Chapters:

        
             When I was twenty-one, my wife and I went with our pastor to 
        speak  with  the District Elder about taking  a  pastorate  while 
        attending  Taylor University.  He had informed me prior  to  this 
        time  that there were three pastorates available.  I was to  make 
        my choice at this time.
        
             As I listened to my Elder describe the opportunities, I  was 
        trusting  Jesus  to help me know which one to choose.   "You  may 
        have  this  one particular pastorate," he  explained,  "which  is 
        close to Taylor University and pays eight hundred dollars a year.  
        This  other one is farther away and has two parsonages.  You  may 
        rent  one  and  have a little more income.  It  also  pays  eight 
        hundred dollars."
        
             He  paused, as if waiting for my answer, and I  said,  "Sir, 
        you told me that there would be a choice of three pastorates."
        
             A  bit  reluctantly  he replied, "The third  one  is  Redkey 
        Circuit.  It pays only seven hundred dollars a year."
        
             The  moment he said "Redkey Circuit," I knew that was  where 
        God  wanted  us.  I could tell in my heart.  "Redkey  Circuit  is 
        where we are to be," I informed him.
        
             This  man  was many years my senior and had preached  for  a 
        long  while;  but  when I told him my decision,  he  asked,  "Why 
        didn't  you choose this pastorate near Taylor University?  It  is 
        much  more  convenient and pays a hundred dollars more  a  year?"  
        (Of course, one hundred dollars was a sizable sum at that  time.)  
        "You  have  answered too quickly," he suggested.  "Give  it  some 
        thought for twenty-four hours."
        
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             "It  will never change," I assured him.  "What God tells  me 
        never changes."
        
             He  replied, "You call back in twenty-four hours to give  me 
        your final decision."
        
             The  following day I phoned the District Elder to tell  him, 
        "We  will  go to Redkey Circuit."  This charge consisted  of  two 
        congregations,  and  the parsonage had neither a bathroom  nor  a 
        furnace.   In terms of human comfort and strength of  membership, 
        it  could  have  been  considered  one  of  the  least  desirable 
        pastorates of the district, if not the least.  But this is  where 
        God  witnessed  that we were to be.  We began our work  there  in 
        April of 1937.
        
             After  we had been there six weeks, one of the dear  praying 
        women told my wife, "I have prayed for your husband's ministry in 
        this church for thirty years."  That meant that  eight-and-a-half 
        years before I was born, she had been praying for the work  which 
        God  was  doing through me.  What if I had failed to  seek  God's 
        will,  had  not gone where He had directed, and had  missed  this 
        sacred appointment for which this dear one had prayed these  many 
        years?
        
             When  Florence  and I started, we had little with  which  to 
        furnish a parsonage.  My father had bought us a small green couch 
        which pulled out at the bottom and made into twin beds.  Florence 
        slept  on the soft side and I slept on the hard side.   That  was 
        our  bed  from  1934 to 1936.  In 1937  we  purchased  our  first 
        regular  bed  with  the  $17.50  I  had  saved  since  childhood.  
        Unfortunately,  it was not a very good one, and before  too  long 
        neither of us was sleeping well:  the mattress gave way and  both 
        of us ended up in the middle.  But we were thankful for it.
        
             While  praying  beside this old couch in  December  of  that 
        year, God revealed to me: "I want you to have a meeting with your 
        Board  of  Evangelism.  Tell them that you are going  to  have  a 
        revival."   When I spoke to the board, however, the  two  leading 
        men told me, "We can't have revival.  We don't have
        
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        the  money.   We  couldn't  raise ten  dollars  from  the  entire 
        congregation."
        
             I  hadn't  thought of that.  "Well," I informed  them,  "God 
        tells me to have revival."
        
             The precious mother who had prayed for my ministry, the only 
        woman  on  the board, spoke up: "Rev. Helm is right.   God  wants 
        revival."  The other two men expressed themselves by saying,  "We 
        are on the fence," meaning--I could have revival if I wanted, and 
        if I didn't, that was alright, too.
        
             Returning home, I went to prayer.  I was only twenty-one  in 
        my first assignment as pastor.  I didn't want to do anything that 
        I  shouldn't.  My Board of Evangelism was not in  agreement:  one 
        thought we should have revival, two were definitely opposed,  and 
        two were undecided.  "Jesus," I prayed, "what will I do?"
        
             As  I sought the Lord's guidance, He clearly directed me  to 
        call  an  evangelist in Richmond, Indiana.  I was to ask  him  to 
        arrive  early  Sunday morning for prayer, after  which  he  could 
        preach for me as guest speaker.  Jesus said, "You leave it all to 
        Me,"--which I did.
        
             Early  Sunday  morning  the evangelist and I  had  a  little 
        prayer  meeting  before  he preached.  When the  altar  call  was 
        given,  down the aisle came Arthur and Mrs. Brown.   They  prayed 
        through,  were  converted, and the  entire  congregation  agreed, 
        "This is revival!"  (Less than one year later, Mrs. Brown lay  in 
        her casket.  How important God's guidance for revival was to this 
        precious soul!)
        
             Those  special services lasted three weeks, the Lord guiding 
        and  helping.   Forty-five were saved or sanctified,  and  bodies 
        were  healed.  God did miracles among us.  My wife still  recalls 
        that as one of the most wonderful revivals she has ever been  in.  
        We had twenty-five to twenty-eight in Sunday School at that time.  
        When  the power fell on that small congregation,  the  attendance 
        soon  doubled  and  continued to increase.  Jesus  had  told  me, 
        "You leave it all to me."  He was the One who performed it.
        
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             At  this  young  beginning,  I did  not  believe  in  divine 
        healing.  The evangelist, on the other hand, declared, "God heals 
        today just like He always did."
        
             "Is  that right?"  I remarked.  I had heard about my  father 
        being  healed when he was a boy, but I was still a young man  and 
        had no experience with healing.
        
             "God is still the same!" the evangelist assured me.
        
             "That's  wonderful,"  I told him.  When he shared  that  God 
        still healed as He did in Bible times, I began to believe him.
        
             As  it happened, one of the women in our congregation,  Edna 
        C., had been in a very serious accident and suffered severe  pain 
        almost  constantly.   Because  of a  fractured  pelvis  and  some 
        fractured  vertebrae, she had to be turned in a sheet  for  three 
        weeks.   The  evangelist learned of it and said to  me  one  day, 
        "Let's  go  out  to the home of these folks  and  have  a  little 
        meeting.   We'll anoint this woman with oil and ask God  to  heal 
        her.  It will stir the countryside for Jesus."  When I asked Edna 
        for her permission to come, she gladly consented.
        
             About  a dozen of my laymen accompanied us there  that  day.  
        After  singing    "Amazing Grace"  and  a  few  other 
        hymns,  the  evangelist  and  I moved to the  side  of  the  bed, 
        anointed  the suffering woman with oil, and began to call to  our 
        Heavenly Father to come down and heal her.
        
             In  the midst of prayer, I saw a ray of light  descend  from 
        Heaven  and  the  glory of God fell all over the  room  in  great 
        sweetness.   I looked over at Edna's husband, a man weighing  two 
        hundred  pounds or more, and God was moving so upon him  that  he 
        was  literally  shaking.  The power of God hit my wife,  and  she 
        shouted.  I never saw her rejoice like that before or since.  She 
        had  no  idea she was going to do it, but when the power  of  God 
        came, it simply brought the shout right out of her.
        
             (We  are so unaccustomed to God's Spirit in  evidence  today 
        that  few  of us know how great His power actually is.   When  He 
        comes in a mighty Awakening one of these days,
        
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        everyone will know it.  He will move everybody, whether they want 
        to be moved or not.)
        
             Oh, the glory of God that filled that room!  Jesus went into 
        Edna's  body,  immediately healing the fractured pelvis  and  the 
        injured vertebrae.  In an instant, God performed a miracle!
        
             When  we  all  left, her elderly aunt came  into  the  room.  
        "Will you please get my clothes?"  Edna asked her.
        
             "Oh  Edna,"  she  cautioned, "you are  a  sick  woman.   You 
        wouldn't want to try getting up."
        
             "You  mean  I was sick," Edna told her.  "Please go  get  my 
        clothes,  because  I am going to get dressed and  come  help  you 
        prepare the evening meal."
        
             "Oh, child!  You aren't well!  You are sick!"
        
             "You mean I was.  I want to get up out of this bed.  I  want 
        to go to church tomorrow night."
        
             "But Edna," the aunt insisted, "you are in bad shape!"
        
             "I  WAS in bad shape, Auntie,"  she  explained 
        again.   "I am not now.  I am well." and she got up out  of  bed!  
        The  dear  relative  was so startled.  After  Edna  dressed,  she 
        helped her aunt prepare the evening meal, and the next night came 
        to church.  When this woman, who had been painfully confined to a 
        turning  sheet  for three weeks, stood up and  witnessed  to  the 
        miracle  of Jesus healing her--people were moved for God in  that 
        community. 

             This was my first experience in divine healing, and God made 
        it unmistakably clear to me that He is just the same today as  He 
        was  when Jesus walked this earth.  By God's grace I shall  never 
        forget it.
        
             God  also  performed a miracle for Mabel P.,  who  had  been 
        unable  to  lie  down  because of  a  certain  infection  in  her 
        respiratory system.  Upon occasions, a bloody mucous would  start 
        up  out of her lungs and choke her; so she was forced to  try  to 
        rest sitting up.  We took a few of our laymen to pray for her.
        
             As we started to pray, somehow God helped me to know
        
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        that  everything  was not quite right.  "Something  is  hindering 
        prayer," I said.  "There is something in the way.  People are not 
        right with God."  I then asked the people to pray for themselves.  
        "Get right with God!" I would plead.  Still, I could not pray for 
        Sister P.'s healing.  I cried out some more.  "There is something 
        in somebody's heart that is holding back the power."
        
             Isn't   it  amazing  that  God  could  show  a   young   and 
        inexperienced  pastor  the need of the moment?   I  continued  to 
        plead  with the people to get right in their hearts.  It was  not 
        an easy place.  Finally, after about three or four  exhortations, 
        two  women came across that living room and asked  one  another's 
        forgiveness.   The channels of love were unblocked and the  glory 
        fell.   We  began  to pray, and Mabel said  that  she  saw  Jesus 
        standing in the gate of Heaven.  As we were interceding for  her, 
        she  saw  Jesus reach His hand down from Heaven, put  it  on  her 
        head, and heal her.
        
             But  as  soon as she was healed, this thick,  bloody  mucous 
        began  to  flow  out  of her mouth.  Quickly  we  had  to  get  a 
        container.   All  my people were alarmed.  I could see  by  their 
        faces that they doubted.
        
             "Have faith!"  I encouraged them.  "This is  the  unclean 
        coming out!"  It was a terrible sight.  I have never seen such  a 
        substance  pouring  out of a person's mouth and  throat.   "Don't 
        disbelieve,"  I  kept telling them.  "Just have  faith  and  say, 
        `Thank  you  Jesus!'"  (Why, who told me that?  What made  me  so 
        certain  that this was of God when the older people were  fearful 
        that she wasn't healed?  It had to be Jesus helping me, I know.)
        
             When  she visited the doctor for x-rays, he said,  "This  is 
        wonderful.   All that infection is gone from your lungs."   Jesus 
        had healed her for His glory.
        
             These  are but a few of the marvelous things we  would  have 
        missed  in  our  first pastorate if we had made  our  own  choice 
        rather than God's choice.  My District Elder had been thinking of 
        my finances when he recommended the better-paying
        
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        positions.   But  look  at the power of God  which  was  able  to 
        operate once we arrived where God ordained us to be (and the Holy 
        Ghost  is moving through my body now as I share this  with  you!)  

        
        This  was only the beginning of what God was going to  accomplish 
        for His glory, because it was His beginning, not mine.
        
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