Dolly Walker

The most important thing to my mother, in bringing up her eleven children, was that we would know Jesus and serve Him. She had a strong love for the truth, so though times were hard back during the Depression, and we were unable to get to the Apostolic Faith Church about twelve miles away, mother made it a practice to have family worship in our home. She would call us together, and we had to keep quiet unless we were talking to Jesus. Mother would say, “Everybody pray.” Then she would go around to us children on her knees. She would lay her hands on our backs, one at a time, and pray for us.

Those times of prayer made me uncomfortable, because deep in my heart I wanted the ways of the world. When mother would come to me, she would say, “O God, you stop Dolly in her wild career!” I would look around out of the corner of my eye and wish she would quit. But my mother knew there was power in prayer. When she would get to the end of her prayers, she would say, “God, when I’ve done all I can do and justice is satisfi ed, I want my children to be with me in Your Kingdom.” Many times she would then break down and start praying all over again, and it would seem as though she prevailed another hour for me.

“O God, you stop Dolly in her wild career!

In spite of those prayers, I went my own way. At the age of fourteen I left home. I was supposed to be going away to work so I could buy myself some school clothing, but I thought of it as getting away from the family altar and from the mother who was praying so earnestly for me. To my surprise, I found that when I got away from home, I missed it. I went to the shows and danced the heels off my shoes in a dance hall. But wherever I went, my mother’s prayers followed me: “God, You stop Dolly.” Conviction settled so heavily on my heart that I went back to our little country home and began seeking the Lord.

I didn’t want Mother to know I was praying, because I thought if I could get rid of the awful conviction that was making me so miserable, then I could go on my way. However, instead of lessening, the conviction became greater. One day I went into the backyard where I thought I could pray in secret, not knowing Mother was watching me. When I came out of my place of prayer, Mother was standing under the hickory nut tree. She knew I was praying—she went into the house and called us all to prayer!

I knew then that Mother knew I was seeking the Lord. Somehow arrangements were made, and a little later she said that I was to go to the Apostolic Faith service that night. I went to that tabernacle, and I cried my heart out to Jesus, but I knew I hadn’t really prayed through. Mother had said that when you got saved you would know it, and I wanted to know that I was saved.

By the next day, word had gotten out that Dolly wanted to be saved. There was no service that night, but our Sunday school superintendent and my mother held a cottage meeting with a group of us young people. That night, as I knelt and prayed with my face buried on my arm, I told Jesus if He would come into my heart and make me happy, I would serve Him.

I will never forget what happened. As I began to raise my head toward the sky, peace dropped into my heart. I knew that God had forgiven my sins and my name was written in Heaven. Oh, the peace, the joy that I felt! I knew I had victory in my soul and I would be able to live for Him. The next day, I began to realize how complete the change was. I felt entirely different inside and out.

I knew that God had forgiven my sins and my name was written in Heaven.

The following Sunday, Mother took us to another Apostolic Faith meeting. I knew there was more and I wanted whatever God had for me. A real revival was breaking out. As I knelt, seeking the Lord for sanctification, the Lord came down and sanctified me and some others who were seeking that experience. Shortly after, the minister saw the glory of God on my face and he said, “Look at the smile!” I didn’t realize I was smiling, but I knew that something had taken place in my heart that was different from salvation. Somehow I felt that God had cleansed my heart.

As my Sunday school superintendent knelt before me, he encouraged me to praise the Lord. As I praised Jesus, each praise got better, got sweeter and deeper, until it seemed all I wanted to do was praise the Lord. I could tell something was happening. The Spirit of the Lord took over and baptized my soul with the Holy Spirit.
That was a beginning. The Lord kept me through high school with victory. I knew that God was calling me and that I wanted to dedicate my life in service for Him.

I knew that God was calling me and that I wanted to dedicate my life in service for Him.

By the time I was nineteen years of age, I made the consecration to do anything Jesus wanted me to do. One day I left home again, but this time to go to Kansas where I ministered for more than twenty years. Then God called me to Oklahoma to work with the Cherokee and Ponka Indians. Later, God called me to move to Newfoundland. It was my privilege to labor in that part of Canada for a number of years. I have witnessed healings and conversions; I have seen people receive sanctification and the baptism of the Holy Spirit.
Someday by God’s grace I know that I am going to walk on streets of gold. There I want to see Jesus—the One who died for me, saved my soul, sanctified me, baptized me, and who has given me power all these years to live a life above sin. On that day it will be my privilege to bow before Him and to thank Him for His redeeming grace.