More Than Enough

By Joel L. Meredith

THE DATE: January 26, 1955.

It was my twentieth birthday.

THE PLACE: A train on its way from Salt Lake City, Utah to Sacramento, California.

I sat looking out a train window at the scenery speeding by.

MY THOUGHTS: A jumble of emotions.

I was on my way overseas to Korea to serve a tour of duty with the United States Air Force. But first I would stop at McClellan Air Force Base (AFB) near Sacramento for overseas processing.

I was bitter about my overseas assignment, but I was glad that the Korean armistice had finally been signed. At least nobody would be shooting at me, and I wouldn't have to kill someone else in the name of war.

Just a couple of weeks earlier, my girl friend had rejected my proposal of marriage.

I had asked and asked God to give that girl to me for my wife. God had said no, and I was mad at Him.

MORE TRAVEL: By train to Travis AFB, California and an overnight stay; by plane to Hickam AFB, Hawaii for a short two hour stopover; and by plane to Tokyo, Japan for three days.

THE STORY BEGINS.

The stopover in Tokyo, Japan for three days was for special orientation (no pun intended). In that short time, I Sampled Tokyo's night life, had sex with a Japanese girl in a back alley, and spent the night in a hotel room with a young Japanese prostitute.

It wasnt my usual style, but then I was mad at God. I decided to hurt Him the only way I knew how: SIN, SIN, SIN.

Soon I was in Korea starting my twelve month tour of duty. Being in Korea was not my idea of fun, but there were certain diversions to take my mind off my misery. I drank a bit, partied a bit, and enjoyed the services of several Korean prostitutes a lot.

Finally, I got tired of partying and settled for shacking up with a Korean girl named Peggy. We rented a room in a village not far from the Air Force compound where I was stationed. This village hideaway gave me some respite from being on call 24 hours a day.

In spite of all this, I continued my lifelong habit of praying every night before going to sleep. Then there came a time that my nightly prayers stopped: I couldn't continue to ask God to forgive me for fornication when I had no real intention of stopping, let alone marrying Peggy.

Immersed in guilt, I started seriously considering suicide. My dislike for service life and the poor living conditions in Korea helped to deepen my depression.

It seemed as though others also had similar wishes for me when one of my fellow airmen said to me in an angry tone, "Meredith, if I were you I'd kill myself!"

And then a few days later, Peggy, in reference to some situation, said, "If I was in a fix like that, I'd kill myself!"

One morning, after spending the night in the village with Peggy, the two of us were walking in the rain along the bank of a small river which was swollen and quite swift due to the heavy seasonal rains. Normally, it would have been a simple matter to cross the river further upstream near the village where Peggy lived, but the water there was now about chest deep. We were therefore walking downstream to a bridge that crossed the river. At that point, the highway to Seoul also crossed the river. Peggy was going to catch a bus to Seoul, and I was headed back to the Air Force compound.

As we rounded a bend in the river, a commotion in the river caught our attention. It was an elderly Korean farmer being swept downstream by the raging current. He was on his back and unable to right himself because of a heavy wooden plow strapped to his back!

I quickly emptied my pockets, kicked off my rubber Korean shoes, and jumped into the water. (My Boy Scout training was about to pay off!) I quickly reached the old man, pulled him loose from the plow, and got him safely to shore. Then I rescued his plow.

The old man was cut and bleeding from the pounding hed taken from being swept against the large boulders in the river, but his wounds did not appear serious enough for emergency first ai

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 18, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469112213

Joel L. Meredith

Joel L. Meredith’s personal, in-depth years of Bible study, his careful research in related materials, and his meticulous attention to detail all combine to produce his enjoyable and educational reference works, which include Meredith’s Book of Bible Lists, Meredith’s Second Book of Bible Lists, and The Gentile Bible. He demonstrates a lighter, humorous side to himself in his book, Adventures in Alliteration. And now here is his Christian autobiography. Joel and his wife, Lorraine live in Texas. He has two daughters, seven grandchildren, two great grandchildren, and two cats. He’s a retired Senior Logistics Engineer who worked in the aerospace industry for almost twenty years.

Book preview

Copyright © 2000 by Joel L. Meredith.

ISBN #:        Softcover        0-7388-3676-1

                     eBook             978-1-4691-1221-3

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

BOOK 2

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

CHAPTER 58

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 60

BOOK 3

CHAPTER 61

CHAPTER 62

CHAPTER 63

This book is dedicated to my daughter,

Janice Meredith

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to pay tribute to the following people for their invaluable help in the preparation of this book.

To my wife, Lorraine, thanks for being a part of the story and for helping to redo this book so many times.

To all who prayed for me and for this book, many many thanks.

CHAPTER 1

THE SHOT HEARD AROUND ON THE

OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

THE DATE: January 26, 1955. It was my twentieth birthday.

THE PLACE: A train on its way from Salt Lake City, Utah to Sacramento, California.

I sat looking out a train window at the scenery speeding by.

MY THOUGHTS: A jumble of emotions.

I was on my way overseas to Korea to serve a tour of duty with the United States Air Force. But first I would stop at McClellan Air Force Base (AFB) near Sacramento for overseas processing.

I was bitter about my overseas assignment, but I was glad that the Korean armistice had finally been signed. At least nobody would be shooting at me, and I wouldn’t have to kill someone else in the name of war.

Just a couple of weeks earlier, my girl friend had rejected my proposal of marriage.

I had asked and asked God to give that girl to me for my wife. God had said no, and I was mad at Him.

MORE TRAVEL: By train to Travis AFB, California and an overnight stay; by plane to Hickam AFB, Hawaii for a short two hour stopover; and by plane to Tokyo, Japan for three days.

THE STORY BEGINS.

The stopover in Tokyo, Japan for three days was for special orientation (no pun intended). In that short time, 1 Sampled Tokyo’s night life, had sex with a Japanese girl in a back alley, and spent the night in a hotel room with a young Japanese prostitute.

It wasn’t my usual style, but then I was mad at God. I decided to hurt Him the only way I knew how: SIN, SIN, SIN.

Soon I was in Korea starting my twelve month tour of duty. Being in Korea was not my idea of fun, but there were certain diversions to take my mind off my misery. I drank a bit, partied a bit, and enjoyed the services of several Korean prostitutes a lot.

Finally, I got tired of partying and settled for shacking up with a Korean girl named Peggy. We rented a room in a village not far from the Air Force compound where I was stationed. This village hideaway gave me some respite from being on call 24 hours a day.

In spite of all this, I continued my lifelong habit of praying every night before going to sleep. Then there came a time that my nightly prayers stopped: I couldn’t continue to ask God to forgive me for fornication when I had no real intention of stopping, let alone marrying Peggy.

Immersed in guilt, I started seriously considering suicide. My dislike for service life and the poor living conditions in Korea helped to deepen my depression.

It seemed as though others also had similar wishes for me when one of my fellow airmen said to me in an angry tone, Meredith, if I were you I’d kill myself!

And then a few days later, Peggy, in reference to some situation, said, If I was in a fix like that, I’d kill myself!

One morning, after spending the night in the village with Peggy, the two of us were walking in the rain along the bank of a small river which was swollen and quite swift due to the heavy seasonal rains. Normally, it would have been a simple matter to cross the river further upstream near the village where Peggy lived, but the water there was now about chest deep. We were therefore walking downstream to a bridge that crossed the river. At that point, the highway to Seoul also crossed the river. Peggy was going to catch a bus to Seoul, and I was headed back to the Air Force compound.

As we rounded a bend in the river, a commotion in the river caught our attention. It was an elderly Korean farmer being swept downstream by the raging current. He was on his back and unable to right himself because of a heavy wooden plow strapped to his back!

I quickly emptied my pockets, kicked off my rubber Korean shoes, and jumped into the water. (My Boy Scout training was about to pay off!) I quickly reached the old man, pulled him loose from the plow, and got him safely to shore. Then I rescued his plow.

The old man was cut and bleeding from the pounding he’d taken from being swept against the large boulders in the river, but his wounds did not appear serious enough for emergency first aid. He thanked me profusely, while Peggy acted as interpreter.

I didn’t take any advantage of my heroism even though it might have won me a medal. Instead, the incident had a strange effect upon me. I had rescued a man doomed to certain death, and therefore I thought that I had bought myself the right to depart this life. I reasoned that the total population would remain balanced!

Still, suicide is not an easy decision. I talked to one of my commanding officers and told him that I was frustrated and that I was contemplating suicide. Unfortunately, he didn’t take me seriously and brushed my problems away by saying, Why, you’re still young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. Suicide is nonsense.

A few nights later, while I was on duty with a fellow airman. I decided that it was time to put an end to everything. I waited until my partner was busy in another part of the compound. Then I took an army .45 pistol from the holster where it was hanging on the wall. I loaded two rounds into the clip and put the clip in the pistol. Then I went outside and knelt down in the warm sand behind the trailer I had just vacated. It was a warm summer night in early July.

I turned my thoughts toward God and prayed, Father in heaven, I can’t help myself. I’m sinning, and I know it, but I just can’t help myself. I just put myself into Your hands, and I do it in the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen.

The next sound in the still night was the roar of a .45 caliber bullet exploding. The slug tore through my head and left me bleeding and screaming obscenities. It felt like I had been hit in the head with a baseball bat, but I was still alive! I wasn’t even unconscious! I really felt cheated!

Almost immediately, the place was swarming with men. I could hear them shouting to one another.

See if you can find where the shot came from!

Be careful! There might be a sniper out there!

Oh, my God! Here’s a pistol! I think he shot himself!

NO! I WANT TO DIE!!!! IT’s NOT FAIR!!! I HATE THIS—PLACE! I screamed.

Then things got a little blurry for awhile until an ambulance arrived. A medic asked, What service is he in?

It was a reasonable question. Our Air Force compound was guarded by Army Military Police. I was wearing Air Force shoes, socks, and belt. My fatigue shirt had an U. S. Marine insignia on it, and I was wearing Army fatigue trousers. (We didn’t overdo military formality in Korea!)

Ironically, the same commanding officer to whom I had gone for help rode with me in the ambulance. I heard him saying over and over again, I just didn’t think that he would do it! I just didn’t think that he would do it!

I raised up the best that I could and said, I told you, but you wouldn’t listen!

He gasped and turned very white indeed!

The ambulance ride ended at a waiting helicopter. I was conscious when they loaded me aboard and when they unloaded me. Then I lost a full day out of my life.

When I came to, my head was shaved on both sides, and my jaws were wired shut.

You know you’ve had a very narrow escape! the doctor said. If the bullet had gone one millimeter more in one direction, you would be dead. If it had gone one millimeter more in the other direction, you would be blind. You see, the bullet entered here by your right temple and exited here under your left eye. You won’t be able to eat any solid food for several weeks until your jawbone heals.

He told me what to do in case I should have a choking spell and then he left. I didn’t get to talk to a doctor again for about three weeks!

I was kept in a private room during that time, and I had a lot of time to think. I wondered if I had any brain damage and whether I could still walk. You see, I didn’t get out of bed for three weeks!

Finally, a doctor came by to check on me, and I asked him whether I could still walk.

I don’t know, he answered. Why don’t you get out of bed and find out for yourself.

When I tried standing, I started to black out. It took some practice to get my sense of balance back, but soon I was up and about again.

The suicide attempt occurred on July 7, 1955. By October 5, 1955, I had been in two more Air Force hospitals (one in Japan and one in California) and was finally discharged from the Air Force (a General Discharge Under Honorable Conditions).

I went to Salt Lake City to stay with my grandmother for a few weeks and then went to Ernest Harmon AFB at Stephenville, Newfoundland to be with my folks (my stepfather was a master sergeant in the Air Force).

In the meantime, it was evident to me that God had kept His hand upon me through all of this and that I now had what I had wanted: (1) I was out of Korea and (2) I was out of the Air Force.

As a result, I became more serious about being a good Mormon. By that I mean that I got busy in the church, I made a conscious effort to think pure thoughts, and I started looking for a mate so that I could get married in the Mormon temple in Salt Lake City.

I jumped into that right quick, didn’t I? Perhaps a little background would be helpful.

I was born into a Mormon family on January 26, 1935. My mother and father were both Mormons and so were their parents.

I started my way up through the ranks of the Mormon priesthood when I was twelve years old. It was then that I was ordained as a Deacon by my paternal grandfather. He also ordained me as a Teacher when I was sixteen, and as a Priest when I was eighteen. These three offices comprise the ranks of the Mormon Aaronic Priesthood.

As a Deacon, I was authorized to pass communion. As a Teacher, I was authorized to go ward teaching (a church visitation program) with an adult male companion. When I became a Priest, I could bless the communion and perform water baptism and did both.

Just before I joined the Air Force at the age of eighteen, I graduated from the ranks of the Aaronic Priesthood and was ordained as an Elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood. (I had been a Priest for only a few months.) Being an Elder gave me authority to do essentially anything that an ordained minister can do. For example, if you have met any Mormon missionaries, they were most likely Elders. (For clarity’s sake, please note that Elders rarely perform marriages, but they can if special permission is granted.)

While I’m on the subject of Mormon doctrine, I’d like to sum up some distinctive Mormon doctrines that set Mormonism apart from mainstream Christianity. For starters, the Mormon concept of the Godhead is very unusual. It is neatly summed up in one of their favorite sayings, As man now is, God once was; and as God is now, man may become. This remarkable doctrine is further compounded by the Mormon teaching that God the Father has a wife in heaven and that they produce spirit offspring which later enter this mortal life through the process of natural birth. Furthermore, Brigham Young, the second President of the Mormon Church, taught that God the Father has a father, a grandfather, a great grandfather, etc.

The Mormon concepts of heaven and hell are also unusual. They believe that the next life is comprised of three degrees of glory: the Telestial, Terrestrial, and the Celestial. Of the three, the Celestial degree is the highest. In order to make it to that degree of glory, a man must hold the Melchizedek Priesthood and be married in a Mormon temple. They also believe that the status you achieve in the next life is in accordance with the works done in this life.

They maintain that life in the lower two degrees of glory is much superior to this mortal life, and so it follows that the worse that can happen to you if you die is better than this life! There is essentially no hell in Mormon theology except as a place of punishment for the sons of perdition. This concept of the afterlife is fairly strange, since the Book of Mormon speaks quite often of hell!

I was often told, when I was growing up, that if people knew how much better the lowest degree of glory is than our present existence, that many people would commit suicide just to get there! That little piece of misinformation helped pave the way for my own suicide attempt.

Mormons also teach that if you die as a non-Mormon that you will get another chance to hear and respond to the true gospel. That second chance will be perfect in that the gospel will be taught without the communication problems we constantly face because of distractions, misunderstandings, etc. There is a drawback though. In order to advance to a higher degree of glory, even if you are converted during your second chance, someone has to be baptized in proxy for you on Earth. This particular doctrine is the foundation for Mormon temples, their genealogy work, and their baptisms for the dead.

There are many interesting and useful books concerning the errors of Mormonism, and it is not my intention to cover the subject more fully except to present just briefly the biblical and traditional Christian perspectives on the subjects already mentioned. Christians have many explanations of the Godhead, depending upon the given denomination; however, they all agree with the Bible when it says that nothing existed before God and that He does not change.

The concepts of hell and eternal punishment were taught very strongly and explicitly by Jesus in all four gospels. Although Jesus went and preached to the spirits in prison, we are informed in 1 Peter 3:19, 20 that they were the spirits of those who died before the flood of Noah’s time.

It is clear that Jesus had a pre-existence before being born of the Virgin Mary. But it is equally as clear that we are born first of the flesh and then of the spirit according to 1 Corinthians 15:46 where it says, Howbeit that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; and afterward that which is spiritual.

Lastly, although baptism for the dead is spoken of in 1 Corinthians 15:29, it is mentioned only in passing when Paul asks the question, Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead? One might conclude that it is presumptuous to base a major doctrine upon a question, especially one that relates to the ubiquitous they.

So much for the background in Mormon and Christian doctrine. On with the story.

I stayed with my folks in Newfoundland for about three months and then returned to Salt Lake City.

I immediately set a goal for myself to get married in the temple by the end of November. And that’s how I managed to get engaged four times after proposing to seven different girls in less than a year!

When I achieved my goal in November, 1956, I expected the temple ceremony to guarantee a long, successful marriage, and I also expected to learn something during the temple ceremony that would fill the puzzling spiritual void which existed deep within me.

Unfortunately, I was to be very much disappointed regarding both expectations.

After eighteen months of marriage, my wife and I knew without a doubt that we were totally incompatible, and we mutually filed for divorce.

I found that temple marriage, paying tithing, faithful church attendance, and considerable other involvement in church activities were not guaranteeing me a successful, happy life.

CHAPTER 2

THE SATURDAY EVENING

PENTECOSTAL POST

Excommunication from the Mormon Church accompanied my divorce. I had said many times that I’d never get married again, but on March 23, 1959, I did it anyway. This time to my present wife, Lorraine. Our first five years of marriage had good times and bad times. We fought, and we made up. In other words, we had a normal marriage except that we separated on two occasions and almost got divorced the second time.

One snowy day, a few months after our last reconciliation, we came home to find something hanging on the doorknob of our front door.

What’s that hanging on the door? I asked as we started up the front walk.

It looks like an advertisement of some kind, replied Lorraine.

Well, bring it inside, I said. There’s no sense in standing out here in the cold to read someone’s commercial!

The flyer left on our doorknob offered a year’s subscription to The Saturday Evening Post at a very reasonable price, but it still wasn’t low enough to tempt me. By then I had been out of work for about nine months, and Lorraine was working in her mother’s rest home for $1.25 per hour. (Lorraine’s mother also helped us out by buying us extra groceries and clothes, and she had us over to dinner frequently.)

I threw the flyer into the waste basket, but, almost simultaneously, my mother-in-law took an identical flyer off of her own doorknob. A few days later, Lorraine brought that flyer home.

"Joel, Mother sent this advertisement home to you. She wants to know if you’d like to subscribe to the Post," said Lorraine.

Only if she wants to pay for it! I snapped. We can’t afford things like that, and you know it.

I thank God for the generosity of my mother-in-law, because she did buy us a subscription to the Post, and the seventh issue of the subscription (May 14, 1964) changed our lives.

That issue included an article titled, AND THERE APPEARED TO THEM TONGUES OF FIRE. It was written by a man named McCandlish Phillips. The article was about Baptists, Episcopalians, and Presbyterians receiving and using the gift of tongues as described in the New Testament (1 Corinthians 14).

Now, the gift of tongues as an idea was by no means new to us. The Mormon Articles of Faith include a statement which says, We believe in the gift of tongues.

Why then were we so moved by this magazine article? What caused us to read it a second time? Why was I saying for days, I can’t get that article off of my mind? Why was I impressed enough to say that God was doing something with His people? And, most important of all, why did I want to be part of it?

Part of the answer to those questions was the way in which the gift of tongues was being manifested, and another part of the answer was the type of people who were involved in the manifestations of the gift. We had been taught as Mormons that the gift of tongues was just a quick way to learn a foreign language, with or without taking language lessons, and that it was a very handy gift for foreign missionaries. We didn’t know anything about the unknown tongues described in 1 Corinthians 14. The article in the Post said people who prayed in tongues were getting marvelous results in answer to their prayers. I was really excited about this mysterious gift, and I fervently desired to know more about it.

When I asked Ike, my Southern Baptist neighbor about it, he told me where to find the biblical accounts of the gift of tongues, but he quickly assured me that he had no personal experiences to share with me. I fared no better when I talked with my Mormon friends and acquaintances.

For several days I kept saying, "I can’t get that article in the Post out of my mind! Finally, Lorraine said, Why don’t we go to one of those prayer meetings in Pennsylvania? You know, like the ones mentioned in the article."

That’s silly! I answered. You know that we can’t afford a trip like that. Hey, wait a minute! Didn’t that article say something about Pentecostal churches? Where’s that magazine?

Lorraine found the magazine for me, and I quickly turned to the article and skimmed through it looking for the word Pentecostal.

Here it is! I shouted. It says that prior to this new movement that the Pentecostal churches had a virtual monopoly on speaking in tongues. Maybe all we have to do is to find a Pentecostal church here in town. What’s that church over on Thirteenth South?

"I don’t know, but I don’t care much for their blinking neon sign that says, JESUS SAVES, answered Lorraine. What’s that little white church over on Seventh East?"

I don’t know, I answered, But it’s only two blocks away. I’ll go check it out.

The church was a white narrow building with a steep green roof and a tall steeple. Over the front door in large black letters was written: UNITED PENTECOSTAL CHURCH. Armed with this little bit of information, I went home.

Lorraine met me at the back door after I put the car in the garage.

Well, we’ve found a place to go, I said. The sign said that the church is Pentecostal.

What time are the meetings? she asked.

I didn’t notice, was my lame reply, But I’ll go by again and find out.

I did go back, but it was about a week later.

Sunday, May 31, 1964, started out much the same way as any other day for us. Lorraine went to work at her mother’s rest home. I stayed home, read the paper, took a bath, and worked on my correspondence course in accounting.

Lorraine came home long enough during the afternoon for us to buy some of the Colonel’s Kentucky fried chicken and to have a picnic in the park. The trip to the park didn’t take long. We lived a half block from it. After eating, I took Lorraine back to work and returned to the park to practice gymnastics with some friends.

Two hours later, I went home and got ready to go to church. Lorraine was already home waiting for me. The short trip to the church was the start of a very, very long journey.

When we first entered the church, we noticed a young man kneeling at his pew in prayer. It was the first of the many unusual things (unusual to us that is) we were to see and hear that night. For example, the pastor started the meeting by asking the congregation if anyone had any prayer requests. Many people expressed their needs and desires.

Let’s all stand and take these needs before the Throne of Grace, said the pastor.

Everyone stood up, and, each with his or her own spontaneous words, they all started praying out loud at the same time. And I mean very out loud! They also had their hands raised toward heaven as they prayed! This was almost too much for us to take.

These poor people! I thought to myself. Oh, God please help them. They really need it!

Similar thoughts were also running through Lorraine’s mind, but we really hadn’t seen anything yet. The order of the service changed, and the song leader was called to the pulpit. There were no musicians to play the church’s piano or the organ, so the congregation sang acappella and clapped their hands to keep time!

Surely this must be sacrilegious, I thought. I found my place in the hymnal and joined the singing as best I could, but I would not, could not, clap.

Though already somewhat shaken, we stayed on. Curiosity had brought us this far and would keep us there until the very end. Or was it just curiosity?

The next part of the service, a time of individual testimonies, was not new to us. It was a regular feature of a meeting held once a month in the Mormon church. Anyway, during this particular session, we paid particular attention to the testimony of a pretty girl in her late teens. She was quite tearful as she stood and thanked God for a second chance. We took note of the young baby with her, noted that she was otherwise alone, and wondered what her full story might be.

Following testimonies, everyone stood by request, raised both hands in the air, and shouted praises to the Lord!

I love You, Jesus!

Praise God!

Hallelujah!

We were shaken by the noise, but I couldn’t help but admire the devotion evident in their very active form of worship.

It’s strange, since so many other things stick in my mind about that meeting, that I do not remember one word from the sermon or even what the subject was! I only remember that it was hard hitting and unlike anything I had ever heard.

When the altar call (invitation to come forward for salvation) was given, a few people responded. Others were immediately enlisted to help pray for the seekers. I watched in fascination, with my attention shifting from one seeker to another, until I suddenly became very aware of the teenaged girl noticed previously in the testimony service. I poked Lorraine. She’s speaking in tongues, I whispered.

I know, Lorraine answered. She’s been doing it for several minutes.

When we got home, I wrote the following in my diary, "Witnessed a girl speaking in tongues at church tonight. She was confessing her sins and praising God. There was no interpretation; it seemed unnecessary inasmuch as it was between God and her. We spoke with the pastor after the meeting about speaking in tongues.

When Lorraine and I got home (about 10:45 PM), we talked it over, and we were impressed by the same things in the same ways. I prayed and was able to testify to God that Jesus is the Christ. That’s the first time in about six years that I could say that. I believe a new life has begun for us."

A new life was truly beginning, but we didn’t realize how sweeping and all encompassing it would be.

CHAPTER 3

BAPTIZED IN SULFUR WATER

The next night, for the first time in our lives, we watched a Billy Graham crusade on television. When the altar call was given, I responded by praying the sinner’s prayer in my own way, thinking as I did that I was just reaffirming an old belief.

What did you think of that? I asked Lorraine as I switched the television set off.

I can’t get over all of those people! What do you suppose happened to them when they went down to see Billy? responded Lorraine.

I don’t know, but I wish that they would have shown more about that. I was just getting interested when it was suddenly all over, I answered.

Our conversation lasted another hour and a half. Later, I summed up my reactions to these events by writing the following in my diary, My life is now changing for the better. I have asked God for the truth. He has promised me that I may have it.

All of this spiritual fervor was in stark contrast to our usual life style, especially our life style of the then recent past.

For example, we were still working at reconciling our marriage which had come so close to being dissolved only eight months earlier.

During the several months that we were separated, about the only constructive thing that I did was to start writing a book. I use the term constructive rather loosely, because it was a dirty joke book. Ironically enough, the manuscript was sent to a prospective publisher just five weeks before Lorraine and I went to our first Pentecostal meeting.

Much had gone into the preparation of the joke book, which was full length and included several original cartoons which I drew. However, on June 2nd, I recorded in my diary, I’m debating the advisability of taking my joke book off of the market due to its irreligious content. I am suddenly not very proud of it. If the sale of the book will pay my debts, then so be it. My sin was in preparing the material, the publisher’s in printing it, and the buyer’s in purchasing it. I expect that I may sin in the future, but I do not plan it. Let this sin be in the past, though I may gain worldly rewards in the present. For this may give me the scope of freedom to do the Lord’s will and not do an injustice to my creditors.

As you can see, I was coming along, but the Lord still had plenty of rough edges to work upon.

Another area of our lives was also changing. Within a week of that first Pentecostal meeting, I was praying morning, noon, and night, and I was doing it every day.

Just a few days later, we attended our first mid-week Bible study. Lorraine went home at 10:00 PM, but I stayed and talked with the pastor until 1:00 AM. It was a momentous occasion, for it was then that I decided to be baptized in water.

Why do you want to be baptized? asked the pastor.

Because I believe that Jesus died for my sins. I accept Him as my personal Savior, and I believe that water baptism is called for in the Bible, I answered.

Some of the words were not yet familiar to me, but something told me that it was the right answer.

Lorraine was not in favor of my being baptized so soon after getting involved with the little church.

To Lorraine, water baptism was synonymous with joining the church, and she could not make that much commitment to something about which we knew so little. However, the pastor convinced us that water baptism was as unto the Lord and would not commit us to join the church.

In the meantime, I started seeking the baptism of the Holy Ghost as it is described in the book of Acts. My first experience at such seeking took place at a Bible study. I was pretty confident that it would be over and done with in short order. I’ll show them how it’s done, I thought. After all, I’ve got a lot of faith! When I didn’t receive an immediate manifestation of tongues, I convinced myself that I would receive the Holy Spirit at my water baptism. I was so sure of this that I stood up at the altar rail (actually it was more like a wooden bench) and interrupted the rest of the congregation by loudly proclaiming, Hey, everybody! Be sure to come to my water baptism. That’s when I’m going to get the baptism of the Holy Ghost! I’m not sure, but I think that several people shook their heads and sighed deeply.

In the interval between that meeting and my forthcoming baptismal service, I read the eleventh chapter of Luke where it says, When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house whence I came out. And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked than himself; and they enter in, and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first.

When I considered my own sinful, decadent past, I couldn’t help but wonder whether my unsuccessful seeking of the baptism of the Holy Spirit was because of such demon activity.

Our little church didn’t have a baptistry, so we held the baptismal service at a large swimming pool complex (Wasatch Springs) which gets its water from a hot sulfur spring (an unusual setting for a Christian baptism!). The church rented one of the many private family sized hot mineral pools. A goodly bunch of the folks from the church jammed into this small room. They sang several hymns with much fervor, and then, as I stepped down into the water, the pastor asked me, Do you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Savior?

Yes, I do.

Then I baptize you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, he said and laid me down under the steaming water.

When I came up again, he pulled my hands into the air and commanded me to praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! I shouted. Then I let my tongue run wild for a bit as I continued shouting, but no one, including myself, accepted my gibberish as authentic tongues.

The congregation filed out slowly, and, as the pastor and I climbed out of the pool, I was surprised to find that my body was tingling alI over from the effects of the hot mineral water. I was mildly embarrassed at the prospect of changing out of my wet things in front of my pastor, but putting that concern out of my mind I turned to him and said, Put your hands on my head and cast the devil out of me seven times.

His eyes opened wide at such a suggestion, but, not wanting to miss the Lord in this, he readily