Einar Nelson

I was brought up on a farm out in North Dakota. In that home, we did not have time for church. Mother died suddenly when I was five years old. We were a large family and Dad needed help. It took him a year to sell our farm and move us to Wisconsin where our grandmother could move in and help. I am thankful God sent her. She lived a Christian life before me, and I knew she had the old-time religion. She read the Bible, and taught us about Jesus, Heaven, and Hell. I believed there was a Heaven to gain and a Hell to shun. She made Heaven sound so good; I used to wish I could go there.

When I was twelve years old, she was taken away. There was no more religious training, but I remembered what she taught me about Hell, and it bothered me for years. As a teenager, I would go out drinking on Saturday nights and then tremble with conviction after disobeying God. However, I did not know how to obtain salvation.

I began to feel sorry for myself and went the downward way. I felt cheated out of a mother and grandmother. I started to drink, smoke, and curse. I swore like a trooper, and I thought I was pretty tough. I thought that is what it took to be a man.

I would see the neighbors drive by my farm on their way to church on Sunday mornings, but I didn’t think I needed to go. I didn’t think religion was for me. God did not let me go very long in that state of mind. He showed me the way I was living was wrong and made me miserable in my sins. To justify my actions, I began to scoff at religion and argue different points with others.  I am so glad for God’s mercy and longsuffering.

One night when I was nineteen, in the prime of life, I was taken to a hospital in the middle of a snowstorm and given an emergency operation. I was not expected to live. I lay sick in that hospital for almost a year and had three more operations. During that time, God spoke to my heart and I began to think about eternity. I decided I would live differently when I got out, but I didn’t have God in my heart. As soon as I was released, I went right back with the same crowd.

I got sick again and went back into the hospital. I was nothing but skin and bones by then. The doctor came to my room and told me I would have to go back on the operating table. I had almost died every time before—had even been in a coma—so I expected I would stand before my Maker in a few hours. I gave up all hope. Then God laid it on my heart that I needed help from somewhere other than man.

It was the night of December 16, 1931 when I looked up to the great God of Heaven in sorrow, with a broken and contrite heart and asked Him to show me what to do. He showed me there was sin in my heart. My sins were piled up as high as a mountain. I was afraid to die and go to Hell. I was so close to it and I did not want to get any closer. My grandmother had told me God would forgive me if I asked. I pled with Him to forgive me, but I did not believe He would be so merciful. Finally, I looked up and said, “I don’t know what to do. I will just have to trust You.”

Suddenly that burden of sin that was on my heart rolled away. My soul flooded with the peace of Heaven. I felt as if I had never committed a wrong act in my life. I felt so clean—as innocent as a baby. In a moment of time, the drinking, cursing, and smoking were gone. I thought, If I die on the operating table, I will not go to Hell. I did not know what God would do for me physically, but I felt at peace in my soul. God gave me more than peace; He healed my body. I never had the operation. After a few days, the doctor took my bandages off and sent me home.

When I got back to the farm, I wanted to know more about God. I didn’t even have a Bible. I purchased a paperback New Testament. It seemed like the message in it was meant for me. God shed light on one subject and then another. I wanted to line up to what I read. As I prayed, God helped me to do this. I wondered what church I should join. There were a lot of them around. I began to pray earnestly that God would lead me to His people, so I wandered from one church to another seeking them. About a year later, a friend gave me an Apostolic Faith paper. It was yellowed with age. It seemed many had already read it. It was just what I had been looking for. I read those testimonies and said in my heart, “This is exactly what God did for me while I was in the hospital; He cleaned me up.” I had been ridiculed by my friends for giving up liquor and tobacco, and here were people who had done the same.

I wondered if there was any way God could get me to where those people were. Portland, Oregon, seemed so far away. I wanted to go to their annual camp meeting. I prayed, and God answered my prayer. When I arrived, I thought it was for just a few days, but I have been here for many years now.

God has been good to me. One time I was injured in an accident about thirty miles from the campground. A man brought me onto the campground through the side gate and interrupted the prayer meeting. Someone brought me a chair and I sat out on the gravel walkway while two ministers prayed for me. As I raised my arm toward Heaven, the pain went away. God showed me that He was still well able to take care of me.

I have found down through the years that it pays to serve the Lord. I thank God for the Gospel.