr. Seversen I said, "Will you do it? Tell me quick,
for if you will not, I will take him away from here." The doctor replied,
"I will."
I said to Dr. Seversen, "I would like to go along with you to see whether
you know how to do it." Eight doctors were also present. While the doctor
was drilling a hole in the protruding bone, red blood spurted out of it,
and I said, "Praise the Lord!" One of the doctors standing by said, "How do
you know fhat that looks good?" I made no reply, but looked at him with a
grin.
During his stay in the hospital I visited the young man from time to time.
One day I asked the doctor how he was getting along with Elder, and he
answered, "Getting along good only the sore doesn't quit running as rapidly
as I would like to have it." Then I ventured, "Have you looked at his
back?" He asked, "Tuberculosis of the spine?" I replied, "You had better
look."
The next time I was there he said, "There is no tuberculosis about him now;
he is well, when did he have it?" Then I told him that five years previous
to this time, when a lad of fourteen, he was sick and I prayed for him and
the Lord healed him. (Dr. Seversen did a good job on that young man's arm
and the Lord did the finishing.) Mr. Larson has a good strong arm today and
is employed in a service station in Elbow Lake, Minnesota.
Two years later I visited Dr. Seversen. When he saw me, he stuck both arms
up and said, "Here comes the man with the iron nerve." I answered him, "No,
here comes the man with a little good common sense and faith in God
Almighty." "Yes," he said, "common sense, but I thought it could not be
done, when it was in such a mess and had been broken so long." I answered
him, "Yes, but a good arm is better than an iron hook on it." He said,
"Indeed, but I did not think it could be done." (I have nothing against
doctors, but the Lord can do what men cannot do.)
* * * * *
One time Brother and Sister George Larson's three sons were stricken at the
same time with infantile paralysis. Herman was 21 and the twins 18 years. A
specialist was called and he brought two doctors with him. He pronounced
the cases as very serious, especially Norman who was stricken in the head,
and they did not think there was any hope for him. They said it would be a
good thing if he would die, for if he lived, he would be crazy. They sent
for me. Sister Larson was then pastor of a congregation in Hereford, Minn.
They had been praying and we prayed again, and the Lord finished the job
and healed all three. Often people say, "It was not so serious and may not
have been what they said it was," but this time the devil got fooled. The
young man had been going to the University of Minnesota where they had been
tapping some blood from them for medical science purposes to use to heal
others stricken in the same manner; so medical science acknowledge they had
the real thing.
At one of the camp meetings at Hereford, Ole Torgesen got very much under
conviction and went home to repair a thrashing machine engine. It did not
want to start and he got angry and swore at it. Starting suddenly, the fly
wheel struck his left hand and breaking a number of bones. He went to the
doctor and had the bones set and the hand taped and the arm strapped to his
body. Then he came back to the meeting and wanted to be saved. He repented,
and the Lord accepted him. While he was still on his knees he looked up and
said, "I hear you men believe in divine healing, and I want to be prayed
for that the Lord will heal my hand." So Brother C. H. Tubbs and myself
prayed the prayer of faith and he began to unloose his arm and take off the
bandage. While he was doing so, the saints were shouting the praises of
God. Others told him not to take the bandage off and got angry as he
continued removing them. Finally he took off the cotton and cleaned off the
iodine and the taping. After doing so, he lifted his arm slowly to move his
fingers. Finally he put his hand up and moved his fingers freely, and his
hand was healed to the glory of God. Next day we had baptismal services and
I asked him if he wanted to be baptized. He said he did, but thought his
wife would be saved, too, so wished that both could be baptized together. I
said, "All right."
Next day in the morning service she got saved. She was the daughter of a
lay minister of a certain denomination who did not believe in baptism by
immersion. She asked me if they could be baptized right away. I told her
that just as soon as the service was over we would go immediately to the
pool. She did not want her parents to know what she was doing, so we kept
it quiet, but when we started for the pool, the prairie seemed to be alive
with people on horse back and in all kinds of rigs, coming from all
directions.
They were blowing horns and making music on circle saws. So when we got to
the pool, the banks were covered with people more than in the baptismal
service before. While we were singing, I heard the sister say to her
husband, "There they come!" It was her father and mother. They came over to
them and I said, "Don't say a word to them." The preacher went after them
in a great way. Finally the daughter put her arms around his neck, and
said, "Daddy, don't go at it this way, please. We are saved now and want to
obey the commandments of the Lord." "All right," he said, "You are old
enough to know what you are doing." "But this man..." running at me and
shaking his fist in my face, and I thought I surely would get a good
licking when I said nothing and did not move. He cooled down, and said,
"This is a poor man. We better take up a collection for him," and walked
away. While I was baptizing the two and a Methodist minister's son, stones
and sticks flew in plenty around me but none hit me.
One evening three young men cut the rope of the tent and were caught. When
they learned they could get seven years in State prison, and we did not
prosecute them--that ended all the disturbance at that place.
* * * * *
At one time I was holding a revival meeting at Plum Coulee, Canada. One
evening there was conviction upon a number of people. I was just going to
close my sermon and make the altar call, and the devil said, "Now you
swear." It shocked me so, I had to stop for a minute and conviction ceased.
Then I had to start preaching again. The devil once more said, "Now you
swear." I rebuked him and went ahead and made the altar call, and those
under conviction came forward and received help.
* * * * *