Read Online My Glimpse of Eternity by Betty Malz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Betty Malz
Ads: Link
churches both structurally and spiritually.
There are men who sire children, but are not fathers. There are mothers who are merely incubators. You and Mother have nurtured me, introduced me to God. You were my first church, and this child’s first university.
Your ugliest daughter,
(the only one too)
Betsy
Tears streaming down his face, Dad told me later how he sat there for a long time, praying for the faith to believe that his only daughter could get well. Then he remembered another time years before when he had no faith at all. Glenn Perkins was twenty-two, newly married, and barely making a living back in 1930 as a mechanic in a glass factory. His young wife, Fern, was desperately sick with uremic poisoning. Her fingernails had turned purple. The doctor had packed her in ice to bring down her temperature and felt an operation might give her a fifty-fifty chance to live.
A group of Fern’s church friends and the pastor came to pray. They were so noisy about it that Glenn, a nonbeliever, took off for the woods. Hours later he returned to find his wife standing in the middle of the room singing hymns and praising God. She had been healed.
After this example of a miracle-working God, Glenn Perkins began studying the Bible and attending services. One night he was reading the second chapter of Acts.
“Suddenly the black Bible began to glow in my hands,” he told us later. “It seemed to be on fire. Then the house began to shake. It was the Upper Room all over again. I shouted at Fern: ‘Pray for me, honey. Something’s wrong.’ I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think I could stand it.”
At the next church service my father went forward and accepted Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. When this happened, I was six months old.
Dad then began attending Bible school in his spare time, while making a living as a carpenter. In the fall of 1932 my father was impressed by a visiting preacher named Kenneth Wilkerson, who was starting a new church in nearby Attica, Indiana. Wilkerson’s congregation was meeting above a grocery store. Dad was hired as a carpenter by Pastor Wilkinson to help build a new church, using volunteers from the congregation.
It was a severe winter, volunteers were scarce and Kenneth Wilkerson and my father did most of the construction themselves. It was so cold and money was so scarce that Dad often had to round up sacks of dried corncobs from a feed mill to burn in the potbellied stove to keep them warm while they worked. When the church was finished, my father stayed on to assist Kenneth Wilkerson, teaching, leading the singing, and counseling young people.
One of Kenneth Wilkerson’s sons was a boy named David. He was a mixed-up youth, bored with the church and skeptical of the spiritual convictions of his parents. Then the Holy Spirit touched David Wilkerson and revolutionized his life. Later, when David was led by God to come to New York City to minister to disturbed teenagers, this marked the beginning of Teen Challenge and formed the basis for The Cross and the Switchblade , David Wilkerson’s internationally bestselling book.
Although he could barely provide for his family during those depression years of the thirties, my father could not deny the call of God on his life. As he sat at his desk praying for me that bleak summer night in 1959, feeling strong assaults on his faith, Dad remembered another occasion when the Lord used him in a dramatic way.
It happened in the middle of a snowy night in the early thirties. Dad suddenly awoke. One unsuccessful effort to go back to sleep made him realize that the Lord had awakened him and wanted him to do something. Mother was sleeping serenely beside him, and everything in the house seemed to be in order.
Then he was given a message in the form of a clear, strong inner directive. He was told to go down to the business district of west Terre Haute. Someone was there in desperate need. This was a time when Indiana was hard-hit by the
There are men who sire children, but are not fathers. There are mothers who are merely incubators. You and Mother have nurtured me, introduced me to God. You were my first church, and this child’s first university.
Your ugliest daughter,
(the only one too)
Betsy
Tears streaming down his face, Dad told me later how he sat there for a long time, praying for the faith to believe that his only daughter could get well. Then he remembered another time years before when he had no faith at all. Glenn Perkins was twenty-two, newly married, and barely making a living back in 1930 as a mechanic in a glass factory. His young wife, Fern, was desperately sick with uremic poisoning. Her fingernails had turned purple. The doctor had packed her in ice to bring down her temperature and felt an operation might give her a fifty-fifty chance to live.
A group of Fern’s church friends and the pastor came to pray. They were so noisy about it that Glenn, a nonbeliever, took off for the woods. Hours later he returned to find his wife standing in the middle of the room singing hymns and praising God. She had been healed.
After this example of a miracle-working God, Glenn Perkins began studying the Bible and attending services. One night he was reading the second chapter of Acts.
“Suddenly the black Bible began to glow in my hands,” he told us later. “It seemed to be on fire. Then the house began to shake. It was the Upper Room all over again. I shouted at Fern: ‘Pray for me, honey. Something’s wrong.’ I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think I could stand it.”
At the next church service my father went forward and accepted Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. When this happened, I was six months old.
Dad then began attending Bible school in his spare time, while making a living as a carpenter. In the fall of 1932 my father was impressed by a visiting preacher named Kenneth Wilkerson, who was starting a new church in nearby Attica, Indiana. Wilkerson’s congregation was meeting above a grocery store. Dad was hired as a carpenter by Pastor Wilkinson to help build a new church, using volunteers from the congregation.
It was a severe winter, volunteers were scarce and Kenneth Wilkerson and my father did most of the construction themselves. It was so cold and money was so scarce that Dad often had to round up sacks of dried corncobs from a feed mill to burn in the potbellied stove to keep them warm while they worked. When the church was finished, my father stayed on to assist Kenneth Wilkerson, teaching, leading the singing, and counseling young people.
One of Kenneth Wilkerson’s sons was a boy named David. He was a mixed-up youth, bored with the church and skeptical of the spiritual convictions of his parents. Then the Holy Spirit touched David Wilkerson and revolutionized his life. Later, when David was led by God to come to New York City to minister to disturbed teenagers, this marked the beginning of Teen Challenge and formed the basis for The Cross and the Switchblade , David Wilkerson’s internationally bestselling book.
Although he could barely provide for his family during those depression years of the thirties, my father could not deny the call of God on his life. As he sat at his desk praying for me that bleak summer night in 1959, feeling strong assaults on his faith, Dad remembered another occasion when the Lord used him in a dramatic way.
It happened in the middle of a snowy night in the early thirties. Dad suddenly awoke. One unsuccessful effort to go back to sleep made him realize that the Lord had awakened him and wanted him to do something. Mother was sleeping serenely beside him, and everything in the house seemed to be in order.
Then he was given a message in the form of a clear, strong inner directive. He was told to go down to the business district of west Terre Haute. Someone was there in desperate need. This was a time when Indiana was hard-hit by the
Similar Books
