In Straight Paths

by Georgia McCain

  * * * * *

  The summer had been unusually hot and dry even for Kansas. The supply of water was getting dangerously low. No watering of lawns or gardens was permitted. A fire would be disastrous to the little town. Cattle and stock were needing water badly. Oh, if it would only rain! Just a few clouds, now and then, filled the sky but the sun soon broke through with its blistering heat. This was the weather pattern day after day. One hot, windy day, a spark, presumably from the railroad, started a flame which ignited the roof of the farthest building on Main Street. How rapidly the fire spread from roof to roof down the business district. Billows of smoke and intense heat enveloped the street.

  "Trusler, your store's next!" cried one of the business men whose hands were burned and whose face was blackened with soot. "Hadn't we better carry out some of your stock?"

  By this time, Carrie was in the store walking up and down the aisles, face and hands lifted heavenward pleading the blood and quoting Scripture. She was the one giving the orders.

  "No!" she said with a tear-stained face and lifted hands, "don't touch any of the stock. God is going to give the deliverance." And on she paced pleading and praying.

  "Trusler, your wife's gone crazy! We're going to try to save a few things," cried one of the clerks. The fire was sweeping with intensity and all seemed lost. Then a miracle happened. At the edge of the roof of the Trusler building, the wind changed and the fire receded; a few sparks landed on the roof but died. The flames soon were quenched and the fire was a thing of the past. The store and all of its contents were spared, save stock that was taken out damaged by water and chemicals.

  People met in little groups to discuss the recent fire and most of all the miraculous deliverance. The loss to the business district was tremendous, but "The Leader," Trusler's store, was open for business as usual.

  "Mrs. Trusler--we called her crazy, but she's a woman who knows God! W. Trusler is a fortunate man," was the consensus of opinion.

  (This account taken from Lillian M. Knapp's book, A Walk to Glory. Used by permission.)

  Carrie and Will Trusler were the parents of two daughters, Golden and Geraldine. Geraldine married Robb French. She and her husband, both very dear friends of the author, together with Rev. and Mrs. James Zuch, were the founders of Hobe Sound Camp in Hobe Sound, Florida. We have visited and been refreshed by this old-fashioned camp meeting for twenty-seven consecutive years. We have heard the other sister, Golden, sing at this camp and her songs were used of God to bless hundreds, perhaps thousands of her listeners. Thank God for the memories we have of these old-fashioned saints of God. Author

  For Seventeen Years He Testified That God Had Promised To Heal Him

  My dad's mother died when he was only eight years old and he was reared by his mother's mother and aunts and uncles. His grandmother was a Christian, but my dad grew up without getting saved.

  After he got older, he worked in a coal mine in Pennsylvania, mining coal with a pick and shovel along with his uncle. One day, they were mining in a place that was about three or four feet high, when a rock fell and crushed my dad's leg. He was taken to the hospital where he was told the bone in his leg was splintered into pieces like a toothpick. The doctor said his leg would have to be amputated. While he was in the hospital, the Lord began to talk to him and told him if he would give his life to Him that He would heal him. My dad was a chain smoker and smoked one cigarette after another. He would smoke them down to where they would burn his fingers. As he lay there in the hospital smoking, the doctor came in to make arrangements to amputate his leg. My dad informed him that he would not have his leg taken off. The doctor contended with him that if he did not agree to the amputation that gangrene would set in and he would lose his life. Nevertheless, Dad held his ground and refused to let them take off his leg, so they put it in a cast that covered most of his body. I believe the cast was left on for six months and when it was removed, his leg that had been shattered was two inches shorter than the other. He had to use crutches to walk, and during this time he had to walk a mile to work in the snow.

  One Sunday night, Dad attended a church service in a Nazarene church. After going home that night, deep conviction settled down upon him as God began dealing with his heart. He walked back to church and got the pastor out of bed to help him pray, and he was gloriously saved. When he went out the door of the church that night, he took his cigarettes out of his pocket, and gave them a pitch and never smoked another. Praise God! Later my dad was sanctified wholly.

  For seventeen years, Dad testified to people that God had promised to heal him if he would serve Him. One night in a revival service, God spoke to him and told him to get anointed for healing. He knelt at the altar and as soon as the oil touched his head, he felt his leg starting to grow. He got up from the altar, threw his cane away and ran out and around the church, for God had truly healed him. There were lots of people at church that night and not a one could stay in his seat. They were all up shouting and praising the Lord, even to the little children. Praise the Lord forever!

  David Poorman

  How The Lord Understood a Family's Need

  (A True Christmas Story)

  The days following the first World War were very difficult days for those of us living in the Province of Alberta, Canada, for it was then that the flu raged across the country. This particular winter was a very cold one and because of the suffering of the people, it was a very hard one. The time came when the authorities thought it best to close the schools and churches, as they wanted to bring the epidemic under control. When the churches were closed, my father, being a preacher, was without salary; and we were left to get along the best we could. Every morning, he would get us around him for family prayers and would read the 91st Psalm, claiming the 7th and 10th verses to cover his family. Verse 7-- "A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee." Verse 10-- "There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling." Our faith in God was increased because of his earnestly bringing his family to the Lord and pleading that this terrible plague would not come nigh our dwelling. None of us came down with the flu during this terrible scourge.

  When the doctor went out on his trips into the country to visit the sick folks, he would come by and pick up my father. Father would go along with him and take care of the chores that others could not do--bring in the water from the pump, cut the wood, carry coal, and do other little things that would help the sick--while the doctor took care of his patients. Many times everyone in a family would be sick and down in bed.

  The cold, wintry days came and went. Christmas time drew near. With six children in the family and with no money coming in, there was a good bit of speculation and talk as to what this Christmas would bring us.

  After supper, one evening when we gathered around for family prayers, Father said, "We will not be able to have Christmas this year. We must be fair with you children and let you know how things are." There was a hesitancy in his voice and a look of sadness on his face as he spoke.

  We had noticed that our parents were strangely quiet and did not seem to join in with the "Christmas Spirit" which naturally builds up in a family during those days prior to Christmas. But we knew they were preoccupied with heavy burdens because of the many things that were happening, and too there was a great deal of uncertainty about Christmas as far as they were concerned. Nevertheless, we children were happy and joyous.

  During these times when one went to buy sugar, he had to purchase certain amounts of oatmeal, rice, flour, etc., in order to be able to purchase a certain amount of sugar. A good supply of oatmeal, rice, flour, etc. found its way into our pantry, being given to us by friends and neighbors, but no sugar. Nobody was giving any sugar away. My mother became very efficient in making things out of these staples and whipping up some desserts. She did the best she could with what she had to work with. But now it was Christmas time and she needed some other things--things
that we did not have.

  The day before Christmas there was a heavy snow--a crisp, frosty, dry snow. We went out and found a Christmas tree. We then popped corn and hung strings of corn on the tree. How delighted we were to be able to do that much!

  On Christmas Eve we all gathered around for family prayers as usual. The Christmas Story was read to us out of the Bible. At the close, Father paused a minute and said, "Now, children, we can't have Christmas this year like we have had it other years, because there is no money. We can't fill the stockings. We will be satisfied to get along and maybe later we can have our celebration."

  We all got down to pray. Father had tried to gently warn us before, but it had not penetrated. As we prayed, we earnestly petitioned our Heavenly Father to help us so that we could "have a Christmas."

  When we arose from our knees, we pled with our father to let us hang up our stockings in the place where we always had--on our coat hooks. He finally agreed, very weakly, to let us do it, seeing how our hearts were set upon it. However, he warned us firmly not to expect anything in them. There was nothing to put in them, he explained, and nothing with which to buy things that were needed for them.

  In spite of his warning, we tripped up to bed and lay down to sleep with the confidence that the Lord Jesus was able to fill our stockings.

  Our parents pulled their chairs up to the little black kitchen stove, and there they sat in gloom and doubt, wondering what was to happen. What could they do? Where could they turn? There were many others in desperate circumstances during this Christmas, but these little ones were their children and now their faith seemed to be at stake. Was there no way out? It seemed not.

  The clock faithfully ticked off the minutes. The fire was starting to go out in the range. Father and Mother sat looking at those six stockings hanging in a neat little row--empty. And they were helpless to do anything about it. The clock struck 8:00. Then 8:30. Then 9:00. Then 9:30. Finally the clock struck 10.00. The room was beginning to get cold.

  Father said, "Well, there is no use of us waiting here. We might as well go to bed."

  They sat a few minutes more before retiring. Father was starting to get up when in the distance they heard the ringing of some sleigh bells. They listened. In the crisp, cold, frosty air, they could hear even the crunch of snow under the horses' hooves. Now the sleigh was coming closer and closer and closer. Suddenly, someone shouted, "Whoa," and the sleigh bells were silenced in front of our house. Someone came and knocked on the door. Father flung it wide open and there stood the groceryman,

  "Brother," he said, "I am glad to find you up. I have been busy all day. I have had something for you but have not been able to get it to you until now."

  Out he went to the sleigh and brought in a big apple box full of groceries. Then back he went and brought in another large box. Father and Mother were astonished. All they could do was to stand there and watch. Upon setting down the second box, the grocery-man turned and said very cheerily, "A very Merry Christmas to you!" and, closing the door, away he went.

  Father and Mother, stunned, looked at one another for a moment, then began to look at the contents of the boxes. In them they found everything they needed and more, to fill the stockings until they bulged. There were oranges, apples, nuts, candy, sugar, and many other things. There was warm underwear for Father--something he really needed in going out to labor with the doctor day after day, There were new ice skates for us children. It was just that extra giving, so characteristic of our Lord. At last Father and Mother went wearily, but happily, to bed. Their hearts were light, for now their children would not be disappointed in the morning.

  It was tradition at our house that the first one up in the morning would yell, "Merry Christmas!" and thus wake up everyone else. So, early on that cold, frosty morning, the first one up cried, "Merry Christmas!" which brought up all the rest of the little heads--six in all. Out of bed, we jumped, dressing hurriedly. We were oblivious to the cold floor, as down the steps we ran in a wild rush for the kitchen.

  There hung our stockings, filled to the top!

  "Didn't we tell you so? Didn't we say that the Lord Jesus would do it?" we cried out excitedly. "He brought things for our stockings."

  Father and Mother watched us, their eyes bright with tears of joy. Afterwards, we crowded around them and one of us asked again, "Didn't we tell you that Jesus was able to fill our stockings?"

  That was a very happy Christmas. We know Who brought to us joy on this day which turned out to be a very disappointing Christmas for most children. There has been many a Christmas since then, and many lovely and more expensive gifts than those have been received, but there has never been a Christmas as real or as precious as that one was. What a joyous Christmas dinner we had as we heartily gave thanks to God and shared with our neighbors!

  (This incident happened in the life of my mother, Mrs. Ruth Treese, East Liverpool, Ohio, as a girl in Canada. Written by Paul W. Treese.)

  My Cupboards Were Completely Bare

  I had scraped together everything I had in the house to feed my small children. My cupboards were completely bare. They had gone outside and played most of the morning, but it was noontime now and they were hungry, so one by one they would come in and ask for something to eat. I would try to put them off, but they kept asking to eat. I would say, "We're going to eat," but of course just when, I wasn't sure. Finally, I took them in to the living room and took the Bible and opened it to Matthew 6:25-34, and read it to them. "Therefore I say to you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?" Verse 26--"Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?" Verse 33--"But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

  Of course, my children couldn't understand so much of what I was reading but it was encouraging my own faith. Just as I finished reading, I heard my neighbor calling for me over the fence. I laid the Bible down and walked out to see why she called. She was whining and started telling me how her children didn't appreciate her. I asked, "Now why do you feel that way?" She answered, "I cooked a full course meal and they barely touched it, and they won't eat it if I warm it up later. I was wondering if your family has eaten yet? Would you be interested in the food I've cooked?"

  "Would I?" She brought it over and I invited her into the living room and read her the Scripture I had just read my children about God's care for us. I shared with her my predicament and told her how God had used her and her food to answer prayer. She was greatly moved upon and wept. How great is our God. Amen!

  Gertrude Smith

  Louisiana

  A Drunkard Redeemed

  My life, like so many lives, was one affected by drink. I started at an early age with just one drink. Because of my build and size, I was never questioned as to my age when buying liquor. When I was sixteen, I had no trouble in buying drinks of high power in alcohol--by the age of twenty, it really had a grip on me.

  Nearly all I made at work went for booze and high living. I became a slave and a debtor to the barroom, as it was seemingly on my mind constantly.

  The darkness and sensual music that issued out of the dens of sin enticed me, and I yielded. Drink became my all. I was enslaved, as I felt I could have no joy without it. Its false security became my only place of escape, to find out when sober it had only wrought more pain upon myself, and pain upon my family. No other one in our connection was given to drink.

  Nights and days spent in a barroom brought reproach upon a praying mom, a loving dad, who through self-denial gave the best they could to their family, the best sister any man could ever own, and a brother who provided for his wife and children second to none. Yet with all this knowledge, the voice of Satan continually caused me to yield to more and deeper sin. <
br />
  In 1950, I met and fell in love with my wife. She came from a home--where drink was no stranger, as her father and brother were heavy drinkers. Her father died when she was only nine years old. She did not complain too much about my excessive drinking. On March 23, 1951 we were married. Everyone seemed to feel that this was just what was needed to straighten me out, but not so. I became extremely jealous, and drowned my sorrows with booze, and by now.any kind was desirable.

  Our first child, Deborah, was born May 6, 1953. Upon bringing her mother home, that very night, I had a bout with booze. I grew more and more chronic in alcoholism and was warned by two or more physicians as to the outcome of my condition.

  This only seemed to make me worse, as the, feeling, "I'll show them," was harbored in my heart. In February of 1954, I lost my car, and had to quit work because of sickness brought on by excessive drinking. On August 4, 1954 our second child, Raymond, was born. Now with even more responsibility upon me, I still grew worse and worse. In September, I was restored to my former job, yet continued to drink up a least half of my wages.

  Throughout '55, '56, and '57, I grew more grave in my alcoholism. Twice I was in the hospital for internal bleeding. On December 29, 1957 I was in the room with a man--a precious soul--who went out to meet God in delirium tremors, yet upon my release from the hospital, I went right back to drinking.

  In February of 1957, I lost my job because of missing so much work. By then my physical condition was grave. My sugar count was high, and my weight-was in the 300 pounds.

  In March of 1958, we moved to Pleasant City, Route 2, on a small farm of 21 acres. Some neighbors stopped and asked to take our children to Sunday school. We allowed them to go, and I would sometimes pick them up and then take them with me to beer joints the rest of the day.

  My condition grew more and more grave. Between 1958 and 1961, life seemed to lose all reality. My wife had gotten work in 1956, and was our only support. I would hound her for money to get drunk on, then worked around until I not only got drunk, but I stayed drunk. I am safe in saying that, for the exception of 13 weeks, I was intoxicated for seven years in a row.

  Finally, on January 19, 1961, the doctor let me out of the room, called my wife in and told her that if something didn't change, I would not live more than two weeks to two months. On the way home, I questioned her concerning what he had told her, and she let me know.

  I'd had an early education in church and Sunday school, as my mother had taken me and had insisted that I go even when I didn't care for church. I knew that I was a lost soul because of my drunkenness and riotous living. My weight at that time was 365 pounds. I only washed and shaved when I wanted to; I filled my mind full of dirty jokes and sex books. I was devil possessed, for I feel I had a legion on board.

  From the time I learned of my soon coming doom, I began to get down the old family Bible and read daily. I would walk the dirt road past the old North Star School. I remember that my feet and legs were on fire. I lost all desire for drink and couldn't stand the smell of it. All filthy books lost their attraction for me in the light of the fact that I was lost, world without end.

  I continued to read the old King James version of the Word of God. As the days seemed to race by, I realized more and more I was lost. The one thing I had always run to had no attraction now. My blood pressure had climbed up into the area of 300; my heart was a constant threat as it had been overworked, and one doctor told me I had the heart of an 80-year-old man, although I was only 34 1/2 years old.

  Then one morning in February, the 7th, Tuesday morning, 1961, I was reading Matt. 18:11 where Jesus said, "For the Son of Man is come to save that which was lost," when I fell on my knees and repented of my sins, my condition, and my heart's condition--friends, I repented of everything I could think of and God saved my soul for Jesus' sake.

  The burden of sin rolled away, praise His dear Name, and I became a new creature in Christ Jesus, my Saviour. I didn't know it then, but later in church I learned that He washed my sins away by His blood shed for me at Calvary.

  Friend, though sin-sick, physically doomed, and sick; having a corrupted mind and perverted thoughts, yet with all this considered, upon repenting with godly sorrow, all these conditions were washed away.

  He broke the bottle in my life and replaced it with His blessed Word, the Bible. He took me from the barstool and put me in a church pew. The desire for drink was completely gone, and by His grace has never returned. Now I am concerned about others who are in the same state of life I was in. My prayer is for them to receive at the hand of God the same mercy, grace, and deliverance I received through the precious blood of Jesus.

  Since the time of deliverance and conversion, God, through His blessed Holy Spirit, has called me into holiness--spirit, soul and body (1 Thess. 5:23)--and called me into the ministry. "My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness."

  Since that day, I have found more than once that I was lost in His love. I've found His Word reproves, rebukes, instructs, chastises (Heb. 12:11) and encourages, supplies, keeps, and satisfies just to name a few of the wonderful ways God cares for His own.

  I found the love that can be mine with my family. In my worst days, my children Deborah and Raymond, continued to attend church and were both saved at an early age. I believe that they had a big part being responsible for me obtaining mercy at the hand of God.

  The church prayed, the saints fasted, and God delivered one old drunk and made him one of His own in the moment of repentance (2 Peter 3:9). My heart is gladdened in knowledge that through no works of my own that I had done, but by His grace, He saved me through Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son. Praise His wonderful Name!

  Rev. Raymond Rice

  Ohio

  A Husband's Conversion and How God Averted a Heart Operation

  A lady from Michigan writes, "We have some answers to prayer we would like to share. First and most important is my husband's conversion. After praying for him thirteen years, the Lord performed the miracle. He was a rough sinner with no knowledge or desire for God, Bible or church. He and his entire family were unchurched. Though he was a good husband and father, yet booze dominated his life. But thank God, prayer was answered in his behalf and God saved him. When he got up from the altar, he testified, "I have a new boss now." From then on, he has been a changed man. He had always hunted and fished on Sundays, as he worked six days a week plus lots of overtime. So Sunday was his day of recreation and he wouldn't give that up for anything or anyone. He got saved in the middle of hunting season, but hasn't fished or hunted on Sundays since. He has no desire to break the Sabbath. Also, God took away his desire for tobacco and booze. He loves the old-fashioned, conservative way which makes our home a real Christian home. I praise God for the wonderful job He did on my husband.

  Also, I'd like to testify as to how God took care of a bad heart condition. In October, 1964, I had heart failure and was scheduled to have a pacer implant, but no pacer was available. By the time the pacer arrived, my heart was stabilized above fifty, so surgery was canceled. Praise the Lord!

  Again in 1976, I had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital, and was placed on a machine to stabilize me until my doctor arrived. He scheduled me for surgery immediately, when he checked me, but due to a terrible accident, the surgery floor was filled. As long as my condition was stable, he said I could wait until morning. They had put me on medication by then and when the doctor came the next day, he said that if my condition stayed good on the medication, I would not need surgery. The next day, he canceled my surgery and discharged me a week later.

  This happened again three years later, surgery being delayed by the doctor's absence. Again he canceled the surgery when he arrived and checked me. This time he said, "Ruby, you have too many people praying for you so I won't worry as long as you have the Master Physician caring for you." My heart specialist, Ralph Brandt, is also a Christian, thankfully .

  God has been very
good to me and I praise Him for what He has done.

  Ruby E. Hayner

  Her Husband Testifies of God's Help With His Transmission Trouble

  We were on our way to Fort Myers to visit the mission there. We were coming from Miami. About halfway, the fluid started pouring out of the transmission. This forced us to have to stop along a very desolate stretch of road. It was almost dark so we had no choice but to spend the night. Thankfully, we were pulling our small travel trailer. As we were discussing the cost, I told my wife it would probably cost at least one hundred fifty dollars to fix it. Then I said, "I believe God can fix transmissions as well as people." Then we promised God that if He would fix our transmission that we would give the money to the mission. We then discussed the fact that the devil could make us think it was fixed, then let us down. So we purposed to give one hundred and fifty dollars to the mission regardless if it was fixed or not.

  The next morning I hitch-hiked into town. Thankfully, the first car that came along picked me up. A service station attendant suggested that instead of taking the wrecker, that we would first go out in his pick-up and take oil to fill the transmission, then drive it to town, then he could see where it was coming from. So that is what we did. All the way back to town, it didn't leak, so the attendant told me he didn't think there was anything wrong with it. So taking his word, we continued on our journey, driving one hundred miles to the mission. The transmission didn't leak the whole way. Upon our arrival, when we saw Brother Walker, we gave him the hundred and fifty dollars, as we had promised God. Tears came into his eyes when he saw it and he called the assistant pastor and said, "See, I told you so." No doubt, he had a pressing need and God used the money we gave to supply it. Isn't that just like the God we serve?

  We drove the car another fifteen thousand miles and the same fluid was in it when we traded it that was put in when we had the trouble. It had never leaked again.

  So that proved that God can fix cars as well as people.

  Harold Hayner