The Holy Spirit, Elvis, and Me

By Rev. Brenda Wathen Wick

This book is about my life in a small town in southern Indiana during the 1950s, when Elvis’s music first became popular, and about his influence in my life. It is also about my experiences along the way in finding other avenues for art instruction to expand my God-given talent, as art was not taught in my school. It also tells of the adventure and my quest for front row seats at an Elvis concert so that I might reach my life-long dream of giving one of my portraits of him to Elvis in person. It also tells of the unexpected pleasure and joy of meeting Elvis’s father, Vernon, and being welcomed into his home. I have also shared here the accounts of hearing God’s voice and seeing the signs He gave to me along the way while calling me to becoming a pastor: words which were true and signs I could not miss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645314387

Book preview

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The Holy Spirit, Elvis, and Me

Rev. Brenda Wathen Wick

Copyright © 2019 Rev. Brenda Wathen Wick

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2019

Photographs by Michael Wathen

ISBN 978-1-64531-437-0 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64531-438-7 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Just a Fan

To my tangible blessings, Jacob, Veronica, Asher, and Ayden Wathen.

Just a Fan

I’ve thought about putting my story down for a long time, but now, more and more often I’ve been thinking about it and decided I was being led to do so.

I don’t know who might be interested in reading this, maybe no one, maybe some of my family. Maybe the someone who will read it will be my grandchildren or even my great grandchildren someday.

I was asked a few weeks ago if I have ever heard God speak to me audibly. My answer, Yes, I have, on more than one occasion. The first time was sometime in the ’70s. I have lived my whole life in a hurry. I always have so much to do, but at least since I was in my teens, I pray, or perhaps, it is having a conversation with God all the time, every day.

First Thessalonians 5:17 says, Pray continually. I do that. Sometimes God knows it is in desperation. I can’t imagine what one thinks about if you are not speaking with God. Unless I am having a conversation with someone, I am talking to God.

Maybe that’s why He speaks to me sometimes. My grandson, who is eight, asked me one day why I say, Lord, have mercy, sometimes when we are together.

Someday, he’ll understand.

Our country radio station in town kept advertising a promotion. All you had to do was to send your name in for a drawing. They were giving away a stereo and five hundred dollars’ worth of albums to play on it. I had heard this promotion several times but never thought about sending my name in.

Then one afternoon, I was busy doing something in my kitchen when they advertised it again. I suddenly felt jittery, nervous for some reason, and my thought process was speeded up to overdrive. Then I heard the most beautiful voice say to me, Stop what you are doing and write your name down.

I did so, and my handwriting was the most beautiful I had ever seen. I remember thinking, My God, I’ve won that stereo. The day of the drawing came, and I simply stood by the radio and waited for the disk jockey to call my name.

He said, The winner is, and he said my name. I wasn’t surprised.

I won the stereo and albums, and I knew I was going to since the day I heard that voice. Now I had a beautiful new stereo to play my Elvis albums on.

My family knows I went to high school in Elberfeld, Indiana, a small town in Southern Indiana. I love Southern Indiana. Anytime someone asks where I am from, I always answer Southern Indiana, with emphasis on the southern.

Southern Indiana is vastly different from Northern Indiana, which is heavily industrial. When I was growing up, Southern Indiana, at least my area, was mostly farming and coal mining.

That’s what I knew about, as my daddy and his side of the family were all coal miners, and my grandfather on my