J.J. Barney

It is good to be a born-again Christian and know where you stand. I once didn’t have this knowledge of sins forgiven, and I had a hard time trying to find someone who could tell me how to find victory and peace.

I was brought up in a Christian home. My mother taught us three boys to fear God and live for Him. She told us many times that if we lived a sinful life we would go straight to Hell and be burning and never die. I believed what she said. I was sent to an Indian school 500 miles from home. There I mingled with rough boys, and it seems I forgot all about my mother’s teaching and became the devil’s boy. I was locked up in jail three times for stealing and was punished many times at the school. But God in His mercy kept striving with me, and it seemed I could hear my mother’s voice about the wrong I was doing. I would get down on my knees and tell God I was sorry for what I was doing and ask Him to lead me.

One thing I know, there is a God, for He always talked to me, and I could hear my mother’s voice say, “pray.”

After several years in school, I returned home and joined a church. I didn’t know anything about being born again or praying through to victory. In my heart I cried for a witness from God that I was a child of His. I thought perhaps that if I did my best in church work and did not miss any meetings, it would gradually get brighter in my heart. After five years of doing my best, I became so unhappy and disappointed as a class leader and a steward of the church.

I said to myself, “If I can’t find joy in religion, it is no use to keep going. These five years are long enough to find out if there is reality in the Gospel.” Then I began to attend different churches. Every time I heard of a revival, I was sure to go. Sometimes the meetings I went to were absolutely lifeless and no one seemed to have any interest even to talk to me. My life was like a land where no rainwater dropped for twenty years, or a tree without leaves, no birds to sing, and no sound of life. I think I was the unhappiest Indian in the United States.

One thing I know, there is a God, for He always talked to me, and I could hear my mother’s voice say, “pray.” I’m glad I obeyed and kept praying to my God in Heaven for help, for He did send help to me many months later.

One day I stopped plowing and walked to the mailbox and found a paper. It was an Apostolic Faith paper, which was sent to me by an Indian lady employed at the Indian hospital. She knew I was hungry for God’s truth. I started reading that paper and I didn’t know when to stop. I said, “Those people are God’s people.” The teaching on sanctification appealed to me. It was something I never had heard about before. I learned something about seeking God from reading that paper and I began to pray.

Sometime later, I attended a revival downtown where they had an altar, and when the altar call was given, I went down and prayed. God met me with open arms, and I rejoiced for I was wonderfully saved. A great change took place in a moment of time. The heavy load I carried night and day was gone, and my heart was filled with joy. Every tree seemed to clap its’ hands with joy. I can say after nineteen years, I still have that victory in my heart and it grows better all the time. I can recommend to anyone that there is reality in the Gospel of Christ.