Ministry Moments:
"We’ve come together to pray for food"
by Lynn Ridenhour
It’s been said—you won’t be happy in heaven
unless you’ve been to an old-fashioned southern camp meeting. Milldale Bible
Camp located in Zachary, LA, was just that—a hand-clappin’, foot-stompin’
shouting Baptist camp meeting. And people came from everywhere. Up north. Down
south. Back east. And out west. Cars, buses, and vans with license plates from
over 20 or 30 states were a common sight parked in the parking lots. You mustn’t
forget—some of those old-time Baptists really walked with God.
I remember ole Brother Jesse Norris. I called him "the Holy
Cowboy." Brother Jesse was as bowlegged as they come from riding all
those rodeo horses before he "got saved" and before he became an
evangelist. Brother Jesse was one of the holiest men I’ve ever known. I
could write a book about the Holy Cowboy.
One day Brother Jesse came walking towards me before the first camp meeting
service was about to begin. People were beginning to congregate. He had his
regular suit on, but I noticed he also had a rope tied around the outside of
his suit coat. I hollered, "…Brother Jesse…" He saw me
and came walking towards me. That rope looked mighty funny wrapped around the
outside of his jacket.
"…What are you doing, Brother Jesse?…"
He looked me in the eye, grabbed both my shoulders with his cowboy hands,
leaned toward my ear and whispered, "…I’m bound unto the Lord…"
and walked away, heading in the direction of the singing with the rope
dangling from his suit.
The campgrounds were located about thirteen miles north of Baton Rouge. A
Baptist preacher by the name of Jimmy Robertson felt God’s call one day to
resign his church in town, move out to the country, buy some land and start
praying for revival. He was our pastor and we called him "Brother
Jimmy." I was the youth pastor.
Milldale Bible Camp was located on twenty-five acres. The campground had
some dormitories, a mess hall, and a huge auditorium that would seat over
1,000 people. Plus a small country church. Families soon felt the call of God
too to join Brother Jimmy. A small community of believers begin to come forth.
We helped out during the four camp meetings a year, doing whatever needed to
be done. The church had about seventy members, but we prayed for revival
around the world.
I lived in a small apartment in back of one of the dorms.
Brother Jimmy was a man of faith. I’ve seen him pray for just about
anything. I remember one camp meeting we ran out of food. About a thousand
people were there that week. The meetings ran from Sunday to Saturday, and we
never charged tuition or fees of any kind. Families came, stayed free in our
dormitories, ate our food, and were blessed. Brother Jimmy simply expected God
to provide.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, half way through the camp meeting. The word
was out that Brother Jimmy wanted everyone in the big auditorium, children and
all. When the auditorium was packed Brother Jimmy got up to speak.
"…Brothers and sisters, I want us to pray. We’ve come together to
pray for food. We’ve run out and we’re half way through the camp meeting…"
It was an unusual sight to see one thousand people, young and old, kneeling
together, asking God for food. That’s a powerful, spiritual moment, and
heaven was not silent. Before any of us could get up off our knees, we heard
trucks pulling into the campground.
They were loaded with food.
"…And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will
answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." --Isa.65:24
Those trucks had to load up and leave Baton Rouge before we started
praying.
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