Chapters:
1. Why Don't Men Obey God?2. My Father
3. Narrow Escapes From Death
4. My Mother
5. My Father's Conversion
6. God First Speaks
7. Tithing Opens The Way
8. Childlike Faith
9. A Child's Prayer
10. Parental Discipline
11. Conversion
12. First Obedience
13. Jesus Reveals My Companion
14. Sanctification
15. Our First Pastorate
16. "Come With Me, Son..."
17. "...And Perfect Will Of God"
18. Ordination
19. Baptized With The Holy Spirit
20. The Calling
21. Spiritual Burdens
22. Leaving All
23. Waiting On God
24. Home Built By Faith
25. Warning From A Watchman
26. The Beginning
16 "COME WITH ME, SON ..."Loran and Florence, 1973. 150
In April, 1938, we were transferred from Redkey to
Whitewater. After one year had elapsed, out of Asbury College
came Rev. Homer Pumphrey, who had been in school with the son of
my District Elder, Phillip Brooks Smith. Rev. Smith was one of
the great preachers in the state of Indiana, and gifted of God.
He preached Jesus and Him crucified. Rev. Pumphrey requested a
pastorate; so Rev. Smith sent him to Redkey Circuit.
When Rev. Pumphrey arrived, he heard of our walk with God
and remarked, "I want to know that pilgrim of Jesus." In 1939,
at New Castle, Indiana, I was privileged to meet Homer for the
first time. He said, "I want you to pray that I will be a
sanctified man and everything that God wants me to be."
When I returned to Whitewater parsonage I told my wife,
"Never in my life has a preacher told me this!" How delighted
and surprised I was to hear of someone who desired to be all that
God wanted him to be. I have met few who really wanted to go all
out for Jesus.
At that time I had begun the completion of my undergraduate
studies in Earlham College, and God was continuing to work with
me. I was trusting Him the best I knew how and was trying to do
all that He wanted me to do. In the little churches we were
serving, people were being saved, bodies were being healed, and
faithful hearts were coming forward to be inwardly cleansed; but
within me I knew that God was not calling me to the pastorate.
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After a day of classroom study, I would say to my wife,
"Honey, I am not in the right stall. When I was a boy on the
farm, all of my cows had their own stalls. God is calling me to
something. I am not in the right place yet." I was very
thankful for what Jesus was accomplishing, but this strong
impression never left me: "God is calling me to something--it is
out there ahead of me somewhere."
By this time we had three little girls. Joyce Lee was born
in January of 1936, our second year at Taylor University. The
twin girls arrived May 24, 1939. Eight-and-a-half months before
they were born, Jesus revealed to me that He was giving us twins.
Coming home I told Florence, "Oh, Honey, Jesus just revealed to
me that He is giving us twins!"
I shall never forget my wife's reaction when I informed her.
Both of her hands came up to her bosom in a way she had never
done before, nor has she done since, and she said, "Oh, no!
Surely not me!"
When I told people what Jesus had revealed, I can't recall
that even one person believed me. However, they believed when
Florence gave birth to identical twins eight-and-a-half months
after the revelation. Nancy weighed five-and-half pounds at
birth and Martha weighed five pounds. Each had lost a pound when
we brought them home from the hospital. They were so very tiny
and most precious.
At the annual conference meeting in 1941, my District Elder
told me where he thought I was to be assigned. This charge
included two churches, with a parsonage which had a new furnace
and new floors. He also asked me to be praying about Shideler
Circuit, a charge with three congregations. The parsonage there
had neither a furnace nor a bathroom, and one had to go outside
to pump the water.
I said nothing; but while he was discussing with others at
the conference where I should be sent, I returned to the home of
the Swansons where my wife and I were being entertained during
our stay. Florence was not well in those days. If you knew all
she had passed through in these thirty-
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some years, you would agree that it has been only by God's grace
that we have made it this far. It will be only by His mercy that
we can make it tomorrow.
Coming into our room I said, "Honey, I am going to pray
about these pastorates." On my knees I asked, "Jesus, do you
want us to go to the pastorate where there is this wonderful
opportunity?" --And it was as black as midnight. I then asked,
"Lord Jesus, do you want us to go to Shideler Circuit?" When I
prayed about this pastorate, I saw a ball of fire a few hundred
feet above me to the right. With a great delight I announced,
"Oh, Honey! God is sending us to Shideler!"
Three days later the District Elder sent us to Shideler
Circuit, the place God had already shown me. In earthly
estimation it was the least desirable pastorate among many scores
of churches, but when we arrived there in May of 1941, I was so
happy. Unless God would reveal it, no one could ever know how
thrilled I was to be there, because this was the place Jesus had
chosen for us.
Though the parsonage had no indoor bathroom facilities and
we had to pump our own water, at times I would stand on the
parsonage lawn with such happiness in my soul that I could never
express it adequately to anyone. I would tell people, "I am as
happy here as if I were in the White House in Washington." I was
thrilled because God had brought us here! We were at the bottom
but I felt like we were at the top. We scarcely had anything,
yet I felt as if we had much. Now that requires Jesus, doesn't
it? If He can trust us to be delighted with nothing, then
perhaps He can trust us someday with something.
God told me how to make the three churches like one
congregation. During our period of service, there were some
ninety victories, and the three churches began to be joined
together in an unusual love. God worked through them to put
storm windows on the parsonage, drill a new well, install a pump,
and provide running water. He gave me a group of men who could
sing for the glory of God. When we first
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began they said, "Why, we are just farmers, meat cutters, factory
workers. We can't sing." But when we would get together, with
my wife at the piano, the Lord would help us.
Having completed my undergraduate degree, my District Elder
thought that I should pursue advanced training in theological
studies. I was sent to a school near Chicago. On Monday I would
leave my wife and family, journey to the seminary for four days
of classes, then return home to conduct Sunday services.
As I walked among these beautiful academic buildings, often
God would deal with me, and I would ask, "God of Abraham--God of
Elijah--did you call me to this place? Is this Thy will for me?"
And I received little consolation. I wasn't at home there. I
had been going along with man a long while, doing what my dear
ones wanted me to do: my father, mother, District Elder, pastor,
ministerial brothers, Christian friends. I had been trying to
serve God the best I knew and still please the ones I loved.
When I returned the second week to this place of higher
education, God continued to deal with me. I was so moved upon by
the Spirit that all I could do was talk to Jesus about it. I was
uncertain what all God was trying to tell me, but He was working
and moving within my soul.
On arrival the third week, I paid my week's portion of the
board for the little suite of rooms where I lived with two other
young ministers, and sat down to write a theme on "Ten things I
believe about the Bible" for my Bible class. I was in a
quandary, for I knew that my Bible professor and a few others
there did not believe the Bible to be the inspired Word of God.
When someone asked the professor how she could give the Apostle's
Creed believing as she did, she replied, "I give the Apostle's
Creed through respect for our forefathers."
I believe the Bible as it is. If I did not, the Holy Ghost
couldn't work through me. The Bible is an account of God dealing
with men, walking with men, working with men. It
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has been given by the Holy Spirit. Many scholars seek to find
discrepancies in it. I try only to look for God's will in it,
for the Bible is God's Book.
As I was seated there trying to write, I lifted my head and
silently cried out, "Oh, God!" The moment my heart cried out,
God began to show me things I had never seen before.
I saw the earth. It appeared as if an awful storm were
about it, the kind of storm I once viewed as a young boy, when
the clouds would sweep in from the west during March and April.
I saw the earth covered with thick darkness and engrossed in deep
sin. Oh, it was so dark! Sin is far worse than we think. It is
much, much worse than you and I can comprehend. I saw that the
ugliness of sin had covered the earth; it had invaded men and
women, boys and girls. This wicked Sin Principle was terrible.
It was monstrous.
I cried out "Oh, Jesus! Where is the light? Oh, God--
where art thou?"
I looked up, and there was a light. God was in the light
and He said, "COME WITH ME, SON..."
When God called me to go with Him, and with Him alone, I
said good-bye to my father, my mother, my elders, my friends--
everyone! In my heart I said, "Good-bye, things of this world.
I am going with God!"
My friend, the instant I forsook everything of the earth to
walk alone with Jesus, I entered into a land that was darker than
midnight, even the blackest of midnight. It was a spiritual
experience which words could never convey, yet as real as this
book in your hand. God has revealed to me in these intervening
years that seldom have men ever gone this lonely path to walk in
absolute dependence upon Jesus.
Most mortals will never have this experience, because God
called me into this world for a specific purpose. No one needs
to pattern his life after this experience, for I was called by
God and ordained by the Holy Ghost for a specific work in the
Kingdom of God. I do not belong to myself, or to any
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certain group: I belong wholly to God. By His grace and
protection, I must do what He wills, nothing more and nothing
less.
God was calling me to this land seldom trod by men.
Suddenly a demon voice above me clamored, "Your life is ruined!
There is no hope for you! Take one step along this path and you
will fall a thousand feet to the rocks beneath you!"
I said, "I am trusting Jesus."
I heard another evil voice above me, "What are you going to
do? You have blighted the hopes and anticipations of your mother
and father. They have spent thousands of dollars on your
education. They have sacrificed and worked to help you all these
years. Now you have destroyed their hopes. What are you going
to do with them? How will you explain this to them?"
I answered again, "I am trusting Jesus."
A third evil voice demanded, "What will you do with your
lovely wife and three children? How will you support them? You
have no place to go. There is no way to go."
My reply was, "I am trusting Jesus." That is all I said:
"I am trusting Jesus."
To me it is a marvelous thing that a twenty-five-year-old
boy who had walked with God only a little while would reply "I am
trusting Jesus" in the face of such great accusation. It had to
be God helping, I know. Of course, that was His call upon my
life--to trust Him.
I wasn't aware then that very few people in the professed
church knew much about trust. I have since discovered that only
a handful are really trusting God in their everyday lives. Most
people in the church are arranging their own lives to some
extent. I wouldn't be surprised that well over ninety percent of
all professed church people are working out their lives by their
own reasoning and according to that which appears expedient.
But trust begins when we look, not to our own
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understanding, but first to God for His leading through the
witness of the Holy Spirit. It continues as we simply follow His
guidance no matter what obstacles or trials seem to block the
way. Trusting God is so simple a child can do it; but very few
in all the ages have been willing to consistently apply it.
I wasn't aware then that most of us mortals were so far from
God's will. I only knew that my call was to trust God and obey
Him. I was just to walk with Jesus, follow His direction without
question, and let Him work out all the situations.
As the Lord was calling me to trust Him, the powers of earth
and hell were raging against me. It was a ferocious battle of
the soul, though I was still seated at the desk in the little
apartment. My minister friends were unaware of the struggle
taking place within me.
When I entered this land of Absolute Trust, I found it
densely choked and snarled with battles and trials. I saw that I
couldn't take a step without wielding a sharp blade of
determination to mind God and rely on Jesus. I had to hew a path
through huge oaks of difficulty that no one would dream about.
All these obstacles had to be cleared out of the way, and only
God could do it.
There is no way of communicating what this land is like.
Until one has walked in absolute faith--trusting and obeying only
God and letting God have His way entirely--it is impossible to
understand this experience. But those who have been trusting
only Jesus through the years have learned that it is a pressing,
that it is a rejoicing. It is not looking to the church, to
religious leaders, or to anyone else, but it is looking to Jesus.
Through the ages, all men who have obeyed God's call to do
only His will and have not tried to work out ideas and answers
with their own skills, have found themselves in this lonely and
wonderful land. True life is found here, for it is the Kingdom
of God on earth, where God's will alone is not
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only sought, but, by God's grace, fulfilled. Since all of hell
is against anyone reaching God's perfect will, the path to it is
strewn with enormous difficulties and obstacles.
For this reason, whenever God sends a true servant to any
congregation, that people will begin to experience unusual
struggles and upheavals. Whenever God is truly endeavoring to
accomplish His will, Satan will be there trying to stir up
strife, create misunderstandings, and cause jealousies among the
people. Few laymen are prepared for the battles which they will
encounter once God sends a true servant their way. The average
church person believes that the program of the church is to be
handled like any other business, and should proceed along the
path of least conflicts and most beneficial results.
Quite to the contrary, any time a church works out a program
or a religious plan in themselves, it is not pleasing to God.
This is not a popular statement to declare, but I must give the
truth in love or be held responsible at Judgment. I know that we
dare not devise our own church systems and programs because our
ideas, at their very best, can only come from our human minds and
insights. They originate from the wisdom of the earth and cannot
satisfy heavenly requirements, for God's Word plainly states:
"...they that are in the flesh cannot please God."
I am not seeking to find fault with any church, but Jesus
has revealed to me that unless our singing, our preaching, our
Sunday schools, Bible schools, and revivals are led by the Holy
Spirit, the fruit of these activities will not survive. Jesus
tells us that "Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not
planted, shall be rooted up. This strongly indicates to me that
the Holy Spirit must not only lead, but must be the Author of all
that I do. He must be the One to plan my life; He must originate
my programs or I will be living a life which is powerless and
ineffectual. It is as I am submissive, broken, waiting on God, and
loving
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everybody, that Jesus is able to lead me into a life of divine
vigor and eternal glory.
Following this tremendous spiritual struggle, I finally
related back to the physical world around me. My decision was
clear. "I am going home," I told the ministerial student
opposite me.
He looked at me surprised. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"Can't you stick it out for at least one semester?" He thought I
was simply giving up. He had no idea what God had been telling
me for weeks and weeks, or what all I had been through in the
past few minutes.
I answered, "I am going home." My friend didn't know
whether I meant "go home" for a day, two weeks, or to stay. He
continued to persuade me to stick it out, but I had to tell him,
"I must purchase a train ticket and return home tonight." I had
been away from home only since morning. It was then around eight
or nine o'clock in the evening.
After packing my bags I was taken to the train station in
downtown Chicago by two of my roommates. I paid them fifty cents
for gas and had enough money to purchase a one-way ticket to
Hartford City. At eleven-ten I boarded the train.
Satan was fighting furiously. "It is all over now," he
raged. "You have ruined everything."
I replied, "I am trusting Jesus." Satan continued to hurl
accusing thoughts at me to make me feel dishonest, guilty, and in
error. I repeatedly answered, "I am trusting Jesus." Until you
determine with all your heart to leave everything of earth to go
with God, there is no way to describe to you the depth of my
soul's struggle during this time. Yet, I was happy. I had no
idea what the future held, but in my heart I was at peace.
The train moved very slowly, stopping at nearly every little
village. A few seats behind me sat a drunk man. For four hours
that train stopped and started, stopped and started. I simply
looked to Jesus for strength and courage.
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The devil repeatedly brought to mind, "There will be no way
for you to get home from Hartford City. You don't know anyone
there. Your wife and children live ten miles away. They have no
phone. The bus doesn't leave Hartford City for Shideler until
five or five-thirty. It is raining. You will get wet, catch
pneumonia, and die. You almost did," he whispered to me. "Don't
you remember?"
"Yes," I thought to myself, "I almost did." Dr. Kramer
told me that when I was a very little boy I contracted a swift
pneumonia so severe that my parents could hear me gasping for my
breath from the living room all the way to the pump house outside
the kitchen. He informed the men at the store, "The Helm baby
will be gone by morning."
I am told that I had to fight for every breath. It was New
Year's Eve, and Mother and Grandmother sat beside my crib, not
daring to say a word to one another, both fearing the worst.
Mother related much later, "I didn't think you were going to make
it through the night." It was only by the mercies of Jesus that
I was raised up. Satan was attacking my mind severely with the
fear: "You will get wet, catch pneumonia, and die."
The Hartford City depot was dark that October morning when
the train pulled in at three-thirty. My situation did not appear
good, for I was ten miles from home and no one knew that I was
returning. The main highway was closed as well, for they had
been re-working the entire road.
When the train jerked to a stop. I picked up my bags and
walked to the coach steps. It was very dark, but I noticed a
tiny light ninety feet or so to my left. As I looked down, this
light reflected from some object at the bottom of the steps. Out
of the darkness, a man's voice unexpectedly asked, "Did you want
to go some place, Sir?"
"Yes, Sir!" I exclaimed. "I want to go home!"
"My car is at the curb," he said. "Sometimes I meet this
early morning train."
Praise God! As I looked closely, I could see an old gentle-
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man standing at the bottom of the train steps, the light
reflecting from the shiny black bill of his cap. Oh! Was I ever
glad to see him! My heart was filled with such praise to Jesus
that I didn't know how to express it!
What if this elderly gentleman had not been there? Dwell on
that for a moment. He did not always meet this early morning
train. Since no one was there to help me, I would have been
obliged to walk uptown carrying two heavy suitcases. With the
sensitivity in my body to sickness in damp weather, unless God
protected me, I would easily have become seriously ill. But,
praise God, this gentleman was there to meet me!
God has had somebody to meet me every morning since,
spiritually speaking. When I have needed help, He has sent
someone to assist. When I have been in need, without fail He has
always provided. Bless the Lord!
For two dollars this kind gentleman drove me the ten miles
south to the village of Shideler. Thanking him, I lifted my two
suitcases to the porch and gave my special knock on the front
door. My wife and I had arranged this secret code so we wouldn't
frighten or alarm one another.
Never scare anyone. Never try to frighten your wife, your
mother or father, a sister or brother. Never try to play a trick
on people, because this grieves the Holy Spirit. Often our
little pranks backfire, causing hurt and damage.
Many folks, in the carnal, play tricks and pranks, thinking
they are going to have a good time. In contrast, Spirit-filled
men are taught to be very cautious and careful, because the
sweetness of Jesus doesn't work in the mold of cleverness and the
way of the smart-aleck. The sweetness of Jesus works in
gentleness, humbleness, tenderness, and thoughtfulness for
others.
My precious wife was sound asleep. I can still see her
coming through the house. The porch light was always left on
when I was away from home, and I could see her wiping the sleep
from her eyes as she tried to bring her
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thoughts awake. She unlatched the old-fashioned lock, opened the
door and looked up at me, her face all one big question. "What
is the matter?" she asked.
I replied: "Honey--I have come home to go with God!"
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