Gift of Faith
(continued)

Part Two

{click here for part one}

by Lynn Ridenhour

A month goes by and I start receiving notices from the hospital that my bill was due. Another month goes by. And another. I'm getting really nervous. I don't have the money. And I tell the Lord, "Lord, I need $600."

Finally, the hospital wants their money. The notices keep getting nastier. You know how that is. I've got to do something. And I'm down in the dumps. Here I trusted God and now look at me. I'm about to get sued!

I don't know what to do. Out of desperation, I remember Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob is my "rich uncle." Maybe I can sell Uncle Bob my '38 Chevy for $600. I had fixed it up, painted it metallic blue, put white & blue pleated leather seat covers in it, a blue carpet on the floor, with white leather door panels and a white leather ceiling-and a blue light. It was definitely worth $600. Uncle Bob lived about 200 miles away. One weekend I drove down, praying most of the way.

I pull up in Uncle Bob's driveway. He's out in the garage and notices me. I see him walking toward my '38 Chevy. And I'm praying, "O, Lord, please let him notice it."

He shakes my hand, tells me how good it is to see me, then points to the house, "go inside and say hello to your grandma. She'll be glad to see you." He didn't say a word about the car.

We visit awhile, then Uncle Bob says, "Nephew, come with me." We get in his Jeep. "I've never showed you our farm." While driving me around his 150 acre farm on the way back to the house, we come upon a '51 Chevy parked in the barn. "Uncle Bob, is that yours?." He nods.

"It took me two years talking my neighbor out of it. It only has 41,000 miles on it. He only drove it to town and back. I just bought it from him."

We pull up next to it and get out of the Jeep. Uncle Bob opens one of the doors. It slams like new. Sure enough, the car is in mint condition. "Here, take the keys and drive it. We've got to go get some ice cream."

I took the keys and drove it to the Dairy Queen. On the way back, Uncle Bob begins talking. "Nephew, I've never done anything for you. I want to give you this car."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Here I am at Uncle Bob's to sell him mine and he's giving me his! I didn't know what to say. Just to be nice (I had to say something) I said, "Uncle Bob, you can't do that. It took you two years to buy this car from your neighbor."

"No. I've made up my mind. Let's go back to the house and fill out the papers."

We did. We went back to the house, filled out the papers, I drove my '38 Chevy back home, caught the train and drove my '51 Chevy back to the house. Now I have two cars. A couple days later, the phone rings. It's Joe Hoover, a friend. "Lynn, I'm going down right now to pick up a new car. The Lord has laid it on my heart to give you my car. I'll be right over."

I can't believe it. Joe gives me his '55 Oldsmobile. Now I have three cars. I sell one. Give one away. And keep one. And you guessed it--I have exactly $600 to pay off my hospital bill. I learned a valuable lesson. It's not for me to say how or when the Lord will accomplish what He sets out to do. I never would have paid off a hospital bill that way! But it's none of my business. It's my business simply to believe Him. The Lord wanted me to trust Him no matter what. Especially when circumstances look like they've turned against me. When we're walking by faith, we can't trust our circumstances. They lie. I'm glad I learned that lesson early, for I would need to rely on it later again and again.

"Tell them, you're going."

A strange twist of events occurred soon after Brother Beasley left. Brother Manley was impressed with my hunger for God. Two weeks after he had left, I received a letter from Milldale Bible Conference, Zachary, Louisiana. It was signed "Jimmy Robertson, Pastor."

They were looking for a Youth Pastor and had invited me to come "by faith." Brother Manley had recommended me. Four evangelists worked out of the Bible camp. Manley was one of those evangelists. I was in heaven. I couldn't believe I had been asked. I really had to seek the Lord's will, for I immediately wanted to go. I had heard about these people. Brother Manley had taught them the principles of faith, especially how to live their lives by the gift of faith. They were a small community of saints living together on 50 acres just 20 miles north of Baton Rouge-about 30 families. It was a Bible camp and families drove from all over the United States to attend the week-long Bible camps. They had four camps a year. I was invited to minister to the youth.

I had just turned 25 and had one more year of college. It was difficult to pray. It wasn't long, however, 'till the answer was clear-I was to go. I would have to finish my last year of college later. I threw everything I had in the back of my Oldsmobile and headed south. I was given an apartment in the back of one of the dormitories on the campgrounds, and was told I would be living by faith. There was no salary.

O, the things that I saw!

I saw God move mightily in camp meetings. I saw people slain in the Spirit, laid out on the ground under the power of God. I saw demons leave the possessed (not a pretty sight). I saw blind eyes opened. I saw little children perform miracles "in the name of Jesus." I saw God's glory.

Pastor Jimmy (as we all called him) was a man of great faith, a man in his late 30s. The camp was always growing, or building something. I remember we needed $13,000 to finish the prayer chapel. James Stewart, missionary to Europe, was walking down the gravel road one day in front of the chapel, reminiscing with Pastor Jimmy. "How much do you need to complete this?" he asked. "We need $13,000 more," said our pastor.

Right then and there the missionary knelt in front of the chapel on the gravel road and prayed. Two hours later there was excitement in the worship hall. Someone had stuck in Pastor Jimmy's mail box a check for $13,000! And everyone was praising God with a shout.

I remember another time we ran out of food. The camp meetings were free of charge. Pastor Jimmy believed in trusting God for our daily provisions rather than charging the Lord's people. We were halfway through the camp meeting-around midweek-when our pastor called everyone into the dining hall. "Brothers and sisters, we've run out of food. I've called us here to pray (over 1,000 were in attendance), to ask the Lord to supply our need."

Everyone knelt.

I don't mind telling you, it was a holy sight to see over 1,000 saints kneeling in prayer before empty plates, asking the Lord to send food. I wasn't used to this kind of faith. God is my witness-while we were yet asking, trucks were pulling up outside, delivering food!

I'll never forget the prayer for the bowling alley. The camp had outgrown its dining hall. We couldn't feed everybody; there just wasn't room enough. One day Pastor Jimmy was driving down one of the main highways in Baton Rouge. And he passed by a bowling alley that was being torn down. He pulled over to the side of the road, got out of his car, and walked over to the site, asking to see the foreman.

It was on a Wednesday night when Pastor Jimmy was telling us. We met together as a community every Wednesday evening for prayer. There was less than 100 of us-around 30 couples who had congregated. I'm sitting there listening.

"Brothers and sisters, I asked the foreman if the bowling alley was for sale. It would make a perfect dining hall for us. He said it was. I asked him 'how much?' He said '$100,000,' and I said, 'I'll take it.' I just bought us a bowling alley."

I'm not used to this. I hadn't been there that long yet. I'm not used to such boldness. I'm looking around, noticing that most of us are poor to poor-middle income families. And there's only a handful of us. I knew this church did not have $100,000. I wasn't ready for what I heard next.

"Church, I believe if we all come to the altar and pray, and ask the Lord to move on that foreman's heart, I believe he'll give us that bowling alley."

Everyone immediately moved out of their seats and knelt at the altar. It seemed no big deal to them. They seemed to be used to it. I followed. This is the first time I ever knelt in church, asking God for a bowling alley.

The next day Pastor Jimmy went back to purchase the bowling alley. The foreman told him, "tell you what, pastor. You bring your men, tear the building down, and you can have it. We'll give it to you." I was part of the wrecking crew. And stood amazed as I saw the men of our church disassemble a bowling alley, hire a crane to haul the steel frame out to the camp grounds, and reassemble it, turning it into a spacious dining hall for the Lord's people-free of charge! We sold the lumber off the siding to pay for renting the crane.

Jewish evangelist Hyman Appleman from Kansas City was our keynote speaker. He asked the campers, "how many of you would like to see the apostle Paul? Raise your hands." I raised mine. I would love to visit with the apostle Paul.

"I can't do that," he said. "But I can take you with me as we follow in the steps of the apostle Paul." He was talking about taking a tour to the Holy Land and touring the three missionary journeys of the apostle. I sat there, yearning to go. I had always longed to go to the Holy Land. To walk where Jesus walked. Visit the sites he visited. See where he was born. Gaze on Golgotha's Hill. Evangelist Appleman had left us a brochure of the trip. They would be leaving in three months. I looked and looked at that brochure, daydreaming what it would be like.

One Sunday afternoon, between services, I was alone in my room, and felt the urge to kneel in prayer. To ask our Heavenly Father if He would let me go. I prayed with tears and the answer came. "tell them you're going and that I have already paid your way." God could not have said it clearer over the phone. He meant-tell the people tonight in the worship service. I told the Lord, "Lord, you know Pastor Jimmy very rarely gives opportunity for us to speak."

That evening before he addressed the people, Pastor Robertson said, "Does anyone have anything they would like to say?"

That gave me courage. I stood but still was shaking. "Brothers and sisters, I have always wanted to go to the Holy Land, and you remember a few weeks ago Evangelist Appleman was here, asking for those who would like to go with him. Well, I'm going with him. The Lord has already paid my fares and expenses. We'll be leaving in two weeks." And I sat down.

Brother Manley Beasley was sitting in the audience. He was between revival meetings, and he knew what I was doing. I was declaring a thing so before it was so. I don't mind telling you, I was a little shaken. I had no job, no income. I was living by faith on the campgrounds. The Lord had been providing. It was a holy moment. Everyone there knew what I was doing. Brother Beasley stood up and commented, "brothers and sisters, we have to be desperate to do what Lynn has just done. Don't try it unless you've heard from the Lord." And he sat down. That made it even more difficult for me, but I knew I had heard the Lord's voice this afternoon. It couldn't have been clearer over the telephone. So I stood in faith for the next two weeks.

And was on the plane headed for the Holy Land!

(to be continued.)

The Gift of Faith Continuation: