Personal Experiences of S. O. Susag

by S. O. Susag

One time I was holding a meeting in the neighborhood where a young man lived who was one of our first converts, and he attended my services. One day he asked me if I would go home with him. I said, "Yes." On the way, he stopped me and said, "Have you got grace enough?" I answered, "I think so." Finally we got near his home, and in a little grove he stopped me again and he repeated, "Have you got grace enough?" I answered again, "I think so, but if you think I need more, let us pray that the Lord will give me all that I need." We knelt down in the grove there and prayed. Coming into the house he introduced me to his mother, a fine looking lady. We sat down and had a friendly chat, and before I knew it, I said, "Praise the Lord."

"Oh," she said, "You are one of them are you?" Then she gave me a real tongue lashing. This was because several of her sons and daughters had gotten saved, and they were very much persecuted because they left their church. Sometimes when she would find Olaf on his knees praying, she would grab him by the hair and pull him around in the house.

Finally her husband came in, and she introduced me to him.

"Susag," he said, "are you the husband of that witch over near Paynesville or Hawick, that goes singing and fingering on the strings on that box, getting people to weep and taking them away from their parents?" (Wife played a harp when she sang.) "You get out of this house as fast as your feet can carry you."

I took my hat and started for the door, and as I came near, he stood there with his hatchet in his hand and said, "If you come nearer, I will smash your head," and lifted the hatchet. I realized the man was so angry he did not know what he was saying, so I went back and sat down. "Say, Mr. Erickson," I said, "sit down, and let me tell you how the Lord saved us." "Alright," he answered. His wife said, "Get him out, get him out!" Then he answered, "Let him speak out of his heart. It is the first time he has ever been in our house." "No," she said, "Get him out." "No, no, wife, be quiet." And he sat down and I related how the Lord convicted wife and I. (We used to be of the same faith as they were.) When I had told them our experience, he came over and put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "You can stay with us over night, but don't say anything about your religion."

I thanked him and said, "We have services tonight, and I have to be going."

Later on Brother Peter Peterson of Foboken, New Jersey and myself held a meeting in that neighborhood and went and called on Mr. Erickson, and had a very pleasant visit with him. Brother Peterson had been a rough seaman and he told him of his life, and how the Lord had convicted and saved him. That seemed to impress him.

Years later Olaf bought the farm and his parents moved to another house. One morning Mr. Erickson did not come in for breakfast, and his wife went to his bedroom to see what was the matter. There he was on his knees by the bed praying. The first time she had ever seen him doing so in that position. He got up and said, "yes, I am coming." She went back to the kitchen, but still he did not come; so she went back to call him. Again he was on his knees by the bed. She said, "Aren't you coming husband. The breakfast is getting cold." He answered again, "Yes, I'm coming." But he did not come yet. She went back the third time, and on his knees he was, and this time he was dead. No doubt the man had been calling upon God, and the Bible says, "Whosoever calleth on the name of the Lord shall be saved." Hundreds of prayers had gone up for those folks. After his death Mrs. Erickson went to stay with her oldest daughter at Westlake, Minnesota. After being there for some time she took very sick, and she said to her daughter, "Will you send for the preacher?" Yes, she said, "What is his address?" (thinking she wanted her own pastor). "No," she said, "I want your pastor, Brother Susag." I went and at the end of three days, she got gloriously saved and got well. Later on she took sick again and passed on, and because I was in Europe at the time, my wife conducted the funeral service. What looks hopeless with man can be changed by prayer.

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At one time when Olae Christaphersen was selling books in the country between Grove City and Litchfield, Minnesota, he came to a home where quite a number were weeping and he asked why they were so sad. The lady of the house replied, "Our daughter, a young lady, is in the bedroom dying, and husband has gone to town to get the coffin, as she stinks already." (Those days they took the coffin to the homes sometimes). He inquired if he could see her, and she said, yes. After standing looking at her a while, he knelt and laid his hands on her and prayed the prayer of faith, and the Lord raised her up. Years later he was selling books in N. Dakota. He came to a nice farm home and knocking at the door a fine looking lady opened the door. Surprising him, she said, "Come in." Unused to such courtesy, he hesitated a moment, and she said again, "Come in, I know you. I am the lady you prayed for down by Litchfield, Minnesota, whose father had gone to the undertaker to arrange for the funeral. I am married and this is my home."