Read In Straight Paths Page 13


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  When we first moved to where we now live, we had a real water problem. There was a shallow well on the place but it did not furnish enough water for our use. My husband bought large cement tiles and dug the well out, and put these tiles in to make a greater volume of water but we still ran short. So, next, he got a well construction company to come out and drill for water. After going down one hundred feet in our back yard, and not able to hit water, they moved a good distance to the edge of our property and drilled again. This time they hit a gusher. We were so thrilled after having to be so scarce with water for so long. But our joy was shortlived. The water had so much iron in it until it turned all my clothes, pots and pans, and bath facilities brown. It was a mess, needless to say. We contacted a water softener company and they came out and installed a water softener but it was not effective. It would clear up the water for a short time but before they got out to add more chemicals, it would go bad again, so we had the same problem. When the water was clear, I would buy dye-remover (the only thing that would take out the stain) and work real hard to bleach my clothes white again, and soon the water would be full of iron again and my clothes would be ruined. Oh, what a trial it was to me. Many times I have felt like crying as I hung up my brown clothes (and probably did cry at times). I would be so embarrassed for folk to see them hanging on my line. I had a young baby at that time and its diapers were so dingy looking. One can just imagine how I felt!

  We finally decided to put up a nine-hundred gallon rain tank to catch the rain water so that I could have good water to wash in. But this, too, turned out to be quite a burden, for I had to carry water from the rain tank to pour into my washer, and it being automatic, it was quite a chore with several loads of wash daily. Many times I would have a bucket of water in one hand and the baby in my other arm. I would get so tired and wonder if there would ever be an end.

  One day, I had carried water all morning to wash and I was exhausted. I sat down in a chair in the living room and was crying and praying. The Scripture from Isaiah 33:16 flashed through my mind--"bread shall be given him; his waters shall be sure." I took this as a promise from God that He was going to give us water some way. I was completely to the end of myself with our water problems.

  Well, God did move in our behalf. We had tried and tried to get city water which was only about a mile from our place, but the water district would not agree to extend the water line to reach us. But after I got this promise from God, He gave us the money (in a way we never dreamed of) to buy the pipe ourselves and hook on to the end of the district's water line. We approached them about it and they allowed us to do it, so at last, we had all the good soft running water we needed. Thank God, there comes an end to trials, "for the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayers ... " I Peter 3:12.

  Georgia D. McCain

  We Have a Big God

  We were building a new church and the foundation was about four or five blocks high when we had a rain storm and the foundation filled up with water. A man from our church had a gasoline pump to take the water out, but he couldn't get it to work. My two brothers and I were helping him (or getting in his way, for we were very young. I was eight, my younger brother was five and my older brother was about thirteen.) The man, whose name was Clifford, asked us if we wanted to ride with him to the parts store to get a spark plug, so we went with him. As we were riding along about thirty-five miles an hour, my younger brother's door came open and he was pulled out of the vehicle (the back door opened from the front to the back instead of back to front for it was an old car). His head struck a rock and made several large cuts on it. My older brother picked him up and we rushed him to the doctor's office. The doctor called my parents and they sent my brother to the hospital in the ambulance. The doctor at the hospital cleaned and sewed up the wounds which took over twenty-eight stitches. After the doctor got through, he came out and told my dad that if he lived, he would be a vegetable, and that his eyes would be crossed. My dad put his hand on the doctor's shoulder and said, "We have a big God." The doctor said, "If this child lives, it will have to be God to bring him through."

  My brother was unconscious for one month. Dad prayed for him and the Christians prayed for him. God brought him through, and he could walk and talk and his eyes were not crossed. Praise His Wonderful Name!

  David Poorman

  Pennsylvania

  The Hem of His Garment

  I had been ill for a month, with a good bit of pain and loss of weight but had not consulted a doctor. About that time, God, through the Spirit took me to Heaven and showed me things that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love and serve Him.

  But, after that wonderful experience my pain began to increase and I went to a doctor in April, 1954 and he informed me that I had cancer and had only six months to a year to live. I had felt like I had cancer even before I visited Heaven. I continued to grow worse until the pain became almost unbearable and I realized that I was going to die, or thought I was.

  One afternoon my pastor visited me. I will never forget that Wednesday afternoon. I appreciated her visit so much. At that time,I was lying upstairs on the bed and when she came in the room where I was, she could see how close I was to death. She had heard about my Heavenly visit and she said, "Oh, Marilyn, it isn't going to be long until you are back in Heaven, rejoicing with Jesus." I was happy rather than sad for the excruciating pain and my vision of Heaven made me rather anxious to go. Her parting words were, "Marilyn, we're going to give you the best funeral that you'd ever want." Little did she know that God had other plans for me and that she would beat me to Heaven.

  It was Sunday afternoon and my husband had carried me downstairs where I could be with the family, when my little girl, three years old at that time, came up to the couch and said, "Mommie, can't Jesus heal you?"

  "Of course He can," I replied, "but sometimes when we ask Him, He says 'no' because He knows what is best for us. He might want to take me on to Heaven." I loved my husband and family with all my heart and at that time it was my desire to stay with them.

  "Please, Mommie, can I ask Him anyway?"

  "Yes, Honey, you can ask Him," I replied. Then she knelt down beside me and began to pray. My husband who was in the kitchen washing dishes, heard her and came in and knelt with her. My little boy in his playpen at the foot of the couch came to the bars and joined in. These are the words that the Lord let me hear Kathy pray that day:

  "Dear Jesus, I need my Mommie so much, would You please come and heal her?"--and her words faded away; but I could still hear her and the others praying, when I heard a voice as clear as any I ever heard, saying, "If I could just touch the hem of His garment I would be made whole."

  From my couch, I could see into the kitchen, and draped in the doorway was a glowing, white, shimmering garment. I said, "Oh, yes, Jesus, if I could just touch the hem of Your garment I would be made whole." The moment I said that, the garment slowly started moving toward me.

  All I could see was the lower part of the garment--no hands or feet--no body, just the garment. It floated over a little above my head and behind me but I was so weak at that time that I couldn't reach up for it.

  I said, "Jesus, just give me strength in my arm to touch it; just my arm is all I ask, and I know I will be made whole."

  I made the effort; slowly reached up and touched REAL MATERIAL! No one can make me believe that I didn't! The very instant I touched it, precious, sweet, soothing healing flowed through my body!

  I jumped from the couch saying, "I'm going to church!" I ran up the steps two at a time; rushed into the bedroom and got ready. When I came back downstairs my husband, bless his sweet heart, was still standing in the middle of the floor, wide-eyed and dazed.

  "Come on, get ready, honey," I said, as I took our son from his arms, "We're going to church." I could see little Kathy, walki
ng up and down in the hallway with tears streaming down her smiling face, saying over and over, "Thank You, Jesus--Thank You, Jesus. I knew You could do it: I knew You could do it!" Oh, for the faith of a child. Her faith took over when I was too weak to have any.

  My husband was still so shocked that I had to help him get ready. When we reached the car I said, "I'm going to drive. I can't trust you in the shape you're in." Although I hadn't driven for months, I got behind the wheel and drove the thirty-five miles from Pasadena to Los Angeles.

  They commenced singing just as we started in the church and when the song leader saw me he gasped and threw up his hands. Then the pastor noticed me and her face turned white, and everybody turned around to see who had come in. Several for whom we had been praying for months, jumped up and ran to the altar and eventually prayed through. We had a Hallelujah time in the service that night. Needless to say, there was no preaching.

  After the service was over and the people all crowded around me, our pastor said, "Oh, Marilyn, can you imagine how I felt when you walked in the door. I thought it was your ghost. I had just told the congregation I was expecting a call from Brother Browning any moment telling of your passing. We had just started the singing when the door opened and you came walking down the aisle. I couldn't believe my eyes. Please-Please-tell us about it, Marilyn."

  Scarcely any of the people had left the church and they crowded around me and as I related the miracle that God had performed on my body, much praise and rejoicing could be heard all over the chapel.

  I thank God for all the pain I endured. It was worth it all to see the hand of God working through the faith of a child; and see the ones saved that had been too hard to reach.

  Marilyn Browning

  California

  (Taken from the book, When God Stepped In by Margaret Gouge, 2010 Meadow Lake Drive, Jefferson City, Mo. 65109-2013. Used by permission.)

  An Eighty-eight-year-old Man Saved

  It gives me great pleasure to relate the following miracle of God's mercy and grace. In 1970, a young evangelist, Paul Gray, was conducting a revival at our little church in Tioga, Louisiana. I became burdened for my elderly father-in-law's spiritual condition as he was eighty-eight years old and had never been saved. I discussed it with my husband and he went to see him and invited him to the revival, and offered to furnish transportation for him. (My mother-in-law was deceased.) Not only did "Papa" come to church that night, but he was anxious to come the next night as well. God put him under old-fashioned conviction and he was gloriously saved, a mighty miracle of God's grace. Brother Glenn

  Griffith said he was the oldest convert he had ever met in his ministry. People's hearts, as a whole, are hardened by the time they reach that age, if they've never gone to church and it's hard for God to reach them. So we were thrilled beyond measure at God's mercy to Papa, and so happy that he heeded God's voice when He spoke to him.

  Papa lived eighteen years after this and went to church as long as he was able. He was a blessing to all who knew him. The last few years were spent in a rest home where he had to be tube fed, but he was a patient sufferer. He died at the ripe old age of one hundred six years old and the following memorial was given at his funeral.