Gertrude Wilson

When I was just a little girl, living in Kentucky, the Lord would talk to my heart. My mother was a real Christian. She feared God and kept His commandments. I was taken to Sunday school and church, and my mother taught me that there was a Heaven to gain and a Hell to shun. She said that someday I would have to stand before God and give an account for the things I had done on this earth. She also said that before I would be ready for Heaven, Jesus would have to come into my heart and make a change.

The fear of God had been planted so deep in my heart that when I was tempted to go out into the world and have a good time, I just couldn’t. In 1937, when I was twenty-one, God let Holy Ghost conviction rest on me. I knew the Lord was striving with me, and I could not enjoy life. One day, I said to my mother, “I started the wash, but I can’t finish it. I have to pray.” I prayed for quite a while with all my heart. I told the Lord I would not care to live if I did not know my heart was right with Him. I had never done anything so very bad, but there had been such fear and condemnation in my soul. The Lord came down and rolled away that burden of sin. He forgave me and wrote my name in Heaven. That day peace and joy came into my heart, and I thought, If I die now, Heaven will be my home.

About that time, I became very sick. My mother spent hundreds of dollars on my health and took me to see many doctors. One day, while I was sitting in a doctor’s office, a still small Voice spoke to my heart and said, “The prayer of faith shall save the sick.” I answered, “Yes, I know, but where are the people who can pray the prayer of faith?”

I was not able to work, so I went to live with my sister in Illinois. I depended on her for my livelihood. We attended a little church there, but were not satisfied. We prayed that the Lord would lead us to a place where they preached the whole Word of God. Then someone gave us an Apostolic Faith paper from Portland, Oregon. We read it and had no doubt that every word was true. On a walk one day, we talked about how wonderful it would be to go there and meet the people in the pictures. We had never heard of Portland, though, and it seemed so far away.

We read in the church paper that the Apostolic Faith people prayed for the sick, and Jesus healed them. I began taking the paper to bed with me and praying. With tears streaming down my face, I would ask God to keep me alive until I could meet those people. In 1940, I realized I would not live much longer in the condition I was in. My sister said to me, “You are not getting better; I am going to send you to Portland.” I had never been anywhere before, but that was what I had been praying for. The Lord gave me the courage to get on a train and travel to Portland to meet the people of God, so they could pray for my healing.

I arrived during the annual camp meeting, and when I walked onto the campground, I knew I was among the people of God. Though I had never met any of them, they didn’t seem like strangers. There was not one day that I didn’t feel in my heart that it was the right place to be. Even when I found out there was an Apostolic Faith Church in Missouri and another in Minnesota, I felt the Lord had purposely led me to the headquarters in Portland. That camp meeting, I went up onto the platform and the ministers anointed my head with oil and prayed for me as the Bible instructs in James 5:14. Right then, God touched my body and healed me.

It has been several decades now. The Lord gave me the strength to go out and work in the business world and make a living. He also gave me a purpose in life. For some time I wondered, What can I do for the Lord? Then it came to me; I could pray. Oh the joy I have found in serving the Lord all these years!