My Testimony

Here's the story of my path to faith...

This is a little long but it is worth reading every word due to the fact it is a true testimony of a real person telling how, as young age of 11 years old, I accepted the Lord as my Savior and what brought me to the feet of Jesus! This is my Testamony! READ and ENJOY!!!

Cornerstone Pentecostal Church of God

Gurdon, Arkansas

Back in 1967, the month of May, the 25th day I surrender to the Lord, my presonal Savior. I open up the door of my heart and let Jesus come and sup with me. But that was not the frist or the last of my testamony.

Lest go back about a year or so before May 25, 1967 at the little Beirne Baptist Church in a small saw mill town where everyone knew who you are. They sure knew your business more then they knew theirs. The church was setting on what now the property of the Beirne Saw Mill before it was moved accrose the road on the land my aunt once lived on.

My sisters and I attended this Baptist Church on a regular basic since we move to Beirne in 1958 when I was two years old. An elderly lady (Mrs. Wilson) went from house to house (walking) and pick up the children of the community for Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. She would walk us to church. My oldest sister Edna had already join the church and we all four were a member of the Sunday School classes.

One Sunday morning in the year of 1965 or 1966 the preacher was preaching hell and brimstone message. I remember that he gave an altar call at the end of his sermon as he did every Sunday. I remember going up to the front to shake the preacher's hand and tell him I wanted to be saved from my sins. I was not the only one that morning went to the front to make a committment with the Lord. My sister that is 12 months and 5 days older then me (Shelia), a neighbor girl Sherri which is a couple of years older, maybe three years older then me, and a few more young people went up to the front to get saved. Remember that I said my sister a year older than me went up to get saved. We were all lined up in the front of the church standing in front of the preacher. He took the hand of each one of us, one by one, and talk with us (one by one) and prayed with us or over us. I not sure which, because when he got to me, he talk with me as he took a hold of my hand, but he turn me away - in his eyes, I was not at the accountable age. I was just 10 or 11 years old, I remember the preacher telling me that I was not old enough to get saved. He told me that I only came to the front of the church to get saved because my sister did. I was just folllowing her and wanting to do whatever she did. He had me to set down on the prew (the front seat) and wait after he dismiss the service and he would talk to me more. After the deacon Jack Shavor dismiss the service, and the church folks left for their homes, the preacher approach me again about my age of accountablity. He said he was going to pay my parents a visit that evening after he ate his lunch and talk with them about me wanting to be saved. It was in the summer time, I know. I remember when he drove up, Mother was outside talking to Daddy while he was in the dog pen he had built for all of his dogs, he was feeding the dogs. Mother mention that she was in a pair of short - shorts and there was the preacher. My parents and the preacher talk a little and he told them that I was a little to young to get saved and he said that I need to wait until I turn 12 years old. He told them he figure I went up to the front because my sister (we were like twins) went up to the front. He accepted Shelia into the church and let her join the church but he turn me down. I was standing out in the yard while they talk and I spoke up a few times - each time my mother told me to stop arguing with the preacher. She always said that it was wrong to argue with a man of God (the preacher). Daddy didn't say much, if any, accept greeted the preacher with a warm handshake. Daddy was a man of few words unless he had something to say. I pleaded with my parents and the preacher to let me get saved. I remember telling them that I didn't want to die and go to "Hell". Mother told me several times to shut up. She finally told me to go into the house and shut up. She added that I was young and had plenty of time to get saved when I am older.

I remember laying on my bed that I share with one of my sisters (Edna, I think, if she wasn't married already) that was near the bedroom window. I laid there crying to God to not let me die until I was at least 12 so I could get saved. I didn't want to die and go to "Hell" to burn forever.

No one - not my mother - not my father - no one at all told me that I didn't needed the preacher's hand in fellowship to get saved, I didn't need the preacher's permission to get saved. No one told me that all I had to do was ask the Lord into my heart and tell Him that I was sorry for my sins and wanted his forgiveness for all my sins. I was not told that when I went to the front of the church that morning, all I had to do was to accept the Lord into my heart, no matter how old or young I was, and no matter what the preacher or my parents thought about it. I wish they had. I spent all them months, maybe even more than a year living in total fear of dying and going to "Hell" before I could get save. Why didn't my different Sunday School teachers tell me that the preacher and my parents were wrong? They seem to not care, not even my parents.

Moving on. Sometime after that, my heart harden and I was able to put salvation and dying to the back of my mind. My dad work with a crazy man that confess Christianity but his action prove other wise. He asked Daddy and us to attend a revival at his church his family attended in the next town. Daddy wanted to go that Friday night and see what this man really had, if anything. So he told Mother that we were going to church that Friday night. The man he work with may had pick us up for church since Mother or Daddy didn't drive and us kids were to young to drive at that time.

Mother and Daddy were having trouble in the marriage department and us kids were already asked who would we choose to live with if they did split up and get a divorce. I was the only one of the four girls to choose Daddy. I didn't believe he did what Mother excuse him of doing. He dead and gone, and I am the only one that don't believe that Daddy was running around on Mother. We went that night. Us kids already went a few night before with this same family. Us kids went to school with this man's kids. Daddy was raised Pentecostal and Mother was raised Baptist (what little of church she was allowed to attend) while she was growing up. She came from a line of Uncles that were minsters.Daddy's grandfather Perser was a Baptist minster but back then in the 1800s and early 1900s Baptist and Pentecostal were so near the same.

Daddy enjoy the services that he wanted to go back the next night. The next night, if I remember right, Mother and Daddy both walk down to the altars and gave their hearts to God. The marriage soon got back on tracts.

The little Baptist church in Beirne heard that my parents went to a Pentecostal Church of God's revival and got saved, so the Baptist church did not want us kids to come back to their church any more. Us kids founded out that piece of news when we were sent to the only local store to get a box of salt or something that Mother needed at the house. It could been just getting a big bottle of coke to divide with us four kids and Mother like we did some times. The lady that work there was a member of the Baptist Church. If my memory serves me right, my parents only went just Friday and Saturday nights of the revival and plan to try to go some the following week after they got saved, but their plans were to start attending the Beirne Baptist church on the weekends since Mother was a Baptist. Mrs. People told us that Edna and Shelia were no longer a member of the Baptist Church and Nancy and I plus the other two I just mention, were no longer part of the Sunday School Classes. We ran home as fast as we could to tell Mother. We never been kick out of anything in our life and sure didn't think we would be kick out of our home church by visiting another faith during a revival. My parents didn't even had time to start doing to the church in Beirne before the church got together and kick us out of the church. Mother told Daddy when he got home from work, and he told the preacher at the Pentecostal Church in Gurdon when he came and got us for the revival service that night.

That was horrible to Brother Patterson (pastor of the Pentecostal Church of God in Gurdon.) He offer to pick us up every service (Sundays and Wednesdays and Fridays when they had their fellowship meetings and youth rallies), if Daddy and Mother wanted him too. That how we started attending the First Pentecostal Church of God in Gurdon Arkansas the year of 1966.

Oh, no one ever went to my parents with the news that us kids were not welcome at Beirne Baptist, not the preacher, or any of the members that lived around us and work with Daddy at the saw mill. It was left up to Mrs. Delta Peoples to tell us kids when we drop in at the store for something Mother forgot to buy in town (Gurdon) where she brought the food for us each week. I would love to add, after preacher left, Brother Victor Retteman took the church in Beirne, and he made a special visit to our house to specially invite us kids to vacation Bible school each summer until we all got to big for Vacation Bible school, and Mother sent us each summer after Brother Rattman took the church. My mother's best friend Rosalee Lee Otwell attended that church and she later visited the Pentecostal Church on different singings and revival and the Baptist church did not kick her out for it.

Moving on. Several months (maybe even a year) after my parents got saved, one Sunday morning (May 25, 1967) Brother Patterson let his nice's husband preach that morning. Brother Paul Douging was a preacher's son also. I don't remember the message of Brother Douging that morning but I do remember what happen after he ended his sermon. The church always gave an altar call and after waiting a few minutes for sinners or someone in need of prayer to come to the altars to pray, the preacher would call the whole church to the front to pray at the altars. My parents were at the altars praying with other members of the church. Then for some reason the men always went to one side of the building to pray and the women went to the other side of the building to pray. It wasn't plan that way. It wasn't any rules for that to happen, it just seem to happen that way. So Mother was praying besides a elderly lady (Sister Delta Rose) and us kids were setting on the prews being good kids. We knew how to act in church (no talking, no fighting, no giggling, you get the point).

I was setting close to the back of the church for some reason or the others. Most of the time we either set with my parents on the same seat with them, or on the next seat in front of them which was the front seat of the church. I was setting in the seat close to the back crying. Sister Rose nudge Mother and told her that I was setting in the back crying. She told Mother that I most likely was scared of the noise of the people shouting, and rejoicing at the front.

Mother got up from praying and went to the back where I was setting. I was still crying. She ask me if I was scared. Brother Patterson had a run-away (that when someone take off shouting , running down the isles). He would jump the pews with his eyes shut while he was in the spirit of the Lord. Never miss a pew (now I am talking about the back of the pews) and never fell while he was jumping the pews in the spirit. No, I was not scared of the shouting. Daddy would take off running in the spirit from the front of the church to the back door and back without stopping in the spirit with his eyes close all the time. That didn't scare me.

Mother wanted to know why I was crying if I was not scared of the noise and shouting. I started pouring out my little 11 years and 9 and 1/2 months old heart to my mother in tears between slops. There was a spiritual battle going on in my head. Something or someone was telling me to go to the altar to get saved and then there was a voice telling me, reminding me what Brother Christmas told my parents and me several months or may be even a year before that, that I was not 12 years old yet and I was to young to get saved. I look at Mother through the heavy tears that was pouring out of my eyes and down my cheeks, "What do I do?" I asked. What do I do?

Mother started to talk to me. She started explaining that the voice I was hearing in my head was the voice of God telling me to go to the altars and get saved. The voice I head that was telling me to stay in my pew and reminding me what Brother Christmas had told me before, was nothing but the devil and he didn't want anyone to turn to God. I asked her if I had to asked Brother Patterson or Brother Dougins their permission to get saved. The preacher did say he would love to meet the sinners at the altars and pray with them. Did he mean I had to asked him for his permission to get saved like in the Baptist church? If so, since I was not at the age of acountablity, he would send me away without allowing me to accept God into my heart. I sure didn't want to be turn away the second time. I hated rejection even at a young age of 11 years old.

Mother took my hand and told me that I didn't need anyone permission to get saved, not her's, not my daddy's, not the preacher's. All I had to do is asked Jesus to come into my life and forgive me of my sins, and save my soul. Just that simple. I look at her with tears fill eyes and asked her why wasn't I allow to get saved a year ago at the Baptist church when Brother Christmas turn me away because of my age? Why didn't she or Daddy tell me that I didn't need Brother Christmas's permission to be saved? Why? Mother couldn't give me a good enough answer even if she had tried and she knew it. She didn't answer my questions but with my hand in hers, she asked did I wanted her to go with me to the altar and pray with me that the Lord would saved my soul. I grab her hand and cried out "Yes, please go with me and pray with me." We walk hand in hand, to the front of the church where a few were setting down while they prayed, some were praying with others that had needs that they wanted God to meet. We knelt down at the altar, no talking to the preacher, no refusal, no turning a child away. Seem like, as I started to pray, I heard my daddy praying with his heavy hand on top of my head, maybe my shoulder or back, but I knew it was my daddy. As I cry out to God for my salvation, most of the church that hadn't already went home, gather around me and prayed with me. When I got up from the altar, I felt like a burden had lifted off of my shoulders. I can't described the joy, and peace I felt in my heart and soul that morning. I was a born again sinner saved by the grace of God and I knew at the moment I accepted Jesus as my personal savior, that I would never be turn away from God by any man any more.

That following Saturday, June 1, 1967, my parents and us kids went with our pastor Brother Patterson to this little Assembly Church of God where this lady lived and preach. She would have a lot of different young preachers to attend Saturday night hoping they would be asked to preach that night. Sister Nancy Smith always asked someone to take the pulpit and preach to us. She preached on Sunday mornings and Sunday night and on Wednesday night but Saturday nights were the young preachers from all over Arkansas, it was their night. There were times she had several young preachers to take 30 minutes and preach what was on their heart that night, one after the others. We sometimes didn't get out of church until after midnight.

That Saturday night, I don't remember who preach that night. Some would preach when they stood to testified before she turn the service to the preacher or preachers she had felt lead to ask to preach that night. I remember during the altar call, I went up to seek for the Holy Ghost that night. I was a very sly little girl and that night, I could not tell you how many hands I felt laying on my head, shoulders, back, and arms that I had held up in the air while I was asking God to fill me with the Holy Ghost (or Holy Spirit). Some hands were heavy and others were soft, some told me to say "Jesus, Jesus" over and over. Others told me to say "I love you Jesus" over and over. Some touch my lips with instructions to say or do. With all of this going on, I could tell you which hand was my Daddy's and which hand was my mother's. I could even tell you which hand was Brother Patterson, but no one else hands could I tell who they belong too. I can't remember how long I was at the altar praying, or who all left, one by one going home. When I stop praying, my parents, Brother and Sister Patterson, Sister Smith, and a few young ministers that live close by were still standing over me praying with me. I came up shouting before I received the Holy Ghost. Once I stop listening to the voices around me, and started saying whatever that came to my mind like "Thank you Jesus" or "I love you Jesus", or just "Jesus, Jesus", I started speaking in a language only God knew what I was praying. I stood there at the altars for the longest praising God, speaking in a Heavenly tongue that even the devil didn't know what I was praying. I sure didn't know. But I felt as free as a bird and as light as one too.

After I got grown and married, I was living in Texarkana, Texas and several preachers and their wives visited and some became members at the little Assemble of God church I was attending. One was preaching that day at church for the preacher, and he mention the small town Gurdon Arkansas and his deepest heart desire years ago to pastor an Assembly Church of God in Gurdon, not the one Sister Smith lived and preach at. That one closed when she died years ago. The preacher look like someone I saw before but where? After church that day, I asked him about Gurdon, and if he ever been to Sister Smith's church outside of Gurdon on Red Springs Road? Yes, he had when he was real young and just started preaching. I asked him did he remember a preacher that jump the back of the pews while he was shouting? He remember Brother Patterson and his pew jumping. I ask him if he remember a 6 foot 4 inches tall slim built man running the ailes shouting? He remember the tall man I was talking about. I told him that was my Daddy. I asked him were he there when a small skinny 11 years old child spent a long time at the altar one night seeking for the Holy Ghost with a lot of young preachers praying with her, one of the same nights that the tall man had a run-away in the church and Brother Patterson shouted, jumping the back of the church pews? Yes, he said, he remember staying after mid-night praying with a young girl like I just described that shouted all over the front of the church speaking in the Holy Ghost. I look at the man and said, I was the little girl that received the Holy Ghost that night. It was me that shouted all over the front of the church speaking in the Holy Ghost. It was me.

On in the years I meet a few more of the young preachers that I first meet at Red Springs Assembly of God Church back in Arkansas. They all remember my daddy and Brother Patterson. I even went to church with one of the preacher's brothers for several years. This world is a small world after all.