My Testimony (part 1)
I was born into a very godly home, the 7th child. My birth father died in a head-on collision with a drunk driver when I was a baby. My mother remarried 2 years later, and bore 2 more children. The only father I can remember, we called, "Papa."
Both Mama and Papa loved the Lord. I remember every morning, family devotions, before we ate breakfast. Papa would say, "If we're too hurried to have devotions, then we're too hurried to eat breakfast!" We would first sing a hymn, then Papa would read a chapter from the Bible. Then we'd do memory work. I remember the whole family learning to recite the entire Sermon on the Mount when I was 5 years old. After that was children's songs, and then we'd kneel around the living room in a circle, and Papa would lead in prayer. This was normal daily life. We had no radio and no TV. The bookshelf contained the Encyclopedia, the Dictionary, quite a few children's books, a few Christian novels, and two shelves of doctrinal books. An avid reader, I devoured all of it, over and over!
I gave my heart to Jesus at age 8. How I remember the struggle! It was spring revivals, in April, and the speaker was so interesting! But night after night, I dreaded the invitation. I felt such heavy conviction! I knew God was calling me to that altar, but I resisted with everything in me!
And I couldn't understand why I was quaking so, inside. Like chills, but stronger. I wasn't cold. I was just quaking from the very center of my being. I never heard anyone else speak of ever feeling such a thing. So I didn't tell anyone.
Finally, the last night of the revival, as they were singing the last verse of "Just as I am," I gave in to God. And I really meant it. The next day, sister just older than I began to mock me, saying I was trying to be such a good little Christian now. That hurt. But I knew it wasn't an act. I truly wanted to love God with all my heart.
And I started reading my Bible. That verse in Zechariah saying, "ask ye of the Lord rain, in the time of the latter rain"... that verse dogged me. I asked, over and over. But I knew not what for.
I wish I could say I stayed faithful and obedient from that point on, but like every human, I fell over and over. Sometimes, I stayed down a while, because I liked it there. My early teens were a mess. I repented twice a year, at revivals. And at every altar call, I felt that quaking hit my innards again. I never spoke of it, because I never heard anyone else say they ever felt such a thing. But every altar call, I felt like I needed the ministers to pray for me. I knew not why, but I felt it so strongly!
When I was 16, I read the book, "Run, Baby, Run" by David Wilkerson. For the first time I heard of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and how I wanted it! I remember kneeling for hours in my bedroom, praying for the Baptism of the Spirit. But nothing happened.
But at 17, God did a supernatural work in me.
I had joined the traveling church chorus, and, I must say, we were pretty good! And that year, we did a trip across 6 states, singing a full service every evening.
I remember, the bus broke down (again!) and we were parked as the driver tinkered with the engine. People were getting up, milling around and socializing.
But I was playing "tired," head buried in my pillow.
I was so sick of sin. And I felt so unsure that God had forgiven me of it all. How I longed to know God on friendly terms, without all the guilt!
There was a tape of a men's quartet playing. And suddenly, it was just me and the Lord on that bus, with that Scripture song.
"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool..."
"Hear the voice that entreats you, oh return ye unto God, Look unto Him, ye people, saith the Lord, your God!... Though your sins be as scarlet..."
Hot tears soaked my pillow. I literally felt Jesus there, assuring me that my sins were indeed all washed away. That I did not stand before Him guilty. I was truly clean!
That was a major turning point for me. I knew Christ differently from that point on. And I had new-found victory. I loved the Lord with all my heart again, and didn't want to do anything to grieve my God.
But yet, all through my teen years, I felt that strange, persistent quaking hit the center of my being at every altar call. And I still desperately wanted the ministers to pray for me. I knew not why.
............
As one raised to believe a woman's highest goal in life was to marry and raise a family, I married the first person who said he loved me. And, as I had been taught, I tried to allow him to be my spiritual head. I tried to obey everything he told me to do. I wasn't perfect, but I tried.
We moved a lot. We changed churches a lot.There was so much instability! How my heart broke, as he turned his accusing spirit on me. I thought his fault was limited to others, and would never focus on destroying me. But within a decade, he threatened to leave if I didn't do exactly as he said, instead of as my conscience told me. And I gave in, because we had 2 children, and I loved him. I desperately fought to save my marriage for years.
During those years, God, by His grace, led us to a Mennonite-Pentecostal church, where the Holy Spirit had fallen several years earlier. And there, I began to ask again for the Baptism. I asked the ministers of that church to lay hands on me and pray for me to receive. This was done, and again, nothing happened. I was so disappointed! But they assured me to just "take it by faith!" They said "not everyone speaks in tongues: some receive silently, with no outward sign." So, I tried to be satisfied... but I was disappointed.
But the next year, by God's grace, I found myself in a little non-Mennonite Pentecostal church, where I was assured that if I hadn't spoken in tongues, I most certainly had NOT yet received the Baptism!
So, I began to seek the Lord again for the Baptism. It was a full year of persistent asking, seeking, and knocking, until suddenly God revealed to me His iron-clad promise in Luke 11:11-13, that
He would not allow His own child to receive a serpent, if I asked for the Holy Ghost!
And I realized I had been afraid. That was what had hindered me.
The very next week, prayer meeting started out very sleepy. Only about 10 people were there. And then, dear old Brother Wilson, about 85 years old, stood up and said, "God just spoke to me, and said there's someone here who's been asking for the Holy Spirit for a long time. And if that person will come up now, she'll receive tonight."
I was up there in a flash!
The group gathered around me and began, in true old fashioned Pentecostal style, to pray very loudly. And I started shutting down. I was offended. That wasn't my way. I did things quietly.
But then I remembered. God said I could have it tonight! It was up to me to receive.
And a thought occurred to me: God's not offended at their loudness. Why should I be?
So I threw my stubborn resistance out of the way and just jumped in with both feet!
I opened my heart and soul wide to the Lord, and SUDDENLY... that familiar deep quaking HIT ME in the very center of my being! But it was magnified so much, it felt like I was standing under a tremendous, gushing, thundering waterfall! But instead of hitting me from above, it began to flow out from my very center.
I landed halfway down the aisle, on my back. But I was still as silent as ever, though I FELT Him!
And a little old grandmother leaned over me, saying, "Sister Mary Ellen, the Holy Ghost is all over you. He wants to use your tongue, but He's not going to make your voice work. You've got to open your mouth, and give Him something to work with!"
And the light went on! So that's how it worked!
I opened my mouth and started to say, "I praise Your Name, Jesus."
But what came out wasn't anything my brain formulated.
It was something related to Spanish or Italian. And it flowed, and flowed, and flowed. Full sentences... paragraphs... chapters!
For 2 hours, it flowed. I wept. I laughed.
At last, it stilled. And I felt so incredibly at peace. So... incredibly clean. So quiet inside. So joyful!
I got up and walked quietly to the restroom. Didn't want to talk to anyone.
Church was over. People were standing around, talking. I had nothing to say.
It was the deepest peace I had ever known.
.......
Years passed. And one day, I was abandoned with two children to raise on my own.
Those were unspeakably heartbreaking days.
I remember the long sleepless nights, when I had wept until no more tears would come.
And then, one night at 2 a.m., I looked up to heaven, and said,
"Holy Ghost, you're the Comforter. I need you now. Would you comfort me?"
I just held my hands open, and out, and waited.
In a couple of minutes, I FELT PHYSICAL ARMS go around me, like a warm blanket.
And I began to laugh softly.
From weeping until I had no more tears, night after night, to sudden joy, in His Holy Presence.
THAT'S what the Comforter is for.
....
About 10 years later, I was again in a Mennonite church, where I returned to raise my children. And truly, my family was a great help during those years when I had to work and try to keep a roof over our heads. How I love my family! They are truly gentle, loving, God-fearing people.
But I came to a crossroads...
I'll tell you about it in my next post.
Stay tuned!
Both Mama and Papa loved the Lord. I remember every morning, family devotions, before we ate breakfast. Papa would say, "If we're too hurried to have devotions, then we're too hurried to eat breakfast!" We would first sing a hymn, then Papa would read a chapter from the Bible. Then we'd do memory work. I remember the whole family learning to recite the entire Sermon on the Mount when I was 5 years old. After that was children's songs, and then we'd kneel around the living room in a circle, and Papa would lead in prayer. This was normal daily life. We had no radio and no TV. The bookshelf contained the Encyclopedia, the Dictionary, quite a few children's books, a few Christian novels, and two shelves of doctrinal books. An avid reader, I devoured all of it, over and over!
I gave my heart to Jesus at age 8. How I remember the struggle! It was spring revivals, in April, and the speaker was so interesting! But night after night, I dreaded the invitation. I felt such heavy conviction! I knew God was calling me to that altar, but I resisted with everything in me!
And I couldn't understand why I was quaking so, inside. Like chills, but stronger. I wasn't cold. I was just quaking from the very center of my being. I never heard anyone else speak of ever feeling such a thing. So I didn't tell anyone.
Finally, the last night of the revival, as they were singing the last verse of "Just as I am," I gave in to God. And I really meant it. The next day, sister just older than I began to mock me, saying I was trying to be such a good little Christian now. That hurt. But I knew it wasn't an act. I truly wanted to love God with all my heart.
And I started reading my Bible. That verse in Zechariah saying, "ask ye of the Lord rain, in the time of the latter rain"... that verse dogged me. I asked, over and over. But I knew not what for.
I wish I could say I stayed faithful and obedient from that point on, but like every human, I fell over and over. Sometimes, I stayed down a while, because I liked it there. My early teens were a mess. I repented twice a year, at revivals. And at every altar call, I felt that quaking hit my innards again. I never spoke of it, because I never heard anyone else say they ever felt such a thing. But every altar call, I felt like I needed the ministers to pray for me. I knew not why, but I felt it so strongly!
When I was 16, I read the book, "Run, Baby, Run" by David Wilkerson. For the first time I heard of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and how I wanted it! I remember kneeling for hours in my bedroom, praying for the Baptism of the Spirit. But nothing happened.
But at 17, God did a supernatural work in me.
I had joined the traveling church chorus, and, I must say, we were pretty good! And that year, we did a trip across 6 states, singing a full service every evening.
I remember, the bus broke down (again!) and we were parked as the driver tinkered with the engine. People were getting up, milling around and socializing.
But I was playing "tired," head buried in my pillow.
I was so sick of sin. And I felt so unsure that God had forgiven me of it all. How I longed to know God on friendly terms, without all the guilt!
There was a tape of a men's quartet playing. And suddenly, it was just me and the Lord on that bus, with that Scripture song.
"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool..."
"Hear the voice that entreats you, oh return ye unto God, Look unto Him, ye people, saith the Lord, your God!... Though your sins be as scarlet..."
Hot tears soaked my pillow. I literally felt Jesus there, assuring me that my sins were indeed all washed away. That I did not stand before Him guilty. I was truly clean!
That was a major turning point for me. I knew Christ differently from that point on. And I had new-found victory. I loved the Lord with all my heart again, and didn't want to do anything to grieve my God.
But yet, all through my teen years, I felt that strange, persistent quaking hit the center of my being at every altar call. And I still desperately wanted the ministers to pray for me. I knew not why.
............
As one raised to believe a woman's highest goal in life was to marry and raise a family, I married the first person who said he loved me. And, as I had been taught, I tried to allow him to be my spiritual head. I tried to obey everything he told me to do. I wasn't perfect, but I tried.
We moved a lot. We changed churches a lot.There was so much instability! How my heart broke, as he turned his accusing spirit on me. I thought his fault was limited to others, and would never focus on destroying me. But within a decade, he threatened to leave if I didn't do exactly as he said, instead of as my conscience told me. And I gave in, because we had 2 children, and I loved him. I desperately fought to save my marriage for years.
During those years, God, by His grace, led us to a Mennonite-Pentecostal church, where the Holy Spirit had fallen several years earlier. And there, I began to ask again for the Baptism. I asked the ministers of that church to lay hands on me and pray for me to receive. This was done, and again, nothing happened. I was so disappointed! But they assured me to just "take it by faith!" They said "not everyone speaks in tongues: some receive silently, with no outward sign." So, I tried to be satisfied... but I was disappointed.
But the next year, by God's grace, I found myself in a little non-Mennonite Pentecostal church, where I was assured that if I hadn't spoken in tongues, I most certainly had NOT yet received the Baptism!
So, I began to seek the Lord again for the Baptism. It was a full year of persistent asking, seeking, and knocking, until suddenly God revealed to me His iron-clad promise in Luke 11:11-13, that
He would not allow His own child to receive a serpent, if I asked for the Holy Ghost!
And I realized I had been afraid. That was what had hindered me.
The very next week, prayer meeting started out very sleepy. Only about 10 people were there. And then, dear old Brother Wilson, about 85 years old, stood up and said, "God just spoke to me, and said there's someone here who's been asking for the Holy Spirit for a long time. And if that person will come up now, she'll receive tonight."
I was up there in a flash!
The group gathered around me and began, in true old fashioned Pentecostal style, to pray very loudly. And I started shutting down. I was offended. That wasn't my way. I did things quietly.
But then I remembered. God said I could have it tonight! It was up to me to receive.
And a thought occurred to me: God's not offended at their loudness. Why should I be?
So I threw my stubborn resistance out of the way and just jumped in with both feet!
I opened my heart and soul wide to the Lord, and SUDDENLY... that familiar deep quaking HIT ME in the very center of my being! But it was magnified so much, it felt like I was standing under a tremendous, gushing, thundering waterfall! But instead of hitting me from above, it began to flow out from my very center.
I landed halfway down the aisle, on my back. But I was still as silent as ever, though I FELT Him!
And a little old grandmother leaned over me, saying, "Sister Mary Ellen, the Holy Ghost is all over you. He wants to use your tongue, but He's not going to make your voice work. You've got to open your mouth, and give Him something to work with!"
And the light went on! So that's how it worked!
I opened my mouth and started to say, "I praise Your Name, Jesus."
But what came out wasn't anything my brain formulated.
It was something related to Spanish or Italian. And it flowed, and flowed, and flowed. Full sentences... paragraphs... chapters!
For 2 hours, it flowed. I wept. I laughed.
At last, it stilled. And I felt so incredibly at peace. So... incredibly clean. So quiet inside. So joyful!
I got up and walked quietly to the restroom. Didn't want to talk to anyone.
Church was over. People were standing around, talking. I had nothing to say.
It was the deepest peace I had ever known.
.......
Years passed. And one day, I was abandoned with two children to raise on my own.
Those were unspeakably heartbreaking days.
I remember the long sleepless nights, when I had wept until no more tears would come.
And then, one night at 2 a.m., I looked up to heaven, and said,
"Holy Ghost, you're the Comforter. I need you now. Would you comfort me?"
I just held my hands open, and out, and waited.
In a couple of minutes, I FELT PHYSICAL ARMS go around me, like a warm blanket.
And I began to laugh softly.
From weeping until I had no more tears, night after night, to sudden joy, in His Holy Presence.
THAT'S what the Comforter is for.
....
About 10 years later, I was again in a Mennonite church, where I returned to raise my children. And truly, my family was a great help during those years when I had to work and try to keep a roof over our heads. How I love my family! They are truly gentle, loving, God-fearing people.
But I came to a crossroads...
I'll tell you about it in my next post.
Stay tuned!
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