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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."
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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.