G. C. Bevington, Remarkable Incidents And Modern Miracles Through Prayer And Faith
Unanswered prayers avail nothing. ‘Tis the prayers that get through that will count for us
and for those for whom they are offered. So, mothers, don’t be careless or indifferent in your praying. God wants real, earnest, effectual, prevailing prayers. Many prayers are heard and answered, as we often hear Him say to the recording angel: “Get your file and record that prayer, it has a good sound, clear ring to it; so we will have to put it on file ready for adjustment.” God does the giving, and we do the taking; so what we do not take we do not get. God cannot give us what we will not take.
“God has His choice things for the few
Who dare to stand the test;
God has His second choice for those
Who will not have His best.”
In which crowd are you?
“Faith drops out where our doubts step in,
And faith stops just where doubts begin.”
“Faith, mighty faith, the promise sees,
And looks to that alone;
Laughs at impossibilities,
And cries, ‘It shall be done!’”
Yes, it shall be done! Amen! If you are now ailing, now suffering, look up; count the
healing done, and it shall be done. Hallelujah! “According to your faith;” not according to how long you have had the trouble, or how it has baffled all efforts; no, but “according to your faith.” So look up, count it done now. If healing depended on our “shalls” or “is”, it would be quite different; but listen, ’tis a “shall,” uttered by our omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent God. Hallelujah! We have a right to trust Him to the limit, and count it done. God wants men and women with iron in their blood, and fire in their bones, and a pick and a shovel and a subsoil plow to turn something up. Amen and Amen! We sometimes get to the place where we can’t pray the prayer of faith; as we may be too weak or suffering too intensely, which lessens our faculties, and renders us incapacitated for prayer.
I was one of the first students in God’s Bible School, Cincinnati; and about a month before
the first term closed, I was taken down with acute neuralgia. It was very painful and kept getting worse. I went to bed at 9:30 p. m., as I was working down town for my board and going up to the school afternoons for recitations, Bible review, and other lessons. That was before I had stepped out entirely on healing, but I was not taking any remedies. So after about a week of suffering I woke up one night at midnight, and I think I never was in such misery as then. Well, I tried to pray; but I was in too much misery and began to cry out to God to make someone else pray for me. I said, “O God, wake someone up who will pray for me.” I plead that for about ten minutes, when I began to get better, and in thirty minutes the suffering was all gone, and I was sound asleep. I was sure God had answered.
In about ten days I received a letter from California, stating that at such a morning about
1:00 a. m., the writer was awakened, and a voice said, “Get up and pray for Bevington.” Well, she did not know where I was, but knew that my last address was Cincinnati, Ohio. She said, “Oh, I am so sleepy,” and tried to go back to sleep; but that voice kept calling her. She spoke to her husband; but he said, “Oh, you are just dreaming that; Bevington can do his own praying; you ate too much supper last night, go to sleep, don’t bother about Bevington; he will pull through all right.” Well, she tried to go to sleep, but could not for that voice ringing in her ears. Her husband said, “Well, I guess you had better get up; it doesn’t matter where he is, you get up.” She did so, and the moment her knees struck the floor she was engulfed with great misery in her head. She told her husband to get up, and go to praying. He, being a blessedly saved man, got up, and ’twas the same with him; he was taken with severe shooting pains in his head. So they clasped hands across the bed, he on one side, she on the other; and in seven minutes their pains stopped, and so did mine. They knew that they had reached the throne in my behalf. So you see God had to wake someone up away over in California. That was the first time I ever did that and have never done it since. I don’t know when I may; but the lesson is, that we must mind God regardless of how things look.
When God told Samuel to anoint David, a stripling sheep herder, to be a king, Samuel
know that Saul had not been dethroned but was yet their actual king, and that to anoint another would be equal to treason; yet in face of all this and the danger of being killed, he minded God. Now you may ask, was it necessary or best for me to rub my temples for relief occasionally and then to be praying for someone else to rub them when I knew it would be impossible to get anyone?” Well, was it necessary for Samuel to make a sacrifice offering in order to save his life? Samuel had said, “Why, Lord, if I go down there and anoint David king, Saul will kill me, as he is the lawful, legal king, and is now on the throne.” Now, you tell me why God allowed him to make a feast, and so on. God has to appeal to the human at times, in order to create or stimulate our faith and often to overthrow our own plans.
While at Ashland Heights, I was called one evening to come over to Fairview to preach;
and as I went by Brother Wamsley’s in Pollard, I stopped to get them to go along. Brother Wamsley was on his porch. He came out, and I said, “Are you and your wife going over?” “Well, I guess not; wife has been suffering for three days with neuralgia, and dare not go out, and I don’t want to leave her, as she is suffering now really beyond her strength.” I said, “Tell her to come out.” “Why, Brother Bevington, she dare not expose herself to the air; she would not live ten minutes.” “Tell her to come out.” Well, he stood there astonished at my ridiculous request, but I repeated, “Tell her to come out.” “Why, she would not dare to venture out a moment.” “Tell her to come out.” I just stood there repeating this wild request, and praying, until they got tired of hearing it, and out she came, with her head all tied up. I bowed my head, pleaded the promises, standing there on the street where others, who were unsaved, were loo king on. I raised my hand, claimed her healing, stood still counting the work done, and in fifteen minutes I heard a whoop, and off came the bandages, and she had a shouting spell right there.
I started on to Fairview, praying the Lord to send them over. About halfway over, I said,
“Boys, she is coming; she will be there soon after we get there.” They said, “Oh, I reckon not, as she has been in a critical condition, and ‘twould be dangerous for her to attempt it.” I said, “She is coming.” We had just begun singing when in she came, shouting and swinging her sunbonnet. She just set the whole house on fire, and at the altar service she was all aglow with the power of God on her, and prayed a poor, discouraged backslider through. To Jesus be all the glory!
A sister in South Ashland was, as the doctor said, on her deathbed with consumption. I was
invited over, and went with a sister. I had read a chapter and got on my knees, pleaded earnestly, got the victory. I claimed her healing, jumped up, grabbed my hat and rushed out, saying, “She will be out of there in ten minutes.” I had not gotten out of their yard until she was out of that bed, praising God for complete healing. She went to the Pilgrim Holiness Church of which Rev. John Fleming was pastor and testified to her healing. Brother John witnessed her healing.
He will testify to being healed more than once, as will his dear faithful wife. The first year
after he moved to Ashland, from Willard, his saintly wife was on her bed very sick. He sent me word, and I prayed for her that night. I got blessed during prayer, and claimed her healing; but the next afternoon he drove up on the hill after me, saying that his wife was very much worse. I jumped into his buggy and went with him to her room. There she lay, speechless, and very much resembling a lifeless form. I fell on my face in the corner, to ascertain whether God wanted to heal her or not. I lay there over an hour; then being satisfied that He wanted to heal her, I rose on my knees, laid my hand on her cold brow. Soon she opened her eyes, and smiled, and the glory fell. Brother John shouted, “Brother Bevington, she is healed.” I jumped up, walked the floor about five minutes, then went out and got into the buggy, and drove down town rejoicing over her healing, though all the visible evidence she had given was th e opening of her eyes and smiling. But the glory flooded me all the way down town. I did my errand, came back under the power of God, and found her up praising God. So Satan was foiled there. Hallelujah to Jesus’ dear name!
I had a number of cases of healing while at South Ashland, but can’t remember the details. I remember while at Willard, in 1917, a case was reported of a very sick woman. She had been in bed six weeks, looked quite helpless, and was a backslider. The children needed care, and the house was pretty well littered up. As I approached I felt intense darkness; but I said, “Can I afford to let this woman die unsaved? ” I went to prayer and had a struggle, as everything seemed so dark; but I kept praying and dynamiting and blasting until, finally, after two hours, in tunnels and caves, I began to see streaks of light. I will never forget how that encouraged me. I don’t remember when I was so grateful as there in that dark home; as everything seemed against me except, I think, five children that appealed to me, and I took them as my reasons for pleading for her healing. As I went to praising God quite softly, the clouds began to lift, and my faith seemed to be climbing the rugged peaks, from one to another. Though rather quiet, I claimed her healing, and got up, and met the brother who had sent me there. He said, “Well, what did you do? ” I said, “I believe she will be out of that bed soon.” I went up to the home of Frank Fleming, a brother to the Fleming preachers, John and Bona. This was nearly a mile from where the sick woman lived, and I heard nothing from her during the night, or early in the morning. So I refused breakfast, and held on with good encouragement, and kept pushing right up the hill for two hours after I got up. Then I said, “Lord ’tis done! ‘Tis done! ‘Tis done!” At the third utterance, Sister Fleming came to the door, and said, “Oh, Brother Bevington, just listen; that woman is out yelling like an Indian.” I had claimed her victory, and was rejoicing, sweeping through the clouds, mounting the more delectable heights, praising God for her healing. Well, she just leaped the fences, ran from one house to another, shouting and praising God for healing and reclaiming her.
TO THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS IN THE LORD, SCATTERED ABROAD:
I want to take the advantage of this opportunity to testify to all to the glory of Him who
said, “I am the Lord that healeth thee.” I am praising the Lord today for healing me of a severe case of gallstones. I feel like saying sometimes, This one thing I know, that whereas I was sick, I am now well. Praise the Lord! Since the flu swept the country, I had been a victim of gallstones which developed after I had the flu. I had always been a believer in Divine healing, but I never could get faith strong enough for the healing of my own body. I remembered that the Bible says: “If two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done;” so I wrote to Brother G. C. Bevington, who was at Kingswood, Kentucky, at that time. He joined with me in prayer in behalf of my body; and on January 2, 1921, the Lord wonderfully and instantly healed me. Ever since, I have been trusting Him for constant good health; and He gives it, praise His name! Of course the devil tries to tell me that I am not healed and that I still have the gallstones; but I know that I was healed. So I get the victory over the old devil, and go on praising the Lord. Amen!
Knowing that there are so many people destitute of faith for the healing of their own
bodies, I want to say that it is not an easy thing to give up all remedies and trust the Lord; for the devil would like to keep us sick, and would even like to kill us. So it takes a lot of encouragement and trusting and prayer and light on how to trust the Lord for complete victory over the devil. I have often wondered if I would have been healed, if it had not been for the wonderful letters of encouragement and light I received from Brother Bevington while he was praying for me. He has such a matured experience, and such a grip on God; and he has undaunted faith, especially on Divine healing.
R. W. Wolfe, Fort Gay, W. Va.
I went over to Ironton, Ohio, taught a class in Sunday school and met an old acquaintance,
whom I had not seen for several years. He had been healed in the country. I was called to his home to pray for his wife’s healing. I soon said, “Sister, are you sure that you are a sanctified woman?” She had claimed that experience. She broke out crying, and said, “No, brother, I am not and never have been. I thought I was once, and have testified to it here in the church, as I was told to claim it and testify to it.”
Now here is danger. I never ask people to testify to sanctification until they are sure they
are sanctified. I encourage them to take it by faith if they and I are satisfied that their consecration is complete. Then they may say that they have taken sanctification by faith, and believe that they are sanctified, and stand on that. Never say that you are sanctified until you know it. This sister was doing what holiness preachers told her to do, as they are supposed to know. But when she got down face to face with God in that prayer circle, God revealed to her that she was never sanctified. Well, I just turned my whole outfit in another direction from that which she was aiming at, and poured out my desires that she might have a real revelation, a real heart searching. She rose up, saying, “Oh, brother, I want the real thing this time! ” So I loaded up heavier, and bombarded the citadel of hell pretty strong for about two hours, when suddenly she was laid out as white as could be. I just kept up the firing until she made an unconditional surrender, which she did in about an hour; and, I tell you, she took the house sure. Then she settled down, saying, “Oh, glory, I know ’tis done now!”
When the bombarding ceased and the smoke cleared away, I heard someone groaning. I
looked behind me, and there lay a son about sixteen, crying for salvation. So I turned my guns on him, and in ninety minutes he was shouting. He grabbed me and carried me all over the room. We had a great praise service. Then I said, “Now, sister, how about that sickness that you called me here to pray for?” “Oh,” she said, “I had forgotten all about that. I guess that is gone with the ‘old man’.” And sure enough it was. So we need to be ready for most anything these days. I just carry a full kit with me all the time, so as to be ready for any emergency.
Here is an incident which occurred in Ashland Heights. I was going down the hill from the
church, and slipped and sprained my ankle. Well, it was quite painful; but I went on, walked down town and back. My foot pained some on my return, but I did not bother the Lord with it; as I considered it most too small a matter to bring to Him. However, next morning, it was quite painful and so swollen that I could not get my shoe on. The joint was stiff, and I could not move the foot. I had planned to put out tracts that day, and saw that something had to be done, and that right away. When I had done my dishes and put them all away, I got the Word and opened it and saw where the lame man was healed instantly. Well, as I plunged down that trail, I was scooping up power at every word, so that by the time I had reached the place where it says, “Immediately his ankle bone received strength,” I dropped the Bible, and shouted, “Yes, and here is the same!” I jumped up, leaping and shouting, and was perfectly healed right t hen and there. I tell you I well remember that morning. How the glory did fall! Ah, God will heal.
I see here a record of getting a letter about Bertha Bolander, a former student of God’s
Bible School. ‘Twas a special letter from the husband, stating that his wife was in the hospital with no hopes of recovery. So I took the letter and the Bible, and spent nineteen hours pleading for her. I saw her rise up and raise her hand, as plainly as I ever saw anything, though she was two hundred miles from me. Well, you might again ask, “Why did it take that long; inasmuch as she was suffering so and needed immediate help?”
Well, as usual it took me some time to get still, as many other cases were clamoring for a
hearing. Satan is always around to remind us of the many important cases that we ought to attend to. He knows that will divert us from the main line, switch us off, and blockade the whole thing. So it took hours to find out whether the Lord wanted to heal her. It took only two hours to see her raised up after seventeen hours were spent in getting the mind of Jesus. Many devices of Satan were used to head me off. I would get drowsy, sleepy, and unconcerned, all of which were only to get me discouraged, and to drop the case. But I felt that the case was worthy of my best efforts; and I well remember that while I was pleading, I brought pretty good reasons for her speedy recovery. But I would be met by about as reasonable logic as I was presenting, from a natural standpoint. Particular stress was put on the point that we must not close our eyes to the natural; that as God is the founder of natural laws, we must give heed to them. All of these arguments present a pretty broad and solid front, somewhat difficult to break through at times, especially if others are clamoring for attention. But I would and did continue the fight for her life. I saw her lying just like a corpse, but I did not give up at that. Satan said, “She is now dead. There is no use putting in any more time on her case. You have been very faithful and done your best, putting in seventeen hour of your valuable time.” Well, you see all this was tinged with logic, if it was somewhat flattery; but I still fought all this logic and rose from my face, demanding immediate attention. I held up the Bible, saying, “Lord, Thou dost hear; Thou art interested in Thy children. Keep Satan off. Is she dead? I am now listening to Thee.”
Soon the scene changed, the clouds vanished, and no more logical presentations were
given. I said, “Lord, I can’t believe she is dead.” Now listen; this is what was given me. “The
afflictions of the righteous are many, but the Lord delivereth from them all.” I grabbed my Bible, and began praising God and soon had the evidence that she was not only alive but healed. Oh, Hallelujah! How the glory did fall! In a few days I received notice of her sudden recovery.
Sister G. L. Medler’s healing,
at Kingswood, Kentucky, May, 1921.
I want to tell that God has wonderfully relieved me of my severe suffering. Divine healing
is wonderful. First, it shows God’s wonderful love for us. I have been Divinely healed many times, though this time seems more wonderful because the suffering had been of so long duration. When a girl in my teens, I was taken with a very severe case of rheumatism; and I do not know that I was ever free entirely from suffering from that time until now. Praise the Lord, He has removed the suffering! Many physicians did their best to relieve me, though the disease only tightened its already fastened fangs. As time went on, I think there was none of my flesh or sinew but had through and through, many, many times, this sawing, cutting, gnawing pain. No joint or nerve had escaped this continual suffering. When I slept, my hands swelled, the joints becoming stiff and useless. When the worse suffering settled in my hands, they would be out of shape, so they hardly looked like human hands. Then the severe suffering would move to some other part of the body, and the joints would loosen, and my hands would return to a semblance of hands, though not normal, as the joints would be enlarged and knots formed. I do not claim to be healed from the effects of rheumatism, though I am relieved from the awful suffering. I do thank the Lord for it. It was His love and His power that relieved me. I cannot describe what a sufferer I was for forty years. One doctor refused to do anything for me as he said it was an incurable case. He said I was past help, and never would use either of my hands again.
About twenty-three years since, I suffered all winter with rheumatism in my head, and many other times also. About seven years since, one doctor said, “I will send you another kind of medicine; if it does not help you, there is not anything that will.” I took that medicine exactly as directed, regarding diet and everything, but grew worse every day. Over a year ago rheumatism settled in my head again, and especially in the brain. I cannot explain the suffering. My neighbors offered to come and pray for me, though I said, “I have no faith for my healing; I have suffered so long and so severely. This is a hopeless case.”
This spring, Dr. Shoemaker, a sanctified physician, our only doctor here, advised me to ask
Brother Bevington to pray for my healing. At first I was not much interested, as there had been so many attempts, and none effectual, that I had given up all hopes. But after some time of continual suffering, the Lord began to talk to me about asking Brother Bevington. So I began to take heed, and hearing of others who were being healed through his prayers, I began to get interested. The third week in April I decided I would ask Brother Bevington to pray for my healing, though I had not decided just when and how I would put this decision into action. The Lord knew that it was time then for action; so it was settled on Sunday, April 24. When I attempted to get up, I fell back on the bed, I did not give up and lie down, I fell. When I decided to wake Mr. Medler and tell him that he would have to get up and get his own breakfast, the Lord said, “You get up.” I said, “I did not suppose I could get up.” The Lord never te lls anyone to do anything impossible, so I saw that I could in His name. When it was time to get ready for Sunday school, the Lord said, “You get ready and go.” I was more surprised at that command than the other, though again I believed that the Lord knew, and I obeyed. When about two-thirds of the way there, I felt that I could go no farther, though I kept saying, “Well, the Lord told me to go, so He will help me the rest of the way.” When I
arrived, I was very, very sick. Then the Lord said, “Get Brother Bevington to pray for you.” I was so blinded that I could not see to write a note to him, so Mr. Medler wrote and told Mr. Bevington that I was at the college, and very sick, and asked him to pray for my relief. That was all I would have asked, as it was as far as I could see — just relief, as I had no faith in healing.
After I went in and took my seat, there seemed to be a black, weighty something about ten
feet square with the center of it pressing on the top of my head. Our pastor told me that was the devil trying to keep Brother Bevington from getting a prayer through for me. After a while, that was removed; and the blind, dizzy, deathly sick feeling left me, though the severe pain did not cease until the next afternoon. When we got home, he told how Brother Bevington got down and talked to the Lord about my case, and how he felt the mighty presence of God. He said that Brother Bevington prayed: “Now, Lord, I believe she is your child; and if she is, we have a right to claim healing for her; yes, complete healing.” Then my faith, for the first time, took hold, and I said, “Yes, Lord, I am Thy child.” And I said, “I shall be healed on the ground that I am Thy child.” That noon I went to bed, as I thought, for the rest of the day, but after I took a nap, the Lord said, “Get up and go to class meeting.” I did so, and in my testimony I said, “I have suffered very much the last few days, and especially today, though the Lord is going to heal me, Brother Bevington is praying for me; and he said that if I am the Lord’s, I can be healed. I know that I am God’s child, and I am going to be healed. Praise His name!”
It was nearly five weeks before I reported to Brother Bevington complete relief from
rheumatism, and I suffered during that time. I had tonsillitis; and our pastor, Sister Brown, came and prayed with me, and I was instantly healed of that and the severe cold I had also. The devil tried hard to keep me from getting the victory. The Lord did not remove the rheumatism suffering all at once, but the Lord’s way is the right way always, and the best for us. Praise His holy name forever and forever! I praise His for victory for the soul and body. Through the precious blood I am saved, sanctified and completely healed. Hallelujah.
Mrs. G. L. Medler, Kingswood, Ky.
While I was at my home at Ashland Heights, Brother White came over for water and had
his boy of four summers with him. His head was covered with eczema. I enquired the cause, and being informed, said, “Well, I guess our Doctor can cure that. Brother White, don’t you know that Jesus can heal that head?” “Well, I reckon He can, as He can do all things.” I said, “Come in, lets anoint him for healing.” “Well, Brother, I am afraid I haven’t the faith.” “Well, come in.” So in they came, and I anointed him, and prayed the prayer of faith. Next evening, they came back and the little fellow was healed. Oh, how blessed to be yoked up with such a power to relieve suffering, and that, too, without money and without price. Hallelujah.
Now, this reminds me that this well was the only one that was near there, so numbers of
people came to get water. I would give them tracts and talk salvation with them. “Well,” a
neighbor said, “Brother Bevington there is a spring down the hill; and you had better send these people down there, as your well will soon go dry. Too many are drawing from it, and it always goes dry in the summer.” Well, the water soon got roily; but still the people came; and it was suggested that I put a sign out asking them not to get any more water until it rained. Well, I thought that was all right, and went so far as to write up the sign. I got the tacks and the hammer, and started out to put the sign up; but when I got part way out to the gate, a voice said, “Where are you going?” Well, I was startled and looked around, really expecting to see someone behind me; but there was not a person in sight. I just stood there, and again the voice said, “Yes, where are you going?” I tell you that settled it. I tore up the sign, dropped on my knees, asked God to forgive me for venturing that far into the realms of Doubting Castle, and began praising Him for rebuking me. Just as I got off my knees, here came three women with large buckets, so I got a small bucket and gave it to them to draw with, as the large bucket would get but little, and I availed myself of the opportunity of going in to get some more tracts and talking salvation. One of them had never been there, and I felt that God sent the message home to her, as she had four precious children to train. Being let alone they would not need any training for hell as they had the thing in them that would land them there without any human help. Well, they had a time getting their three buckets full, but I just kept sweet. I said, “Lord, send them on. I would rather pack water from the spring ninety rods away than to miss an opportunity of warning those lost mothers.”
The day passed. I went out in the evening with a two-quart bucket, let it down and got it
half full of oily water. I said, “Well, Amen, I can go to the spring,” so I started off with two
buckets. I had two hills to climb, and was impressed to leave one bucket, and did so. I started to the spring, and, lo, the voice said, “Bevington, where are you going?” Well, I knew the voice; hence never looked around, but instantly turned and went back into the house, and had somewhat of a struggle in getting where I could easily praise the Lord for rebuking me, as I had to have water. I was then thirsty. I prayed my way through the darkness, got up, and then the neighbor came in with a quart of nice cool water that she had gotten some distance from home. Well, I began to see that God wanted to send water into the well though there was no rain nor signs of rain, and the well had always gone dry at that season and remained dry for three, four, or often five months, they said. I got down and began praising God for stopping me and for sending in the sister with the water. I had been in the habit of taking a good drink just before retiring; and there was where Satan had confused me, as he had kept saying, “What are you going to do for that cool drink that always helps you so?” I had to tell him it was none of his business what I was going to do about it; so I had a struggle for three hours over it, but got the victory.
I retired, claiming two feet of water in the morning, which had not been since we lived
there, and I told the neighbor that we would have at least two feet of water in the morning. She was a dear woman, a member of a church, but knew nothing about God answering prayer. She looked at me, puzzled, and said, “Brother Bevington, what makes you think that? I have never known of there being two feet of water in that well. When there comes a freshet it leaks out.” The well was seventy-two feet deep. “Well,” I said, “we will have it.” She said, “I see no signs of rain.” I said, “I do.” Well, that puzzled her more than ever as the firmament was decked with brilliant stars. I went to bed, praising God for two feet of water in the morning, so that I could have plenty for the neighbors.
I had a two-quart bucket that I drew out with the windlass and, without thinking, in the
morning I started out with this two-quart bucket. But there it was again. I had to be rebuked again. It seemed that the bucket spoke up as did Baalam’s ass, and I dropped it, as if it were a hot poker, and stopped, and said, “O God, forgive me! Oh, forgive me!” and felt the touch. I went to the well, let down the large bucket, gave it the usual time to sink, started to draw it up, and felt by the pull that it was full. I shouted, “Oh, glory! ” Out came this neighbor. I said, “We have our two feet this morning.” She came over by the time I had the bucket up and out, and there it was full and as clear as a crystal. I just stood there weeping for joy. She ran into the house, got a cup, took a drink, and said, “Well, that is a marvel. Your God surely has answered your prayer.” She broke down, and we both stood there by that well, weeping. She said, “Brother Bevington, that is something new to me; but do you really think there are two feet?” I said, “Yes.” “Well, please measure it.” “No,” I said, “I would not do that, as it would be displeasing to God.” “Well, may I?” “Certainly.” So she measured it, and found there were two feet and nine inches of water, and that amount was kept up all summer and fall.
Now I have left out what, to me, was the cream of it. Satan bothered me, tormented me all
he could all night. He woke me up to notify me that it had not rained during the night. “Well,” I said, “I am not looking for rain; I am after water, rain or no rain.” While I was dressing, he just poured in his logic and came near drowning me; but I rallied. I got dressed, dropped on my knees, as prayer is generally the best weapon I can use; but I seemed to make a slow progress for the heights. I jumped up, and said, “Mr. Devil, I have two feet of water out there!” But that seemed to have no effect on him, whatever. I said, “I will see what our calendar says.” I struck a light, and referred to the daily Scripture on the calendar. Now listen, what was there: Isa. 33:16, “Bread shall be given him; his water shall be sure.” Oh, how I did rejoice. Think of it, that after all that struggling, God had that very passage there on the canvas for me, for my special use. I tell you I have never been without a Scripture calendar since. Oh, God answers!
I see here recorded, in 1920, several cases of the flu. One family had two doctors all night.
As they were sinking fast, they sent for me. I went, and anointed them; soon they showed signs of life, so I held on. The woman opened her eyes, and smiled, and said, “I am healed.” In a few hours she was out of bed, and gaining strength. The next morning she got breakfast for the family, and there was no more flu in that home.
I was called to a sister who was very low. Her husband had just gotten out of bed after a
long siege of it, and she was well worn out from caring for him. He was still very weak. Two
children were in another bed with the same disease. I felt awful darkness — it was, oh, so dark. I sat there wondering what could be done, and was almost persuaded to leave. Oh, such a pressure! There was nothing congenial, no encouragement. The sister was unconscious. She had not lived any too close to the Lord, as she had many hindrances in the home, unsaved girl, and an unsaved husband. Well, as I sat there, I said, “Oh, God, what can be done?” I seemed to get no answer, no light. But there I was; I had been sent for by the daughter. There was a possibility, and should I ignore that? I had not been where there was such a heavy pressure, in a long time; but I was held by the power of God. There she lay, giving no sign of life. The medicine sent out its fumes, and had a stupefying effect on me. But I rallied, and said, “Well , God is able.” At that the man raised his head from an apparent stupor, and nodded assent.
Satan was there surely, and warned me about remaining there in that atmosphere, as there had been severe cases for four weeks, and the rooms had not been fumigated. Well, all this was logic and rather hard to meet, and I was having such a hard time in breathing that I could scarcely get my breath. But could I leave one of my sisters, who was needed in that home, and who was evidently at the point of death? Could I leave her? Would God get any glory out of my leaving? Then came more logic. “But you surely can’t stand it long in here with this flu odor so thick, and you were up all night last night. If you undertake to pray through, you will smother in here, hence fail; it would be better never to have come. Then you must remember that it was the unsaved girl who sent for you, and did it through simply human desires to have mamma get well. God has nothing to do with your coming here.” Well, I tell you all these were staggering, and it was getting very difficult for me to breathe.
But I compared the sister’s usefulness to mine. I said, “Mine is of little importance; but
there are three babies and two in their teens, all needing her.” I stepped out onto the porch, got a whiff of fresh air, and called for a drink. But I had to get it myself, as there was no one to wait on me nor others. I fell on my knees, but never undertook such stifling environments. I could scarcely get a word out, but I pushed through, cried to God mightily from my heart if not with my voice. I said, “O God, Thou wilt hear! O God, Thou wilt hear!” I got that out audibly, and that encouraged me; so I proceeded up the hill, grabbed a root here and there, and saw that I was coming out. That gave me courage, and I tell you I did some earnest scrambling. As the foot holds and hand grabs were more frequent, I could see that I was making better progress, and was actually climbing the steps. I began to breathe freer. Soon I realized that I was nearing the peak. I could see glimmers of light up the hill, and believed I wa s soon going to have an over-the-top experience. This
encouraged me to work the harder. Soon the sister threw the covers, and bounded out of that bed, shouting, “I am healed.” And so she was. So it pays to venture.
One thing that made it harder for me was that I had been informed she had sent for several
saints to meet me there. But they did not come, which gave Satan a good opportunity to throw a wet blanket over the proceedings; as he will plan and execute all sorts of maneuvers. He said, “Now, you see those saints were wiser than you, as they knew the danger and wisely stayed away.” Then another thing, I had asked the daughter if her mother had ever been anointed, and she had said, “Yes.” I was impressed to anoint her, but her having been anointed seemed sufficient, and I must avoid all indication of self. So I had a struggle at that point. I well remember that I did not get light until I laid all reasoning aside, just closed my eyes, got still, and pulled the curtains down. Then I had strength to meet the Goliaths. Hallelujah! I anointed her as I was told to at first, as often we have to do the ridiculous. We must learn to mind God whether conditions are favorable or not. I went from this home into the home of an other woman who was confined to her bed with the flu. I anointed her, and in forty minutes she was sitting up, a healed woman. Next night she walked three-quarters of a mile to our street meeting, and gave a thrilling testimony to God’s healing power. This testimony proved a great blessing in that meeting, as did her life after that.
There was a heavy sleet and ice; and as I was going down a grade to a neighbor’s I slipped
and fell pretty hard and struck my side on a root of a tree, which knocked me senseless for several moments. When I rallied, I saw that my side was hurt, and had some trouble in getting up; but I finally did, and kept going all day. At noon I felt quite a pain; and during the afternoon it kept getting worse, so that every move brought severe pains. At night I mentioned the matter to Jesus, and retired; but every move more emphatically reminded me of the fall, and to turn over in bed became an impossibility. However, after each move I got the victory and dropped off to sleep, only to suffer again at my next move. The pain kept getting worse, thus each time taking much longer to get the victory. At 4:00 a. m., I felt that I must turn over, but found I could not; so I said, “Well, it is about time I was doing something.” Then I started to pray out loud; but that brought a paroxysm of pain, so I pleaded inaudibly for a few moments. Yet I felt no relief. I said, “I will pray by the help of God: I will pray. In the name of Jesus I will pray.” I began to pray out loud, and it did not hurt me. I soon stopped praying and went to praising God, and at five o’clock leaped out of bed entirely healed. Oh, isn’t that better than suffering so long and paying out so much money that might be used for better purposes? Then, it is so much better to honor God than not.
I heard a holiness preacher say that he first tried Jesus, and then when He failed, he went
after the doctor. I said, “I guess you always have the privilege of going after the doctor.” I am so glad I am not occupying that position. I have found no case in which He has failed in these thirty-three years. I am not speculating, I am expecting; hence I get. Glory to Jesus!
The next note of interest is dated April 27, 1920. I took my departure for Kingswood,
Kentucky. I mention this merely to show how God looks after us. It was raining when I woke up at Ashland, and I was to take an early train. I said, “Now Father, I have two grips to carry to the depot, so, please, slack up the rain until I get there anyway.” When I got about ready to go, it was still raining. Satan, as usual, was there to remind me that I had prayed for it not to rain while I was going to the depot. “Well,” I said, “I haven’t started yet.” I got my traps, and went down to say good-bye to the people. “O Brother Bevington, it is raining too hard for you to start out.” I said, “It will stop.” So when I got outdoors, it stopped. Praise God! It rained while I was on the train. I had two transfers, but had prayed to have it dry while I had to be out; and God answered. The weather was quite cool, and in the evening it rained all the way from Louisville to Irvington. I had to transfer there, and get my suit case, but it did not rain there. I got on the car to go to Harned, the end of my railroad journey, from where I had five miles to go in a jolt wagon. As soon as I left Irvington it began raining, and Satan said, “Now you will have a long, cold, wet drive in this rain.” I stuck to it that it would not rain, though up to within twenty minutes of our arrival at Harned it was raining. It was then dark, and this was my first trip to Kingswood; but as I got off the train, I said, “Oh, praise God, no rain!” We had a beautiful ride by moonlight all the way to the home of dear Brother and Sister Shelton, whom I had met at Rockdale, Kentucky.
Now that I have given several instances of healing of human bodies, I feel like inserting
one instance of the healing of stock, as God is interested in our minutest details.
I was back of Chillicothe, Ohio, one spring, holding a meeting; and the brother with whom
I was stopping came in, and said, “Wife, I don’t know just what to do as Bolly (the mare) was too lame to get to the barn, much less to take a load of truck to Chillicothe.” “Well,” she said, “go down to your brother’s and get his.” He went down, but came back without the horse. She said, “Go up to my brother’s.” He went up there, but came back without a horse. As they were talking in regard to what could be done, as the people were depending on his load in town that day, I said, “What is the matter with your horse?” “Come down to the barn.” I laid my Bible down and went out to the barn. The horse’s limb was swollen twice its normal size, and she could not raise it. She had eaten nothing all night and that morning. The brother and I went up to the house, and I said, “Brethren, don’t you believe Jesus heals?” The sister said, “Oh, of course I know that He heals human beings. When you were here last fall, He healed our girl through your prayer. But Brother Bevington, did you ever hear of His healing animals?” I said, “That isn’t answering my question. You will admit that He healed the girl last fall.” “Oh, yes, most assuredly, and we all three have testified to that here in our church; and most everybody believes that Jesus did heal her, but — .” “Now,” I said, “we don’t want any of those ‘buts’ here in this case. Jesus didn’t use them.” “Well, what shall I say?” I said, “If nothing but these ‘buts’ has a voice, you just keep still.” Well she just laughed heartily, and said, “You seem to believe that He will heal Bolly.” “Why shouldn’t He?” “Oh, Brother Bevington, I would be so glad if He would; not simply that Bolly might be healed so we could use her; but it would stir this whole neighborhood, and be a great help in this meeting.” “Well,” I said, “what are we going to do about it?” “What are we going to do?” she said. “It is up to you,” I answered.
The husband had been a silent listener. This was entirely new to him. I s aid, “Can’t Jesus
heal Bolly?” Silence reigned for about twenty minutes. The girl had come in, and also was a listener to what had been said. Finally, she said, “Well Jesus healed me, and Bolly is worth more than I, so why wouldn’t He heal her?” Well, I just let them reason and think for about an hour. Finally I said, “You folks are not getting anywhere. Can Jesus or can He not heal this morning?” Another spell of silence gripped them for about ten minutes, which was broken by the wife’s saying, “Brother Bevington, if you will believe, I will.” I said, “Do you mean that?” “Yes, I do.” I said, “Come on.” Then I said, “Now, brother, if you can’t believe, you stay here at the house.” He began to cry and we all stood there. Soon he said, “I will not stay here. I will believe.” We all went down to the barn, and I said, “Now, lead her out here.” “Oh, Brother Bevington, we can’t. She can’t lift her foot over that sill.” So I went in. I said, “I will lay my hand on her limb. Each of you do the same, putting your hand s below mine.” So they did. “Now as we pray, we will move our hands down as the Lord leads.” I began to get warmed up on the subject, and was impressed that we move our hands down some, perhaps an inch. Well, we kept that up for about forty or fifty minutes; and as our hands went down, the swelling went out, so that by the time our hands reached the hoof, the swelling was all gone. Well, the man just wept like a child. He had never seen anything like that. He took the mare out, hitched her up and took the load to town; and there was not a limp, either on the way there or back. I forgot to say that as soon as we reached the hoof the mare whinnied. Then we opened our eyes, the swelling was gone. The man said, “She is now hungry.” He gave her thirteen ears of corn, which she soon had demolished. He stood speechless and crying, while the wife and I were rejoicing.
So, as the woman had said, that was a great boon to our meeting, as the mare had been
limping all winter, and many knew of her swollen limb. Many came to the meeting who never were there before, and quite a number got salvation. So all we need is faith, and all faith needs is a stimulant. Now that I have touched on the healing of that animal, I feel like telling of an answer to prayer in the grain kingdom.
I went from this meeting, about sixty miles to hold another. We had good crowds and good
order; but that isn’t all that is needed to satisfy God. Well, I just prayed, fasted, wept, and preached my best; but no break came. I had preached six nights before opening the altar, and Sunday night was the seventh night. I went to my room, threw myself across the bed, and cried out mightily. When I looked at my watch, it was 3:30 a. m. I had some encouragement, but could not get permission to close the meeting. I got up and went out, and said, “Tell everybody there will be a meeting tonight.” I went back to my room and to prayer. Soon a man came along, and called, “Hey!” The man of the house went out. The caller was the wife’s brother, and he said, “Jim, if I were you, I would plow up that cornfield and sow it in buckwheat, as the grubs are taking it clean.” “Well, I reckon I had better; I was out Saturday and saw that it was being taken.” The man drove on, and while they were eating breakfast (I was not eating any that morning) his brother came along. “Hey, Jim!” He went out. “Jim, if I were you I would plow that cornfield for buckwheat.” “Well, Will was along just awhile ago and told me the same thing.” The brother said, “You ought to have plowed that up in the winter, and that would have killed all the grubs.” “Yes, I know that; but all winter either one or the other of my horses has been too lame to do it, and I just couldn’t get it done as I had no means to hire a team. I believe I did my best.” Well, the brother went off. I had heard all this conversation.
Both the man and his wife were blessedly saved. I went out, and said, “Well, brethren, I
presume you did your best to get that field plowed this winter, but circumstances prevented.” “Yes,” they both answered. Then I told them about Bolly, and the girl who was healed over at the crossroads. They began to look at each other. They had never heard of any person being healed, much less animals, and grub worms killed. Well, I began to read them Scriptures on healing and the goodness of God, and I said, “I am sure that God’s goodness isn’t confined simply to the human body, but He is interested in everything that pertains to us as His children.” I said, “I believe that Jesus can kill those grubs.” “Why, Brother Bevington, did you ever hear of such a thing?” “No, I don’t know as I ever did; but you are His children and have just started up here, being married less than a year, and have not the means; and I believe you did your best. Now can’t you join me in a faith raid on those grubs?” I forgot to mention that h e plowed about two acres in January, but was taken down sick. I said, “What would you think of turning that field over to God and letting Him kill those worms, and then you replant?” Well, this was entirely out of the ordinary to them; hence was not sanctioned very readily. Well, I waited until the next morning, and then brought up the subject again. I said, “Now it isn’t necessary for you to lose all that seed and work.” The seed of course was gone, but the work was not lost. I took my Bible and read in Amos and in other places where God interposed in regard to crops, so that by 10:00 a. m. there were evidences of faith in their hearts. The next morning I brought up the matter again in prayer, reminding God of some things He had done, putting stress on the fact that He was none the less able today.
After prayer, I came down heavier on them, as I felt that they were worthy, but ignorant of
God’s power to help. The wife said, “Well, I know that God can do these things, but — .” “Whoa, hold on there! No ‘buts’ in this case,” I said. She laughed. In about ninety minutes we three could be seen wending our way out into that grub patch of six acres. We were all very quiet; not a word was said from the time we left the house until we reached the field. When we got there I said, “Now, what are we going to do about this?” The man looked at his wife. She was looking down. The corn was up about two or three inches. The brother said, “Brother Bevington, do you think that God could kill these worms, or that He would?” I said, “Please tell me why He would not.” Well, that staggered him. His wife said, “Brother Bevington, we never heard of God doing these things until you came; but He surely can.” And he said, “What do you say about it, Brother Bevington?” I said, “God can and will do it if we can agree that all things are possible.” He said, “Are you clear on it that He wants to?” I said, “Yes, I am.” “Well,” he said, “what shall we do? We will follow you.” I said, “Come on.” So we went out into the center of the patch, and I said, “Now, are we agreed that He will?” He bowed his head. I pleaded for unity, and soon felt a real oneness. I began to pray; and as I advanced, we were soon in a state of real quietness, no noise. We spoke just above a whisper, but felt the power and presence of Jesus. Soon the sister began saying, “Oh, glory! Oh, glory!” so softly and sweetly; and the brother began saying, “Amen, amen.” They kept it up some time, while I was going right up without a break, and soon reached the peak, claiming every bug killed. I got up, and she stepped aside, scooped up a handful of dirt, and said, “Oh, Brother Bevington, here are ten dead grub worms.” Well, we all stood there and wept; not a word was uttered. Oh, that was a blessed time. He soon began to laugh, saying, “That is surely a wonder.” He stooped down and scooped up a handful and counted seven dead grubs. “Well,” he said, “it is surely done as you said in your prayer.” So we went back to the house praising God. In about twenty minutes her brother came back from the shop, and he said, “Plow that field, as it is ruined. I went over and scooped up a handful of dirt and counted eight worms in it.” I waited for someone to speak; but as all were silent, I said, “Sir, those worms were all dead.” He looked at me as though he pitied me. He was a good meeting house man, and did not believe much in anything that did not come through his meeting house. I said, “Sir, I will give you a penny for every live worm you find out there in the lot of corn.”
He said, “All right. That will be money made easy. Get your wallet out.” He took a peck
measure and went out, and the sister went upstairs where she could see him. He went over the whole field, and went home through the woods, and never came back for the contents of my wallet. Well, the man soaked some corn, replanted the field, and had a fine crop.
Now this was the first and last such venture as that. I have never felt like venturing again on that line; but it simply shows that God is for us, as is recorded in the Word, in the book of Amos. It refers to the same thing; that is, He gave crops to one and destroyed those of another. We saw this couple at the Cincinnati Camp the next year, and the brother testified to all this in a large open air meeting. God got glory out of it, as it stirred many to go down deeper. Let’s praise God for His interest in us as His children.
Well, yesterday as I got quiet before God, I was reminded of many cases of healing and
other answers to prayer that are not recorded in this book. But I feel that I have recorded enough to push most anyone out on the Bible promises on healing but you must not think that Bevington is confined to healing alone in his prayers. I get letters asking me to pray for backsliders, the
unsanctified, the unsaved, and in regard to matters that hinder progress. Some that we pray for get through, but not all. No, not all that I start in to pray for, for healing, get healed. God usually shows me whether He wants to heal them or not, and often it takes days to find out. I have been reminded of several cases of healing where the people failed to testify to their healing, and God allowed the disease to come back. I will record one instance.
In Chillicothe, a great society girl was down with lung trouble. I was requested to call on
her, and did so. She finally said that if God would heal her, she would give Him her heart and serve Him wholly. Well, I went to prayer, and God raised her up. She did not get to the meeting, but wrote to me after I left, that she had prayed through, and was going to serve God. In about nine months I was back there again, holding another meeting. I asked about this girl, and was told that she was back in society, and just mocked at salvation. Well, about nine months after that she wrote to me to pray for her again. I answered and told her that she had lied to God, and that I could do nothing for her until she got right with Him. They said that she died raving and cursing God. Oh, we can’t trifle with God! That girl gave dancing lessons and was the belle of the town. So it is with people that will not keep vows they have made to God. And she never testified to her healing. I put a lot of stress on telling it, repeating it. Keep on telling it, and it will become a blessing to you and others, as the Lord always has someone that He wants to hear just such news. Can you do it? Will you do it? Tell it so loud as to knock out every prop from under you, and thus enable you to swing clear out into the celestial spheres. Amen, Hallelujah! Still saved, still sanctified; yes, and still healed. Glory to God! I am nearly seventy-four and love Jesus this morning more than I ever did, simply because the capacity is enlarged. We ought to be crying out for greater capacity, larger vessels, increased ability.
Well, we now come to some of the cases at Kingswood, Kentucky. I had over eighty cases
of healing there during the two winters spent there. I can’t mention all of them, but one case appeals to me as most suitable for this volume. A young lady had been ailing for weeks. She had fever, and kept getting worse; but did not want to take remedies, though the kind doctor was near and renders good service when called upon. But he prefers having people call for Jesus; he delights in seeing them healed without remedies, as he himself was once healed by Jesus. Well, this girl kept getting worse, so Sister Thomas came over and said that she wanted me to come and anoint her and pray for her healing. I did so, and prayed for some time. I got good encouragement; but Sister Thomas was called out, thus leaving the girl and me alone, so I went to my room. The next morning Sister Thomas came, saying, “She is sinking fast, and something will have to be done at once.” She said, “What do you think about the case, as several are finding fault with us for not having a doctor?” I said, “Well, I believe that if you could arrange to remain here with us, God would heal her.” Well, she went out to get a girl to take her place. Then she and I went to prayer, one of us on each side of the bed. I lay there pleading, but the girl seemed to be sinking. Those waiting on her came in and found fault with our being there without a doctor. Sister Thomas was called out again. I went back to my room, dropped on the bed, and had a good time for four hours praying for her. I saw her sitting up eating. Next morning Sister Thomas came over, and said, “I think I can stay in there now.” “Why, isn’t she better?” “Oh, no, she is worse.” “Why, I saw her sitting up yesterday as I lay on my face.” “Well she did sit up yesterday afternoon, and ate a hearty meal; but she has had a relapse, and there is talk of having us arrested for not having a doctor. I told them if the girl wanted a doctor she would have one; but she still insisted on Jesus healing her.”
Well, I went over again, and found that she was no better. As I entered the room, had I been
influenced by what I saw, I surely would have backed out; but I closed my eyes to her looks, as she lay there apparently lifeless, noticing no one. I took my former position, and held it for twenty-four hours. Then I felt a heavy load, which seemed as if it would crush my life out. I seemed to be smothering. Realizing it was all from Satan, I jumped and went to fighting the powers of darkness; and I tell you I had some to fight, and I could feel that Sister Thomas was doing her best. We fought the powers of hell for about fifty minutes, until the pressure was gone, and the clouds were lifted to some extent. I began praising God for victory, and I actually heard snappings like the breaking of bands or cords. That encouraged me, and I said, “Sister Thomas, she is a healed girl.” At that, the girl raised her hand, and said, “It is done,” and burst out laughing. By that time Sister Thomas was up, laughing and praising God. I slipped out and went to my room to retire; but before doing so, I said, “Now she is healed, Lord, so make her get out and go over to the dining room.” It was then about 3:00 a. m. I wrestled some time that she might go over and give a rousing testimony to her healing. Suggestions came in fast as to the unlikelihood of such a venture as that, as she hadn’t strength to walk over to the dining room. But I fought them all, and held on until I went to sleep. Having been up so much, I slept well and was awakened by several boys rushing up the stairs, yelling, “Brother Bevington, get up quick! That girl is over in the dining room, running and shouting.” Well, that ended the fevers and lung trouble with her. Praise God!
There are perhaps thirty or forty in Kingswood who would stand as monuments of God’s
power to heal. The healing of even a headache or a toothache ought to be heralded from pole to pole.
Sister Yarborough told me that God healed her three times in answer to my prayers, and
Sister Stikeleather will testify to being healed, also her children. Sister Brown was healed of nervousness, and many others that we will not take the time to record here. God doesn’t have advertisements in the papers as to His healings, but He has His sign hung out in the corridors of everyone that will give room for it. We must go after Him as He isn’t running around hunting up jobs. On Sunday, April 24, 1921, Brother Medler came and told me that his wife was at the chapel, suffering terribly, and wanted prayer for relief. He said that she had been sick for years. So I went to prayer, and claimed the victory for her; but heard no more from her until Wednesday night, when she handed me two dollars, saying that she was wonderfully delivered. Brother Medler is our sanctified grocery-man. He and his wife are very precious people, and it does me good to take these precious saints to Jesus to be delivered of their ailments.
On May 27, Brother Shelton was taken down with nervous prostration. He seemed worse
on Saturday, and I was notified of his condition. I prayed for him, but, as usual, the doctor was somewhat in my way. It is quite hard for us to get around these doctors. Some are so large we just can’t get around them. On Sunday, as usual here of late, I remained in prayer; and about six o’clock Brother Bond called, and said, “He is worse.” He had sat up with the brother that night, and said that he had suffered terribly with his back and head, was very nervous and out of his mind most of the time. About eight Brother Smith called, and said, “He is sinking fast, out of his mind all the time, and exercising his body far beyond his strength.” I lay on my face, pleading as best I could, and I saw a vision of him laid out on a board, and his wife and children bereft of their main stay. Well, I could hardly accept that, but it was so hard for me to get around the doctor. So while I was pleading and weeping, about 9:00 a. m., I seemed to be stricken with a sense of my own unworthiness; and from that I was much occupied in viewing my mistakes, blunders, ignorance, and the many times that I had ignored God through a lack of faith, and how little I had accomplished for Him. Then over against that came the ever-merciful God. His love and patience; the forbearance of God in that He just overlooked my blunders, lack of faith and so on. While all of these must have grieved the great heart of God, yet He just loved me and blessed me, looked after me, put up with me. As I took this retrospect, it seemed that about all I could see was the greatness of God and the nothingness of Bevington. Then I found that I was losing sight of the doctor and getting a new vision of Jesus; and my faith was mounting up, so that by 10:30 a. m. I had struck rock bottom. I was claiming the victory for Brother Shelton. As I had not heard anything from him, Satan was right there to notify me of his terrible condition; but I held on until about 3:00 p. m. When I was at the children’s meeting, someone said, “Brother Bevington, have you heard of the remarkable change for the better in Brother Shelton? I said, “Yes, I was there when it took place.” I found out that it was at the same time that I prayed through for him. He was up Monday, and went a-hunting. Oh, let’s go in for greater things, as faith sees the invisible, believes the incredible, and claims the impossible.
Sister Thomas’ mother, living some distance away, was going blind, or was blind, and
asked Sister Thomas to see me. I went to prayer; and after waiting on the Lord some eleven hours, I saw a woman reading a paper. I got up and told Sister Thomas just what time her mother
received her sight, and so on. In a few days the mother wrote that at a certain time she received her sight, saw a paper near her, and went to reading it, just as I saw her. Oh, praise God!
In December, I was getting up wood for the winter, and no doubt I overtaxed my body, so
that the second morning I woke up about two o’clock with a severe pain in my side. The pain kept growing in intensity; and was approaching my heart. I could scarcely breathe. I tried to get out of bed to get my hands on the Bible, but could not do so. I fell back nearly whipped, but after lying there a few moments, I said, “This will never do, as Thou art the God that heals, and I am not going down to Egypt for help.” I began to plead the promises, right in the face of apparent defeat. I dared not look at conditions, but fought the powers of hell for one hour, though in great misery. I raised my head in the name of Jesus, and this did not hurt me. At that I jumped out of bed and grabbed my Bible. I came near falling, as a severe dart struck my heart; but I grabbed a chair, and soon rallied. With closed eyes, and my hands on the Bible, I said, “Lord, Thou didst say it.” I repeated this seven times; and at the last word o f the seventh time, the pain all left me, and I went back to bed entirely healed. Hallelujah! Oh, isn’t that better than suffering and going down to Egypt?
Yes, these are days demanding a stiff backbone, one that will stand a tussle with the enemy of our souls and bodies. The best stiffener that I know of is just to do as I did, make a charge on the enemy and stand your ground until you win.
I well remember that while at the Cincinnati Camp, as I was waiting to get into the dining
room, a large crowd gathered at the door. Brother Williams, an M. E. holiness preacher, came up, and said, “Brother Bevington, I am suffering with a severe headache, and have been all day. Please pray for me.” Well, I hesitated, as there were so many around, but I was impressed to lay my hands on his head. To do that there seemed somewhat assuming; but he pleaded for me to pray for him, so I felt that I must. I laid my hands on him, and stood there pleading the promises and looking for relief. In twelve minutes the headache was all gone. The promise is, just according to your faith, not according to the condition or surroundings, just your faith.
I feel a tinge of sadness as I am nearing the end of these blessed hours in rewriting this
volume. It reminds me of the many dear friends here at Kingswood who have stood by me so nobly while I have been writing this.
They all have a big interest in this volume. Writing this is much like spending several
weeks in a precious home and then taking the departure. I see here that Brother Ira Shelton asks if I mentioned his being healed of appendicitis. I said, “I guess not. I guess I have forgotten it.” So he sat down and told me of it in detail.
“In November, 1919, I had an attack of appendicitis. I was so sick that our family physician
said that if I were no better by morning, I would have to have an operation. But I got better, and was not bothered with it until the spring of 1920. I was then working in the clearing, when I began to have severe pains. As I was very busy, I kept working, thinking I would get better. In the evening, Rev. H. P. Thomas sent Brother Bevington, who was then staying in our home, and wife and me to come up to pray over some matters pertaining to the school. While we were at prayer, the suffering became intense; and I was wondering what an operation would cost and how long it would disqualify me for work. I was in such misery that I could not remain on my knees. I made my condition known, and Brother Bevington said, ‘Well, can’t Jesus heal you?’ Brother Thomas said, ‘Yes.’ They anointed me, and while Brother Bevington and Brother Thomas laid their hands on me, the pain all left and has never come back. As Brother Bevington has told of cases of healing, I will say that it pays to take Jesus as our Healer.”
I want to add, for the glory of God, the account of the healing of Sister Yarborough’s baby.
She sent me word to pray for her baby. Well, I went to prayer, but next day, June 5, 1921, word came back that the baby was worse. She said, “If God don’t heal the baby at once, it will leave us.” I said, “Sister, it may be that God is wanting a baby up there. Will you loan Him yours? ” The true-hearted mother gave vent to tears but she said, “I will if He wants it.” Well, after the children’s meeting I went to my room, and after about eighty minutes I was convinced that He was not necessarily needing the baby just then and was willing to let it remain on this planet awhile longer, to beautify it. Then the next thing to do was to make application for the removal of this troublesome sickness, so I laid the axe at the root of the tree by making a bee line for my family Physician. He soon responded to the call, and in another fifty minutes I had the evidence that the baby was healed. Last night Sister Yarborough sent one of the boys over to tell me that it was entirely healed. Oh, praise the Lord!
Well, I suppose you are wondering if I will ever quit. You know that often it is hard for a
holiness preacher to find the stopping place, and so it seems with this. I feel that I would be leaving out an interesting event should I fail to record the home-going of dear Sister Goddard, Sister Shelton’s mother, who took her departure from this troublesome world to be in a better one on Wednesday, January 19, 1921, at 11:50 a. m. She had been sick but a short time. On January 15, Saturday, I went down; and after others had prayed for her, I prayed and got blessed and, without much consideration, I claimed her healing. But on Sunday, as I spent all forenoon in prayer relative to her case, I did not make any headway, though I did my best. She seemed to be getting worse. As Monday was my wash day, I did not get down until evening. I prayed silently, but could not makethe headway I wanted. I began searching myself to see what was lacking. I went home, did my ironing, and went back in the evening again, only to be held in the dark as to her healing. On my way home I told Brother Thomas that I feared she was going Home, and that we would not have her long with us. I retired, but did not sleep till towards morning. I dreaded the thought of her leaving us, as we all needed her, we all thought, oh, so much.
Wednesday morning, I returned, and slipped into a corner. She lay silently on the bed,
noticing no one; and several were in the room, ministering to her needs. A holy hush pervaded the room, oh, such a sweet and holy quietness! I made no headway in praying for her healing, and was soon hurried off on another line. All I could do was to petition for her an abundance entrance. I remained in that corner ninety minutes. As I lay on my face, pleading for an abundant entrance, I saw a large, beautiful mansion which looked as if it were glass — so transparent, so lovely to behold. I had never seen such a radiant building — such glittering walls, such dazzling floors, such brilliant rooms; and it was so beautiful outside, too. I saw beings dressed in spotless white garments extending to the floor, and, oh, such faces, such hands, such crowns, and everyone was busy, not one standing still or sitting. They were carrying wreaths of lily-white flowers of such brilliance as I had never seen. They were hurrying in and out as though putting on the last touches. Each one had wings and, oh, so beautiful, but all their wings were folded. All were, oh, so busy getting ready for the soon home-coming of someone. So I just concluded that they were Sister Goddard’s ushers. I suppose that orders had been given, and mention of her soon coming had been made. I got up, and said to myself, “She will not be here long.” Sister Shelton said to me, “What did you get?” I said, “Mother will soon be leaving you.” I went home and told some of the students that sister Goddard would soon leave us. It was 11:00 a. m., when I got to my room, so at 11:40 the last touch had been put on. All was ready for her home-coming, and the summons was sent for her to vacate the old rickety tenement that she had occupied for many years, and come up and occupy the brilliant, massive mansion for which she had been sending up material for a number of years.
Sister Shelton was taken sick, and was getting worse. They sent me word of her condition,
so I rallied my forces, and bombarded hell for her healing. After four hours of heavy firing I routed the enemy, and took possession. Word came that at a certain time she jumped out of bed, perfectly healed. Yes, I had a stiff fight right there, but I held on until victory came. I soon had the pleasure of seeing Sister Shelton safe at home, and a well woman. Hallelujah to Jesus!
I have had a most blessed time while writing this. It has boosted me up the heavenly
highway several miles. I am more than ever determined to press salvation and healing. Look up, weary one; Jesus is the same today as when He walked the Judean hills and healed the many there. He wants to heal you, to get a chance to heal you; but you will see that it takes a bold, determined fight to get our rights.
May the dear Lord make this volume a blessing to many. I would be delighted to hear from
anyone who reads this book. My address while down here will be Ashland, Ky., or Kingswood, Ky. Wherever I am, mail will be forwarded to me.
Send this volume out; pray for the widening influence of the contents, and meet me in
Heaven, as I am going there. I am ticketed through for there now! Hallelujah! Amen and amen!