Combined here are two chapters that truly reveal the heart and soul of Sister Aimee Semple McPherson.
Introduction
(From Lost & Restored - Centennial Ed., 1990; emphasis hers)
On the day of Pentecost (Acts 2), Peter in explaining the working of the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit seen upon those filled with the Spirit, quotes from the prophet Joel saying: "It shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of My Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy." It was as a direct result of this outpouring of God's Spirit, that the message contained in this booklet was given in vision and prophecy under the inspiration and power of the Holy Spirit.
Ten years ago the Lord found me, a thoughtless little country girl of seventeen. He not only convicted me of sin, saved and baptized me with the Holy Spirit according to Acts 2:4, but He also called me to leave Father and Mother, houses and lands, high school, and future dreams of earthly popularity, and bade me go into all the world and preach the message of salvation, the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and the soon coming of the Lord.
Thus it was that before the age of eighteen I found myself preaching the Gospel, weak in myself, but strong in Him. Never having attended any earthly Bible school, I clung to the promise that I was to take no thought for what I should say, but that He would teach me in the needed hour, also that out of my innermost being should flow rivers of living water, knowing that "This He spake of the Spirit," who had come to dwell within me.
Time and space will not here permit me to relate the numerous times and ways the Lord took this poor, ignorant tongue of mine and spoke through me words I had never learned, without any thought on my part they came rolling out. Vital, forceful, eloquent words poured through my lips not from my head but from my innermost being. While speaking thus with closed eyes and uplifted hands, the tears would stream down my face, and many precious souls flock to the altar seeking salvation and the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and to Jesus belongeth the Glory, for He did it all. Hallelujah.
While in London, England, waiting for the boat in which to embark for China, I was asked by a wealthy man if I would speak to a congregation of people for him that night. Inquiring of the Lord I felt it was His will and told the man that I would go. That evening a beautiful limousine with liveried attendants called for me and I entered with weak and self conscious steps, crying: "O Lord, do help me to do Thy will tonight." On the way I wondered whether the meeting would be held in a cottage or in a mission hall, and as I gazed with wonder upon the beautiful streets and buildings, the car stopped in front of the most imposing and spacious edifice of all. Thinking that perhaps a small room in this immense building was used for a mission hall, I was hurried up the steps and into the side door of the place.
It seemed that I was led through the door and on to the platform before I had time to realize that this building, one big city block square, was packed with people and I was to speak to them at once. I remember vaguely my attendant whispering into my ear that we were late, and then I heard the voice of a man on the platform saying: "Now our sister will speak to us and bring the message." Before I realized it, I was standing dazed and confused before the largest audience I had ever spoken to. The gallery, the pit and the rostrum were all filled; there was no seat for me to sit in, and to add to my confusion just then the footlights flashed into brilliancy all around me, and there I stood, a slip of a girl with my Bible in my trembling hands. I had never prepared a sermon in my life, would not know how to go about it, and not a thought came to me; I just lifted my heart to God and silently prayed:
"O God, if you ever helped me in my life help me now!"
Just then something happened:—the power of God went surging through my body, waves of glory and praise swept through my soul, until I forgot the throng of eager faces that had a moment before seemed to swim before me, forgot the footlights, and the learned men with their long tailed coats, forgot that I was only a child of eighteen, and that many there with their gray hair knew more in a moment than I in the natural could know in a lifetime, and "I was in the Spirit."
All this takes a long time to write, but it happened in a moment, for those who put their trust in God shall never be put to shame. My mouth opened, the Lord took control of my tongue, my lips and vocal organs, and began to speak through me, not in tongues but in English. The Spirit spoke in prophecy, and as He spoke through me I did not know what the next word was to be; certainly the water did flow, not from my head but from the inner most depths of my being, without my having aught to do with it.
As I spoke thus for one hour and a quarter, there did not seem to be a stir in all the vast audience, and as I spoke I saw a vision of a great circle, composed of ten smaller circles as shown on page one [cover]. This big circle seemed so big that its top reached the sky; it was the dispensation of the Holy Spirit, from its opening on the day of Pentecost, to its closing at the coming of the Lord Jesus. The vision was so indelibly stamped upon my mind that I had my husband draw it from my description that all may see as simple and plain as the Lord showed it to me. Before starting to speak, I opened my Bible with closed eyes, trusting God for my text, and my finger was guided to a certain verse; when I opened my eyes and read it this was the verse the Lord had given me:
"That which the palmerworm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten; and that which the cankerworm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten." Joel 1:4.
Just so when I came to the bottom of the circle, and the dark ages were pictured in their horror, my hand automatically turned the page over to the second chapter and placed my finger upon the following verse:
"I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you." Joel 2:25.
I have in these pages written the message as it was given the best I can remember it, so as you read forget the poor earthen vessel, forget the present writer, and give the glory to the Lord for it is He, and not I, who is worthy of praise forever.
I am yours, the least of all saints,
Sister Aimee Semple McPherson
Testimony
The following Preface is from an earlier edition of her Personal Testimony which was circulated in booklet form.
Preface
[emphasis ours]
So overflowing with gratitude unto Him who loved me and washed me in His own blood, was this poor heart of mine, that several years ago, while engaged in tent work in Florida, I wrote a simple and condensed testimony of Christ's dealings in my life. When this little story was ticked off on my Corona typewriter as I sat on the side of my soldier's cot in a small sleeping tent, little did I dream of the world-wide distribution of hundreds of thousands of these booklets. So increasing has been the demand that edition after edition has been gotten out, and still they have sped on and out to the ends of the world.
With the going to press of this new edition the author has taken time to revise and add to this little story a few of the more recent events, and to give a small panorama of the mountain tops and valleys we now discern by looking backward and forward.
Earnestly we pray that every reader may find this blessed Saviour precious to their hearts, that each sinner who reads may be converted and become an active soul-winner for the Lord Jesus, and that each hungry Christian heart may receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit enduing them with power and equipping them for service.
Jesus is coming soon, in the clouds of Glory. Let us be up and doing, souls are slipping down into the darkness of night on every hand, and the Lord is yearning to set each Christian heart so on fire with the power of the Holy Spirit that they shall shine as a city set upon a hill, whose light cannot be hid. Seek Him earnestly today, till you have made Him yours, then turn to these round about you and point them to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world.
EDITORS NOTE [Centennial ed.]: The inspiration which characterizes the writings of Aimee Semple McPherson is again instantly recognized in her own personal testimony which she completed and published in 1928. No attempt has been made to change the wording which so beautifully manifests God's grace in the life of His consecrated servant.
Called from a milk pail, on a Canadian farm, to the preaching of the Gospel from a world pulpit.
How strange the words look, now that they have been set down on paper! Yet, that is exactly what has happened to the writer who gladly bears this humble testimony of praise and thanksgiving that others may know the wondrous dealings of the Lord in her life and make her Saviour theirs.
My earliest childhood recollections are associated with good, old fashioned hymns and Bible stories. Daniel in the lions' den, the three Hebrew children in the fiery furnace, and other Bible stories were so interwoven in my life that by the time I was five years of age, I could have repeated them word for word as they had been told to me.
Some time after entering public school, however, I learned that it was not popular to talk of Jesus Christ. Any other topic of conversation might be dwelt upon at length but the moment one mentioned the name of Jesus or talked of His salvation, they were looked upon with curiosity or ridicule. As years went on, I became an elocutionist, reciting in school and church entertainments, of which we had not a few. Dialogues, charades, and small plays were given by our nearby Methodist church and tickets of admission were sold to the same, "to help poor God pay the mortgage on His church."
Such skillful training in elocution and acting in our small plays were we given in our church work that several of "we girls" contemplated entering the stage-so turned were our silly heads by the applause of the people. Two of these girls followed the urge of the stage, but praise God, He called me to preach the Gospel.
My heart was growing cold and far from God. There came a day when I attended my first moving picture theatre. My conscience troubled me for the first few moments after I had entered the building until my eyes having become accustomed to the gloom, the first person whom I recognized, seated directly across the aisle, was my Sunday-school teacher. If the church people and Sunday-school teachers attended theatres, it must surely be all right for me!
The reading of novels, the attending of worldly entertainments and participation in fancy dress and ice skating carnivals followed one after the other.
Then came my first dance-a High School Ball it was, at my school in the five-mile-distant town. Arrayed in a new ball-gown and slippers, I set forth smiling and radiant without, but secretly troubled within, until I had my first dance. Then my conscience troubled me no more for the first partner I ever had on a ball-room floor in my life was the young Presbyterian minister-how could there be any harm in dancing?
About this time there was introduced into our High School a book called "Physical Geography" which set forth theories regarding the formation of the earth, stars and moon that would ignore the hand of God in creation and explain all scientifically. It dealt also with the process of evolution and explained to us that man was formed from animal life, etc., so plausibly that I began to lose faith in the God of whom my minister spoke as a myth and an influence who was intangible, unreal and whose Word was not infallible. Thus it was that at the early age of seventeen, believing that if the Bible were capable of telling one lie, it could readily tell more, I became practically an infidel.
However, I was not satisfied with my conclusions, and not at all happy. At times I was overwhelmed with disturbing doubts and one night, while being beaten by such a storm, I went into my room, determined to settle the question once and for all in my own mind.
I kneeled at my open window. As I looked out upon the white night, clad in a soft mantle of snow, the whole floor of heaven seemed ablaze with stars; just outside my window the apple trees were encrusted in ice, shimmering like diamonds in the night. High above them stretched the glorious Milky Way—and yonder sailing resplendent through the heavens, like a great silver ship of state, arose the silver disk of the moon. Surely, surely the mighty hand of a great Creator must be behind them all somewhere! Somehow they looked too wonderful to have been placed there accidentally by the whirling motion of the sun which had thrown them off from itself, as our school books declared. Had I not read of the great solar system, and of the wondrous way in which each star rotated and revolved on its own axis without friction or confusion? Suddenly I reached out my arms toward the resplendent heavens and cried: "O God-if there be a God-reveal yourself to me." When an unbeliever prays that prayer sincerely, God always answers.
My prayer was answered within forty-eight hours.
The next afternoon father called for me with the sleigh. As we rode down the main street on our way out of town, I noticed a sign over a big storeroom announcing that "Revival services" were being held within.
Turning to father, I remarked: "Let's go in there some time. I hear they have a great time, speak out in services and do all kinds of things."
"We'll drop in tonight on our way to the town hall," father answered.
He was to bring me in that night to a rehearsal of a benefit performance to which I had contributed a skit, "written and directed by Miss Aimee Kennedy, who also plays the leading role."
So, on our way to the rehearsal we "dropped" into the revival. I was hunting what amusement the services might provide me and was little prepared for the arrows of conviction which were already aimed at my heart.
Sure enough the people said "Amen" and "Hallelujah" and I tried to smile, but when a tall young evangelist, Robert Semple by name, arose to his feet on the platform and opened the Word of God to preach, all frivolity died from my heart and face. There is one thing about a Pentecostal meeting; you cannot be long in attendance without having learned at least one thing about the Bible and that is that there is a second chapter to the book of Acts. I learned it in my first meeting. The speaker took as his text the 38th verse "Repent, and be baptized every one of you for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call." He talked as though he really believed the whole Word of God and declared that Jesus was the same yesterday, today and forever. His message upon "Repentance" and a "Born again experience" a life free from the world of sin, pierced my heart with conviction. When he spoke of the baptism of the Holy Spirit coming upon the believer today in the identical manner in which the 120 were filled in Acts 2:4, declaring that he had received this self-same experience, the hand of the Lord laid hold upon me. Suddenly in the midst of his sermon he spoke a few sentences in other tongues as the Spirit gave him utterance. To me it was the voice of God, "the sign to the unbeliever."
"Let's go daddy, quickly," I whispered, perturbed. How I ever got through the rehearsal that night I never was able to tell.
Then for three days I battled with such a conviction as I believe few have known.
At the end of that three days, I was driving home from High School. 'Twas a lonely country road, the woods stripped of their leaves and laden with snow stood bleak and gaunt on one side, the remains of last season's corn fields the other-even now I can visualize the scene. At last the burden was more than I could bear, and throwing up my hands I cried aloud: "Lord, God—be merciful to me, a sinner." Immediately my burden was gone; the glory of God shone round about me; I had been born again. I was a new creature in Christ Jesus; old things had passed away, all things had become new; glory and joy swelled up in my heart and overflowed in praise from my lips, tears flowed down my cheeks and involuntarily I began to sing: "Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to Thee. Take my lips and let them sing always only for my King." Gone, of course, was the worldly song. "Take my hands and let them move, at the impulse of Thy love," therefore, there was no more worldly instrumental music to be played. "Take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee." Gone was the dance hall and all that it represented.
A new day had dawned, my feet were set upon a new pathway, road that led from earth to glory, through a land brimful with service. I seemed to be living in a new world, with new desires, new thoughts and a new perspective of life. The Bible was under my pillow in the place where the novel used to be. I could truly say the things that I once loved I now hated, and the things which I once hated I now loved.
Baptism of The Holy Spirit
As I continued to attend the services in the little Mission, I learned that there was more, yes, oceans more ahead for me. The latter rain was falling on the earth. The Lord was baptizing His saints with the Holy Ghost and fire just as He did on the day of Pentecost and I became a diligent seeker for this gift, which my Bible told me would endue me with power for service.
So intensely hungry for this baptism of power, so engrossed in seeking the face of the Lord I became, that upon several occasions I "skipped school" to attend cottage prayer-meetings and wait upon Him.
Reports as to my having attended the little Mission and as to having neglected my school, reached my parents' ears, coupled with several criticisms of the meetings. The very people who had lauded and encouraged me in my elocutionary, theatre-going, dancing and worldly life, were now greatly alarmed because I was spending my time on my knees praising the Lord, and warned that these people would certainly cast some spell over me if I were not kept out of these meetings. One morning I went in to school on the train because the country roads were completely blocked by one of our Canadian storms. The snow plow on the front of the engine had much difficulty getting through, and as I was late for school, and this might be my last opportunity to attend the tarrying meetings, I decided not to go to school at all that day, but make the most of my time seeking the baptism. Christian workers began to pray that the Lord would provide some way so that I would not have to go home until I received my baptism, and the Lord answered prayer. Bless His name! The blizzard increased in fury until the railroad track was so blocked that as fast as it was shoveled out the Lord filled it with mountains of snow, until before night all thoughts of getting through while the storm lasted were abandoned.
The following two days I made a business of seeking the Lord, only stopping long enough for a little food and sleep. Friday night I waited before the Lord until midnight. Saturday morning I got up at break of day and going into the parlor of the lady's home where I was staying I kneeled down at a large morris chair in the corner with a real determination in my heart. You ask if I were not afraid of getting a wrong spirit or being hypnotized. There was no such fear in my heart; I trusted my Heavenly Father implicitly, according to Luke 11. I opened my Bible to this passage and clung to it. You remember it tells us that we are to "Ask and ye shall receive; seek and ye shall find;" and assures us that "Every one that asketh receiveth"; also that if we ask for bread He will not give a stone. I was assured that the Lord was not bestowing serpents or scorpions on His blood-washed children when they asked for food. Had He not said that if your earthly fathers know how to bestow good gifts upon their children, how much more would our heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him? So having all confidence that God would be true though every man should lie, I sought in desperate earnest.
After a time I ceased to beg the Lord to baptize me and realized that I was not waiting for Him but that He was waiting for me. He bade me stop asking and begin receiving, stop begging and enter into the gates of praise. So I begin to praise Him and the words: "Glory! Glory to Jesus!" arose from my heart. The more I praised my Lord, the nearer, the dearer, the more inexpressibly real He became. My soul was swept up on clouds of glory into the immediate presence of the Lord. Oh, how I loved Him, how I adored and magnified His worthy name, promising to give Him my life, my love, my all, even as He had given Himself for me.
Each moment I could feel myself drawing nearer, nearer into His presence. My body trembled like a leaf in the wind beneath the heavenly gales of His glory; then slipped to the floor prostrate at His own dear feet.
"Oh, Master, I love Thee" my heart cried out. "Take me, use me, have Thine own way with this poor life of mine; I am only a school girl, dear Lord, I live on a Canadian farm but such as I am I give myself to Thee. Oh, Jesus, let me be an empty vessel for the Master's use made meet, fill me with Thy Spirit, take me up in Thine own hand and pour me out upon the dry and thirsty land!"
As I lay prostrate at His feet, billow after billow of indescribable glory rolled over my being till my poor heart was so full that it could contain no more. My whole soul longed to praise Jesus;—then suddenly, out of my innermost being there begin to flow rivers of praise, spoken in another tongue, as the Spirit gave me utterance. Acts 2:4. I, even I, away down here in 1908, had received the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and He, the Spirit of God, having come in, was announcing His incoming in His own way, even as He had done through the hundred and twenty. Oh, glory! The Word of God was true; the promise was really to them that were afar off even as many as the Lord our God should call.
With the incoming of the Holy Spirit came a love and compassion for souls that melted my heart with longing for service. Fields of wheat, white unto the harvest, swayed on every hand and the Master of the harvest bade me rise, go glean for Him till the sun of life should set. I arose to my feet conscious that the Comforter had come to abide. During my time of seeking His face, I had experienced many blessings and anointings, each of which lifted after a time, but this was entirely different. This was not a passing blessing; this was the coming of "the Blesser Himself."
"Oh, how softly," I whispered to my heart, "how softly we must walk before Him now. With unshod feet, in the presence of the King, we must step lightly lest we grieve and wound the gentle Dove who has taken up His abode, making our body—oh, sacred thought—the Temple of the Holy Ghost."
The next day being Sunday and the storm having passed, we attended the meetings in the Mission. I participated for the first time in the taking of the Lord's Supper. How real and precious the Spirit made to me the shedding of His precious blood, the breaking of that sacred body of Christ for me. Down at the altar I went again, weeping and worshipping at my Saviour's feet. Some of the High School girls and boys, who happened to be in the Mission out of curiosity, could scarcely believe their eyes.
Marriage and Call into the Vineyard
Wonderful, almost unbelievable as it seemed, the call had come from Heaven. Unworthy as I was, the Lord had bidden me to go forth and tell the good news of Salvation, the baptism of the Holy Spirit, the soon-coming of our Lord Jesus from heaven and the preparation of the Bride to meet Him. Hour after hour I would sit at the piano and sing: "I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, Over mountain and plain and sea, I'll say what you want me to say, dear Lord, I'll be what you want me to be."
But from whence was the opportunity to enter Christ's service to arise, where the gateway that opened into the harvest field? The Lord soon answered this question through my marriage to the splendid godly evangelist, Robert Semple, under whose ministry I had been converted. We were married beneath a bower of golden glow on the lawn of the farmhouse and were soon on our way to the depot with white ribbons flying from the whip. All of life, with its joys, its sorrows, its mountain peaks, its darkened valleys, its hopes and promises, all lay just ahead. And into this new day of service for Christ we went together, hand in hand. Surely God had sent him to set my feet in the pathway and to start me in His service. Had I known that in two short years I would have stood alone upon that pathway—a widow and a mother-I would still have said "yes" to God and "yes" to Robert and ridden away with those gay white ribbons streaming.
My husband had charge of a mission in Stratford, Ont. Later we were called to London to open a mission as there was none in that city; then to Chicago, Finley, Ohio; and other points of service. During these months I was taught my first lessons in the faith life, taking neither price nor script for our journey. We went into all the world to preach the Gospel firmly believing that we should take no thought for what we should eat, or what we should drink, or what we should put on, for the Lord knew that we had need of these things. Splendid months of discipline and heart preparation they were for the work that was to come. In Chicago the Lord gave me, for the first time, the gift of interpretation; He also gave me my first lessons as to taking the Lord as my Great Physician.
Miraculous and Instantaneous Healing of a Broken Ankle
While at Finley, Ohio, for two weeks, we prayed night and day for those seeking baptism, and the Lord met every one. At times the whole floor in front of the altar was covered by the slain of the Lord. Amongst those seeking the baptism of the Spirit was a minister and a doctor of that city. One evening, being tired in body, from the long hours at the altar, I went upstairs to lie down, during the tarrying meeting. I had hardly gotten settled down to rest, when I heard the big bass voice of the minister shouting, "Glory! Glory! Glory!" and I bounded off the couch to go and see if he was receiving the Holy Spirit, rejoicing that our prayers were being answered.
In running swiftly down the long flight of stairs, I tripped and, my ankle bending back under me, fell from the middle of the stairs all the rest of the way to the bottom. I could hear the bones crunch under me as I fell. Up to this time, having always enjoyed the best of health, I had never had occasion to take the Lord as my own personal Healer, although I had witnessed many wonderful healings. Now as the saints gathered about me and prayed, I must confess that my mind was more occupied with the pain and excruciating agony of my broken foot than with the Lord as my Healer. Consequently I was not healed that night.
The doctor examined my foot and said the bone was not only cracked, but that in wrenching my foot backwards in my fall, I had completely severed four of the ligaments of my foot that move the toes.
As soon as the swelling had been reduced sufficiently to permit a plaster of paris cast to be put on, Dr. Harrison and his son, who was also a practicing physician of that city, set the bone and drew the bent foot back into place, and put on a heavy cast. The doctor explained to me that the torn cords could not grow together, and that my ankle would therefore always be stiff, but by keeping the plaster cast on for four weeks, till thoroughly healed, my foot would be straight. They both warned me not to touch my foot to the floor, or put any weight upon it. A pair of crutches were purchased for me, and by their aid I went hobbling to the train that was to take us back to Chicago.
The afternoon we arrived, I attended the service in the mission, and rested my aching and feverish foot on the platform in front of me. Every jar on the floor sent a stabbing pain through my foot. Sick with the pain I went to my room, a block away from the hall. While sitting there commiserating with myself over my black and swollen toes, which was all I could see of my foot, a voice spoke to me and said: "If you will wrap the shoe for your broken foot, and take it with you to wear home, and go over to the North Avenue mission to Bro. Durham, and ask him to lay hands on your foot, I will heal it."
The idea of wrapping up a shoe, which was tight-fitting, even with my foot in a normal condition, struck me so humorously that I laughed the thought away; but again and yet again came the voice: "Wrap up your shoe to wear home, take it with you as you go to be prayed for, and I will heal you."
The Word says: "My sheep hear my voice." And I, knowing His voice, at last reached for my crutches, and hobbled over to my other shoe, wrapped it up, and, with it tucked under my arm, started clumsily down the winding staircase to go to the mission for prayers.
On the way over, my crutch slipped through a hole in the wooden sidewalk, and, as my toes struck the hard boards, the perspiration stood in beads upon me from the excruciating pain. As I reached the foot of the steps to the mission, I was trembling and white with pain. I felt unequal to climbing the stairs on my crutches, so two of the brothers put me on a chair and carried me up. There were twelve in the room beside myself. I told them just what the Lord had told me, and all but one began to pray. The one who did not pray was an infidel, a brother of our pastor.
As the pastor was walking up and down the room calling on the Lord, he suddenly stopped and, laying his hands on my ankle, he prayed and said: "In the Name of Jesus, receive your healing."
I suddenly felt as if a shock of electricity had struck my foot, and flowed through my whole body, causing me to shake and tremble under the power of God. Instantly my foot was perfectly healed. The blackness was gone, the parted ligaments were knitted together, and the bone was made whole. Glory to Jesus! I was healed.
Trembling with excitement and joy, it took me fully five minutes, with help, to remove the plaster of paris cast.
The infidel who was present said: "Don't be foolish; leave it on, you will only have to pay a doctor three dollars to replace the cast." But, glory to Jesus! I was healed. At last the heavy plaster cast was removed, the absorbent cotton came off, my stockings on, also the tight-fitting shoe, which fitted perfectly now, and I leaped to my feet and danced for joy on the healed foot. Everyone in the room was filled with the Spirit and we all rejoiced together. Hallelujah!
Suddenly remembering that my husband would be coming on the next elevated train, I ran down the stairs, my crutches left behind, ran all the way to the station, and told the wonderful news. My ankle was as strong as ever.
Call to Foreign Fields
Shortly after my return to Chicago, and the miraculous healing of my ankle, just related, my husband and myself were made to realize in a very definite way that the time had come for us to obey the call to foreign fields, which had been coming stronger and stronger for some time. Farewelling in Chicago, we went to Canada, holding revival meetings in different towns and cities in Ontario. After the last meeting was closed in Toronto, where many were baptized in the Spirit, we boarded the train for St. Johns, N.B., and, as the train pulled out of the Union Depot, we heard the sweet voices of the saints singing, "God be with you till we meet again." Leaving St. Johns, we set sail for Liverpool, England; from there we went to the Belfast mission.
In Belfast, Ireland, the Lord sent a wonderful revival. In three weeks over two score were baptized in the Holy Ghost, and all spoke in other tongues. In attending services in London, England, the Lord poured out of His Spirit, saving and baptizing souls. Great hospitality and love were shown us by all the saints.
At last the day of our departure was at hand, and, after a season of rich blessing, the saints stood on the wharf waving and singing, as far as we could see them from the ship, as she gathered speed, to carry us towards our destination, Hong Kong, China.
At last, after weathering a severe typhoon, we saw in the early morning sunrise, the mountain of Hong Kong, and beheld the harbor with its innumerable, busy sampans. We were met by other missionaries and, with beating hearts, gazed with fascination at the field of our future labors. In China we found the Latter Rain to be falling on the earth as well as in America. When Chinese receive the baptism they speak in tongues, just as did the hundred and twenty on the day of Pentecost. The sick are healed and lepers cleansed. Hallelujah!
In China, as never before, I felt the need of the Holy Spirit as a Comforter. I went through billows and oceans of sorrow, and even in the valley and shadow of death, when my dearest and nearest was laid to sleep in Jesus, I found the Comforter to be very real and near to me in sorrow's darkest hour.
The Death of My Husband
At this time my husband seemed drawn nearer and nearer to the Lord each day, and spent hours in prayer, day and night. He really travailed in spirit for the Chinese, and often said that he felt he was going to rise to meet the Lord from China, carrying precious Chinese souls in his arms to Jesus. The intense heat and unsanitary condition of the country in which we dwelt began to tell upon our health. Malaria was raging, and to go out even for five minutes at noonday without a cork helmet and heavy parasol meant almost certain death. We were away down the coast at Macao, when my husband was taken seriously ill, and was carried in a very weak condition back to Hong Kong and up the mountain to an English hospital, built especially for missionaries, where care was given free of charge. A well-worn Bible, the one from which he preached me under conviction, explained the way of salvation, and the Baptism of the Spirit, was my husband's constant companion in the week that ensued. Each day he grew weaker, and, although I was confident the Lord would heal him, he felt that his work was ended, that "he had fought a good fight and finished his course, that henceforth there was laid up for him a crown of righteousness."
One evening, at the end of the week, the doctor gave me special permission to sit with my husband, and, as my heart leaped with joy at the prospect, little did I dream the reason for this special kindness. As I sat there by his bedside a great lump in my throat seemed to be choking me as I gazed at the thin, pale face so changed in these few days; but feeling that I must be brave and encouraging, I tried in a pitiful way to talk cheerfully of the soon coming of the little one we had both planned and longed for so long. As we were talking thus, I heard the click of the white-robed nurse's heels as she came down the long ward to tell me it was time for me to go back to my own ward. Oh, I shall never forget the sweet smile that lit up his countenance; yet some way a terrible premonition of some sorrow befalling me, an idea vague and unformed, seized upon my heart, and, as I clung to the white enameled bar at the foot of his bed, I heard the last words he ever spoke to me: “Good-night, dear; I will see you in the morning." And I am sure he will.
I returned to the women's ward with an uneasy feeling hard to describe, and lay for hours staring out into the darkness, listening to the irregular breathing of the other patients about me.
At midnight I sat up in bed with a start. Out of the window at the foot of my bed I could see across the great square court into the window, which I knew to be beside my husband's bed. There I saw a bright light burning. A great terror seized upon my soul, as I heard the quick step of the night nurse coming along the corridor connecting the two wards. Straight to my bed she came, and with a tense catch in her voice, she told me to slip on my kimono and slippers and hurry to the next ward.
"Come quickly! He is sinking fast," were the words that sounded in my ears like a death knell, as we hurried down the long passage-to what? Death? Oh, surely not; it couldn't be, I reasoned. I had never seen anyone die. I was not yet twenty years old, and was on the opposite side of the globe from those who had always shielded and protected me from every wind that blew. Dying? Impossible! Why, what of the little one that was to come? All these thoughts raced like lightning through my mind. I was as one dazed.
Then, as I stood by his bed, and saw that, unconscious as he was, the light of the glory world illuminated his face, I sank down in a heap at the side of the bed and clung to his cold hand. Then, at that moment, when all the world seemed to be crumbling and slipping from beneath my feet, the Comforter, the Blessed Holy Spirit, whom Jesus had sent, rose up within me and revealed Jesus in such a precious way, made the will of God so sweet, showed the prepared mansions so real, that there, by the death-bed of Robert Semple, from whom I had never dreamed of parting, the Blessed Holy Spirit, the Comforter, enabled me to say: "Glory to Jesus! The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!"
When I felt the doctor shaking me by the shoulder, I raised my head from the bed, loosened my clasp on the dear, cold hand, and I realized the great need of the Comforter as He sweetly spoke in my ears, "He is not here, he is risen."
O, dear friend, never again say that you have no need of the Comforter, whom Jesus sent. Not only in the hour of rejoicing on the mountain top do you need Him, but also in sorrow's dark hour. Down in the valley and the shadow of death, you, too, need the Comforter. Hallelujah!
Morning after morning of the month that followed I would awaken with a scream as my great loss swept over me, as I thought of the little one who would never see her father; when the Comforter would instantly spring up within me.
Then came the little daughter, a tiny little mite of a thing, but oh, such a comfort! Here again the Comforter was with me. Truly Jesus is a Husband to the widow and a Father to the fatherless. I named the little one Roberta, after her father Robert, who had never seen her. It was in Hong Kong, on the top of the mountain, that my tiny little daughter was born, and when she was six weeks old, I sailed to San Francisco, feeling my first duty was to her, as she could not live in China.
Arriving in America, I was made glad by the report of the wondrous outpouring there. In Chicago, Illinois, we were welcomed by all the saints and were soon again engaged in home mission work.
About a year and a half after this, having been nearly six years in the work, traveling, and putting up with all the hardships of evangelistic life, a great longing for a home of my own came over me.
It was at this time that I married and settled down to furnish a comfortable home. I was like Jonah running away from Ninevah, and enjoyed about as rough a passage when I tried to get out of the evangelistic work and settle down to domestic life. In the flesh, I was weary of having no home or abiding city. We engaged a modern flat, and I settled down to enjoy a comfortable passage from Joppa to Tarshish. All the time I heard the call, clear and distinct as Jonah did, "Preach the Word."
I became lukewarm, then cold in my experience, and discovered that there is no such thing as standing still; that we are either going backward or forward. I was going backward, decidedly. Not but that I loved the Lord. I had the "I sleep, but my heart waketh" experience. The pleasures and cares of this world came crowding in till I discovered I was losing my first love. Then came sickness. Inside of one year I underwent two serious operations. It seemed there was not a sound part left in my body. I had no chance to enjoy my comfortable home, except what little I could see from my pillow.
For a year I grew weaker and weaker. At times, it seemed I would lose my reason. The hand of God was heavy upon me, and His voice was clear and strong, "Now will you go and preach the Word?" It rang continually in my ears. The Lord refused to heal me. When I prayed for deliverance, all the answer I received was: "Now will you go?" At last, when taken off the operating table more dead than alive, vomited up by the whale, I answered the call and said, "Yes, Lord; I'll go."
From that moment I began to improve, and in a few weeks was up and well. Too weak to argue the point, I packed my suitcase and, with my two babies, set out for Canada and home. There I was packed off to a nearby camp-meeting, where I got back to the Lord and the fulness of the Spirit.
(This and other experiences are set forth in detail and as interestingly and clearly as I know how in my new book "In The Service of The King." If you have not read it, I hope you will enjoy it as much as many of our friends say they have.-A.S.M.)
Work in Canada
I was then called to Mount Forest, a little town in the same part of Ontario. In this town there was only one sister who had received the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and was standing for the Latter Rain truths. I began to preach under the anointing of the Spirit, and the little hall was filled. Lawn meetings were held to accommodate the crowds, as it was noised abroad that the Lord was healing the sick.
The town crier, who rang a bell up and down the main street of the town, advertising the theatres and ball games, had been afflicted for a year. Various doctors had tried and failed to heal him. He was miraculously healed, and advertised his healing about town as faithfully as he used to advertise theatres and ball games. The doctor and his old barroom companions were astounded at the miracle God had wrought. Many were baptized in the Spirit, and the curiosity-seekers and earnest people increased in numbers till the Lord led us to purchase a large secondhand tent to accommodate the large crowds.
My husband was with me for a time now, saw me preaching under the mighty anointing of the Holy Spirit and declared he would not have me disobey God by leaving the work again.
But his interests were deeply rooted in the business world and he felt he would not like to give up his activities to accompany me. So I went on preaching alone, while he returned to his business.
We Dwell in Tents For Two Years
My next revival campaign was held in Providence, R.I. After much earnest prayer and sacrifice I was enabled to purchase a new tent which was made by a tent concern of that city. Through some delay the tent was not ready for delivery upon the announced dates for the opening of the campaign and the company gave us an old weather-worn tent for use during the time of its completion. Being new in the mysteries of tent location and erection, we knew no better than to pitch it on the top of a hill overlooking the river. The result was that one night, as the wind swept in from the bay, I was awakened by a most terrifying ripping, crashing sound. Springing up from the soldier's cot in my small sleeping tent, I discovered the large tabernacle lying on the ground. Rising early the next morning, I went to work with heavy thread and needles and after hours of toiling in the bright sun, the tent was again up, just in time for me to wash and dress and conduct the afternoon meeting.
But in a couple of days, the tent was again leveled to the ground by the strong wind which blew each night. Again I toiled and sewed with bleeding fingers under the sun, and again the tent was up. The fourth time the tent went down I was left to erect it alone but the Catholic neighbors who had heretofore stood aloof came to my assistance. The next time, however, it was torn beyond repair. What should I do? It seemed as though Satan were working from every angle to discourage me. To "give up" never entered my head. Then a happy thought came to me and with the aid of a little boy about twelve years of age, I took down all of our small sleeping tents-ten in number-carried and placed them end to end, drove the stakes with a sledge hammer while he held them for me, and erected the tents. From under the wrecked canvas of the main tent we dragged the benches and put them in their places, strung the electric wires and were ready for the night meeting in a tent whose exact dimensions were 10X120-if you can imagine such a tent. But the tent was full, praise the Lord, and I took for my text: "The ax did swim."
I relate these incidents in passing that prospective evangelists, who gaze upon our work at beautiful Angelus Temple today, may be encouraged to start at the bottom, weather the gales and sail through troubled seas with colors flying. Then came a tent campaign in Onset Bay, Cape Cod, and a glorious revival in Corona, Long Island, wherein Pastor W. K. Bouton, of the Free Gospel Church, and many scores of his congregation received the Pentecostal baptism of the Holy Spirit, Acts 2:4. Also many wonderful healings were wrought by Jesus. One poor cripple, paralyzed, and hopelessly deformed, was carried to the church in a cab, and, in answer to prayer, she left her crutches and, being healed, walked up and down praising God. When, upon her return home, her non-believing mother saw her walking into the house without crutches, she fell on her knees on the sidewalk and praised God. Others were healed of ear and eye trouble. So it is that the Scripture is literally fulfilled which says: "These signs shall follow them that believe." Praise God!
Next we sailed to Jacksonville, Fla., in whose sunny climate we would be enabled to use our tents throughout the winter months.
In Corona, Long Island, God had so wonderfully moved in saving, baptizing and healing power, that the grateful people had given us a splendid offering with which we were enabled to ship our camping paraphernalia, buy lumber for new seats, install electric lights, advertise, etc. The day before the meeting opened, however, I had but 5 cents left. A colored lady begged that and asked in addition clothing for her poor children. I gave her the nickel and told her we were expecting a box of clothing to arrive for the poor from the church where I had been holding meetings in Corona. After she had thanked me and taken her departure, an automobile load of workers arrived from Atlanta, GA., stating that they had come to attend the meeting and that they were very hungry. A broad hint that I should hurry and prepare the supper.
I did not tell them that I had run short of funds and that the cupboard shelves (I mean the packing boxes used for a cupboard) were empty. Passing into my little tent, I kneeled upon the ground, which was my only floor for two years, and rolled my burdens on the Lord. I told Him that if it were His will to send some supper, we would be very grateful; if not, then we would be pleased to fast and pray for the success of the campaign. I arose from my knees and went back to the tabernacle to join the guests. Just at that moment I heard a big voice saying: "Whoa there-back up!" "Twas an expressman who carried in the promised box of clothing from Long Island. When I opened it, joyously remembering that I could now supply the poor colored sister, I found cans of corn, peas, salmon, tomatoes, a box of rolled oats, sugar, condensed milk, salt, crackers, in fact almost everything one could think of which could possibly be needed for supper, breakfast and dinner the next day until time for the opening of the evening meeting. Hallelujah! He who had fed Elijah, had sent our supper from the other side of New York City clear to Jacksonville, Fla., and had it there just-as-the-clock-struck-six.
In Tampa, Durant, St. Petersburg, Miami, Key West, and Orlando, Fla., we conducted tent campaigns during the two winters, then up the coast to Long Branch, N.J., Huntington, Long Island, Wooster, Mass., Hyde Park, Boston, Washburn, Me., Concord, N.H., Savannah, Ga., Pulaski and Roanoke, Va., Hartford, Conn., New York City and New Rochelle, N.Y., and Philadelphia, Pa. We were led by the hand of the Lord and He graciously poured out His Spirit upon us, bringing many hundreds into the Kingdom and baptizing them with the Holy Ghost and with fire. To this day we are constantly meeting Christian workers who gave their hearts to the Lord or received the enduement of power from on high in these years of strenuous camping and bearing the cross alone.
I sometimes look back upon those years with amazement and wonder just how the Lord enabled me to go into new cities without even an invitation or any earthly backing, search out a piece of vacant land, erect our tabernacle, swing the sledge hammer, drive the stakes, tie the ropes, build the seats, erect the platform, distribute hand bills on the streets and paste posters in the windows, hold several street meetings each day and conduct two or three tent services daily, play the piano and lead my own singing between each testimony, lead in prayer, preach the Gospel, give the altar call, pray for the converts, dismiss them, put out the lights, put the babies to bed and cook our own late supper over the camp fire. But glory be to God, the Lord had raised me from the door of death and bidden me take up my cross and declare His message, and I meant to go through,-live or die, sink or swim through sunlight or shade.
Transcontinental Auto Tour to California
Some time previous to the nation-wide camp-meeting conducted in our large tent in Philadelphia, Pa., the Lord had laid it upon my heart to drive my automobile from New York to Los Angeles preaching the Gospel, distributing tracts and witnessing for Christ as we went. It was in New Rochelle, N.Y., however, where in the midst of the campaign, my precious daughter, Roberta Star, was stricken with influenza which quickly developed into double pneumonia, bringing her to the point of death, that the Lord made His dealing and leadings to California most definite.
With an aching heart, I had returned from that afternoon service, to our cold and comfortless furnished room to be met with the words: "Roberta is unconscious and sinking very fast." Taking one look at her flushed little face, I ran into my own room, fell upon my knees and began to weep, crying:
"Oh, Lord, you took Robert-but, please, please don't take Roberta. Oh, Lord, I haven't much else and I do need her so much."
"Do not cry. Your little girl will live and not die, and moreover, I will give you a bungalow for her in sunny California where your little ones can go to school and experience the joys of real home life, instead of enduring sacrifices and hardships and being knocked about the country constantly from place to place."
It did not enter my mind to doubt the Lord; He had spoken, my burden was lifted. Rising from my knees I entered the room in which my little daughter lay; two brethren had prayed for her and she was better. Kneeling by her side I buried my face in the pillow, close to her hot cheeks, she was now conscious and I said:
"Oh, Roberta, the Lord has spoken to Mother. You're going to get better, darling, and what do you think! The Lord is going to give us a lovely bungalow in California where you can go to school."
Opening her little eyes wider, she asked in a thin, wavery voice: "Mama! Mama, do you s'pose I could have a canary bird, too?" "Oh, I am sure you could, darling," I replied.
"And Mama, do you s'pose I could have some rosebushes and a garden?" asked my little son, Rolf.
"Yes, yes, my darlings, I am sure that you could," I replied in the affirmative. I was very happy and my faith was very big at that time. But later after we had set out on our transcontinental trip and, having driven many hundreds of miles, my little ones when tired would comfort one another with the words:
"Cheer up, brother; Cheer up, sister, we's going to have a bungalow when we gets to California," the devil would assail me with doubts, saying: "Now who do you think is going to give you a bungalow in California, you do not know one person there," but I would answer: "Get thee behind me, Satan," and cling to the steering wheel the tighter.
'Twas a long and seemingly endless road. I drove mile by mile the winding road from coast to coast accompanied by my family, a stenographer and a host of angels who guarded us on the way. Meetings were held in Tulsa, Okla., thousands of tracts and pieces of Gospel literature were given out en route and at last we reached Los Angeles. Here meetings were soon under way and the Lord poured out His Spirit in copious showers from on high. The buildings soon grew too small and Clunes Auditorium, seating 3500, was engaged for the larger meetings.
One evening, just before I arose to preach, a young woman sprang to her feet in the audience, crying: "Excuse me, please, but I just must say a word. I am only a working girl but I own four lots of land. The Lord has spoken to me that I am to give one of these lots to Mrs. McPherson that on it she may build a little bungalow for her babies."
"Why praise the Lord—how wonderful!" "I'll dig the cellar for you," volunteered a stalwart man, rising in the congregation. "Yes, an' I'll help yez," came the voice of an Irishman from another part of the building. "I'll put in the foundation," volunteered another. "I'm a lather and plasterer. I'll give my services free" offered another. "I'll furnish the dining room," said a kindly-faced man from over there.
"I have not much to offer when compared with these people," said a timid little voice from the rear of the hall, "but I have the sweetest-singing little canary bird that you ever heard. I'll give that for the little girl."
"And I have four dozen beautiful rose bushes, I'll give those," volunteered another dear sister. Oh, glory, glory. The tears were rolling down my cheeks, tears of thanksgiving and praise. Shall the Lord not perform that which He has promised? Ah, yes, He will do even exceeding abundantly above all that could be asked or thought. Just three months from the day the lot was promised, the house was up and my darling babies living in it. Just across the street from this little home, which we named "The House That God Built" long before its erection, there was a handsome school. Oh, yes, the Lord does things up right when He leads His little ones, praise His name.
With lighter, happier hearts we now took up our transcontinental journeyings, from San Francisco to Tulsa, Chicago, New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., Dayton, Ohio; Akron, O.; Winnipeg, Alberta, Montreal, Canada; St. Louis, Mo.; Dallas, Tex.; Denver, Colo.; etc., conducting evangelistic campaigns in the largest auditoriums from shore to shore. These auditoriums have ranged in seating capacity from 3,000 to 16,000. Sinners and back-sliders have come trooping home to Jesus' feet, first by scores, then by hundreds, and then by thousands, as we seek to hide away behind the cross, lifting the Saviour up till the thronging multitudes shall lift their eyes and see "no man save Jesus only."
Multitudes of sick men and women and children have been brought to the meetings by those who cast them down at Jesus' feet, beseeching that His healing power should make them whole, even as He touched the suffering in the days of yore. In answer to believing prayer we have seen the blind receive their sight; deaf and dumb spirits cast out so that the people both spake and heard; the lame have been made to walk; tumors, cancers and goiters have melted like snow before the sun. Tears have been dried and burdens lifted by the tender Saviour who walked the shores of Galilee. Many there are who know and preach this Christ as "The Great I was"; we have learned to know and preach Him as "The Great I am", who is the same yesterday, today and forever.
THE CALL TO BUILD A HOUSE UNTO THE LORD
Returning to the "little grey home in the west" between each series of campaigns, to mother my babies and care for my publishing work, I often wondered just why the Lord had set the little home down in this far-off part of the country making the homing journeys each so very long. Then it was that gently the Lord began to bear the message to my heart that the coming to California had had a deeper underlying purpose in His blessed will than that of which I had yet dreamed. He reminded me of a text which He had given me from which to preach on my arrival in Los Angeles, namely: "Shout, for the Lord hath given you the city." Then He bade me build a house unto the Lord—erect a temple as a base for evangelistic work and a spiritual home whereunto thousands might flow for salvation, the sick might come for healing, and the hungry believers might receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit before returning unto their own special fields of labor with blazing torches with which to kindle the flame upon cold altars.
I was definitely led to an especially beautiful property with a circular frontage, facing the entrance of peaceful Echo Park. Surely no other piece of land or other location could have been so ideally located-near the center of the city-adjacent to the principal car lines, yet so restfully quiet and apart. The placid lake, the shady trees, the fountain, also the picnic tables, stoves, rest rooms, made the park an ideal place for our congregations to spend the hours between the services in meditation and prayer, as well as providing every possible comfort and convenience for the many sick and afflicted who come for blessing and the healing touch of the Great Physician.
Real Estate agents declared that it was not for sale. We knew immediately that God had been reserving it for us. Sure enough a “for sale” sign was set up within a few days by the rich owner who had suddenly decided she was "land poor."
There was erected what has become one of the greatest centers of revivalism in the world, beautiful Angelus Temple, the great Bible School, the Administration building, a wonderfully appointed book and publication building. Now we even have our own Foursquare Summer Camp and winter camp.
Our gospel has been flung to the ends of the earth under the label of the Foursquare Gospel. That name came to me some years ago while I was preaching in Oakland, and it since certainly has become famous.
It is the old gospel, the true gospel, the Word of God. The four phases of the Foursquare Gospel are: Jesus Christ, the Saviour; Jesus Christ, the Baptizer with the Holy Spirit; Jesus Christ, the Great Physician; and Jesus Christ, the Coming King.
In California, Oregon, Washington, Illinois, Texas, New York, Arizona, Iowa, in fact, in nearly every state in the Union and in Canada and in the British Isles and on the Continent. Hundreds of thousands of people everywhere now worship under the Foursquare banner. This last year has left church people of other denominations, and non-church goers, open mouthed in wonder at the avalanche of churches and people into the Foursquare fold.
Indeed God is blessing us mightily and we are all working at top speed to prepare for His coming. We thank Him for His goodness this year, and we pray that His word may lighten every nook and corner of the universe shortly. Missionaries are going out from our work to all continents and souls are being reaped.
So, the work goes on; the Lord takes care of His children. It's -THE FOURSQUARE GOSPEL AROUND THE WORLD.
(From Lost & Restored - Centennial Ed., 1990)
Fair use for research and not distribution.