Chapter Zero: The Life—And the Book—Almost Aborted

By Jim Ray

Exceedingly, abundantly above anything you can ask or think! How is that possible? Our eternal God is already present in the future! How do we know?

He has provided us with hundreds of promises and prophecies hundreds, even thousands, of years in advance that have been specifically fulfilled! His answers to our prayers are on the way before we even know there is a need for us to pray!

Jims life is a testimony of Gods advance provision during his three quarters of a century. You will enjoy a little humor among the miracles and circumstances of his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: May 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781512787115

Jim Ray

“Applicant must have a wide variety of qualifying experience.” This statement was often on promotional test announcements during Jim’s extensive civil service career. Through the ranks from Junior Clerk, stock clerk, warehouse manager, purchasing agent to Materials Analyst, Jim’s wide range of interests and experiences qualified him for numerous promotions. Cowboy, farmer, rancher, ‘city kid’, husband, father, radio announcer, salesman, investor, business owner, developer, property rehab specialist, Sunday School teacher, Christian Education Director, board member (church, school and rescue mission), soloist, Gospel quartet singer, gardener, inventor, writer and organizer. Jim accredits all of the amazing – sometimes miraculous events in this book to the prayers of individuals in his life. Jim has written this book for the purpose of giving praise and thanks to God – and to encourage you, the reader, to fully place your trust in Jesus Christ.

Book preview

CHAPTER Zero?

No book has a Chapter Zero!

Books have a Foreword. They have an Introduction. They have a Preface. But of the hundreds of books I’ve read, none has had a Chapter Zero.

Since this is a collection of the essays of my life, I must begin before Chapter One.

When my Mother was carrying me in her womb, her doctor informed her that I would be ‘stillborn’ and that an abortion should be performed.

Having had multiple miscarriages, my Mother refused to accept the diagnosis. Instead, she began calling and writing family members and friends, asking them to pray for her unborn baby to be alive and well.

Mother was born into a non-Christian home, but her entire family became Christians during her childhood. She became very familiar with the numerous passages in the Bible which chide those which exhibit little or no faith. She also knew many Scriptures which encourage prayer with faith.

Having seen miracles on many occasions in the lives of her parents and others as a result of prayers, prayer was Mother’s first thought. I am here as a living testimony to answered prayer.

Mother’s Uncle John was a grain harvester who followed the harvest with his harvesting equipment from the lower United States all the way into Canada each year. One evening, as he walked along a street in Canada, he heard singing which attracted him into a storefront building where a church service was in progress.

The music was so attractive that he stayed through the preaching service. When attendees were invited to come forward to pray for salvation, he responded.

Immediately, he felt like a new person (John 3:3,7). When he returned home to his extended family in Nebraska, he began sharing what he had experienced and what he had learned. Many family members accepted Christ as their Savior. My Grandfather was resistant. However, he was very observant of the behavioral changes in his family.

Grandpa had a reputation for playing cards. He was credited with the ability to hold a deck of cards behind his back and pull out any card someone named.

One particular evening, he drove the family to church and sat in the service as a doubting spectator. At the end of the service, he went to the altar and prayed, God, if you really exist, reveal yourself to me.

Instantly, he received assurance and was delivered from gambling, tobacco, alcohol and a profane vocabulary. The transformation in his life was immediately evident to everyone who knew him. He withdrew from an organization which practiced secret handshakes, ceremonies, and oaths which were not in agreement with the Holy Bible.

My maternal Grandparents were farmers – unable to afford mechanization. They used manual labor and draft horses to do all of their farm work. One of their most valuable draft horses was down and was expected to die unless a miracle took place.

Unable to afford a veterinarian, my Grandmother and Grandfather took cooking oil from their kitchen and exercised the Biblical instruction of James 5:14. They laid their hands on the horse after applying oil on the forehead of the horse and prayed for divine healing. The horse was restored to perfect health and lived many more years, contributing to planting and harvesting of crops!

Grandma had a severely collapsed stomach brought about by strenuous work in the fields in addition to giving birth to multiple children. One Sunday morning, she responded to an altar call for the prayer of faith to be offered for the sick. When Grandmother was prayed for, witnesses watched her stomach ‘jumping’. What had been literally hanging down was instantly firmed up into proper position. That healing lasted for more than fifty years!

Many other miracles happened in response to the prayers of my Grandparents.

Prayer should be our FIRST RECOURSE – NOT our last resort!

When my Mother was fourteen, she had a cousin of the same age. They had a very close relationship. The cousin was terminally ill and my Mother was with her when she died.

As she was dying, the cousin asked my Mother, Can you hear them? The angels are singing and they’re coming to take me. Can you see them? They’re so beautiful! The music is so beautiful!

With those words she took her final breath.

What a glorious and peaceful ‘home going’ which my Mother was privileged to witness.

I am now more than my allotted threescore and ten years of age (Psalm 90:10) and can attest of a certainty that prayer has saved my life on multiple occasions.

My prayer for you is that what you read in this book will strengthen your faith and enrich your life.

Chapter 1 – My First Year

The year was 1942.

World War II had just broken out.

Fear, apprehension, and uncertainty were rampant.

Every home was affected by the war as family members, neighbors and friends were responding to the call to defend our country and support the cause of freedom in Europe.

My Father felt it was his duty to report for military duty but was told he was too small in stature to join. He had previously received a vision in which he was called into the ministry. When I was only six weeks old, he moved us from Nebraska to Texas, just in time to begin attending classes at Southwest Bible College. In preparation for the move, he designed and built a ‘trailer house’ for us to live in.

Needing employment to support our family and to pay for his education, he worked at a munitions plant. Attending daytime classes required night work. Due to segregation, the ‘whites’ worked day shifts and ‘blacks’ worked night shifts with a ‘white’ supervisor.

Being a Northerner Dad wasn’t prejudiced against his workers. Instead, he befriended them, even transporting some in our car.

The following year my Mom took me, via Greyhound bus, from Texas to Nebraska to visit her parents. Later, my Dad drove up for a visit and to take us back home. En route, near Salida, Kansas, my Mom was driving. I was in my Dad’s arms wrapped in multiple blankets. Our vehicle was struck head-on by a car which was reported to have been traveling at 75 miles per hour. The occupants of the other vehicle were drunken sailors, having their last fling before being shipped out the following day. They were also reported to be driving a car without the owner’s permission.

Seeing no way to escape the collision, Mom stopped our car before it was struck.

It was a miracle that no one was killed in the crash!

The impact of the collision tore me from my Dad’s arms and threw me to the floor of the car. Others were injured but everyone survived. When I arrived at the hospital for examination, shattered glass was throughout all of my blankets and clothing, but I didn’t have any injuries!

My Mother’s internal injuries prevented her from caring for me. We had no relatives in Texas to assist her. However, the African American wives and mothers of the men on Dad’s crew rallied around us and took care of our needs; cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, feeding and changing me (the baby).

I am fortunate to have parents who were not prejudiced and who told me of the kindness, love, and assistance of those precious friends and neighbors. I grew up without prejudice and have had many friends, neighbors and schoolmates of color.

God is not a respecter of persons. (Acts 10:34; Romans 2:11; Colossians 3:11)

Chapter 2 – My Second Year

Having completed his first year of Bible college, Dad was given assignments to minister in various places during his second year. You might call it on-the-job training.

He preached in numerous small churches in the region and was affiliated with the very large Assembly of God Church in Fort Worth under Pastor Jacob Filbert.

Pastor Filbert was a Pentecostal Jew and a dynamic man who thrived on training young Bible college students. I was privileged to have been dedicated to the Lord by Pastor Filbert.

Meanwhile, in Dallas, Texas, Pastor Lorin Statts, who pastored a large Baptist church, was praying with his deacons for God to send them a revival. Suddenly, the Holy Ghost descended upon them all and they began speaking in languages unknown to them.

Pastor Statts called Pastor Filbert, asking if he would come and teach them about the Holy Spirit.

Pastor Statts promptly explained to his congregation what had transpired, then offered to resign his pastorate. The congregation would not accept his resignation. Instead, they became an Assembly of God church.

Later, my Dad and Mom took me to Pastor Statts’ church. Upon entering, an usher asked them who they were. Dad explained that he was from Pastor Filbert’s Fort Worth church. The greeter immediately told Pastor Statts that we were there. He invited Dad to sit on the platform.

When Pastor Statts approached the pulpit, he held me up for the congregation to see the baby, then said he would be making the announcements after which Rev. Lowell Ray would preach the morning sermon.

My Dad had only five minutes to prepare!

The point is to be ready at all times! You never know when you’ll be called upon to present the Gospel. (2 Timothy 4:2)

Another absolute miracle occurred during my second year of life. At that time, my Dad was the interim pastor of a small country church. It was his practice to visit the home of church attendees. On one occasion, the jealous, deranged husband of a lady who attended the church, was angry about his wife spending too much time at that church.

He offered my Dad a cold drink of lemonade – laced with poison!

My Dad survived – just as Scripture said he would!

"They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." (Mark 16:18 KJV; Emphasis added)

Just to clarify, we do not practice taking up serpents. Jesus told Satan not to tempt God.

Chapter 3 – My Third Year

Toward the end of his second year of studies for the ministry, Dad was invited by one of his workers to preach in his African American church. Dad said he would do so if he would bring a letter of invitation from his pastor.

When our family arrived at the church, there was a large welcoming committee waiting for us. They readily received us into their ‘church family’.

When fellow Bible students learned that he had preached to ‘blacks’, they were angry and highly critical.

Dad said, "You spend thousands of dollars to send missionaries to Africa to preach the Gospel, but you won’t cross the tracks to reach out to your neighbors?"

Immediately, Dad transferred to Seattle, Washington, where he enrolled at Northwest Bible College, in Kirkland.

He continued attending classes by day and worked nights to support our family and to pay for his education. We lived in a basement apartment. There was a neon sign mounted on our apartment building advertising the "Squirt" brand, soft drink. Being short of stature, he was razzed about "Squirt, living under a squirt sign!"

Dad worked at various jobs; a title company, a cookie factory, a Carnation ice cream plant, and he sorted U.S. Mail on a train between Seattle and Vancouver B.C.

I don’t have a personal memory, but have been told that I would wake every night at the time my Dad came home from work. I would eat the cookie or ice cream novelty which he brought home then would go back to sleep. (I was blessed to grow up as a skinny kid, even after all those midnight snacks!)

My Aunt Ava was living with us in Seattle. An earthquake shook the entire region, but once again, the Lord watched over our family. No injury or loss occurred. I remember my Aunt Ava grabbing hold of the dresser, exclaiming that felt she was dizzy. In reality, it was the movement of the mirror she was looking into, not dizziness!

When the earthquake struck, the manager of the ice cream plant where Dad worked feared for his life. He made a screaming run for the exit. As the next jolt hit, he was thrown off his stride and smacked into the concrete wall next to the door. Knocked unconscious, he rode out the rest of the shaking, unaware.

During the final two years of college, Dad and Mom ministered on Indian reservations and in country churches. They also ministered to incarcerated men and women in jails and prisons.

Chapter 4 – My Fourth Year

We continued to live in the Northwest during my fourth year. Dad and Mom pastored the little white church on the hill in Port Ludlow, Washington.

Aunt Ava continued to live with us and worked in a munitions plant on Indian Island.

It was during that time that she met her future husband.

Word got around the community that the preacher at the little white church on the hill was worth hearing. Attendance grew significantly. Even Catholics who had been forbidden by their priest to attend the pentecostal services asked if they could slip in through a door behind the platform and listen from a storeroom so they wouldn’t be recognized.

In 2006, my cousin and her husband who lived in Port Angeles, Washington, invited several of us to attend a family reunion.

While we were together, we drove to Port Ludlow and inquired about the little white church on the hill. Sixty years after Dad and Mom pastored there, the church and parsonage are still there!

It was a grand time of fond remembrances of early beginnings.

I value the old photographs and family conversations of past years and experiences.

Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations: ask thy father, and he will shew thee; thy elders, and they will tell thee. (Deuteronomy 32:7 KJV)

Chapter 5 – My Fifth Year

Like migratory birds, when Dad graduated from Bible college, we moved right back to the Nebraska town where I had been born. As a kindergartener, I was required to memorize my home address. It was 1313 Park Avenue!

I still remember that address. It’s a good thing that I memorized my address because when I ran away from a babysitter’s home, a postal carrier rescued me and got me back home.

The husband of my sitter was a harsh man who didn’t particularly like kids.

He threatened to lock me and a playmate in a backyard shed if we disobeyed his rules. I was fearful of being locked in a dark shed, so I decided I would walk home. Thank the Lord that the postal carrier rescued me!

To recover financially after his college years and to become established, Dad accepted employment at a propane distribution center. He learned all facets of the operation which prepared him to later become a facility manager.

Sometime during my fifth year, Dad became aware of a large growth in his side. He consulted a local physician and was told that he had a tumor and needed surgery. During the surgery, an eight pound malignant tumor was removed. It was then discovered that Dad also had leukemia.

Two other men were leukemia patients under the same doctor’s care. One had been given three months to live. The other man was given six weeks. My Dad was told he had six months to live.

Both of the other patients died as predicted.

My Dad was confident that God had called him to preach the Gospel and he had a family which needed his care. He was convinced that the prayer of faith shall save the sick (James 5:13-15 KJV).

One Friday night after work, Dad loaded us into the family car and drove us to Omaha.

A lady evangelist was conducting healing meetings in the memorial auditorium.

Having to drive such a distance after working hours, we arrived late. We found seats high up in the balcony, far from the platform. Toward the end of the service, those seeking healing were invited to come and stand in front of the platform.

Dad immediately rose, climbed up the stairs to the concourse and made his way down to the main floor. He was barely recognizable from where we were seated but I intently, visually followed him to observe what would happen.

There was a very long line of people standing across the front. When the evangelist approached my Dad, she reached out her hand to touch his forehead with anointing oil and to pray for him.

She never made contact!

The power of the Holy Spirit touched