Les Matula

Some Apostolic Faith people gassed up an old Chevrolet and traveled from Minneapolis back up into the hills of Wisconsin to tell the Gospel story that Jesus saves and satisfies. I am so thankful that there were people who were interested in our souls. I am so glad they told the Story from the earnestness of their hearts.

The Gospel appealed to me, but what was I going to do about it? I had a lot of friends and a lot of high ideals and ambitions. I didn’t want to give them up. Although I didn’t take the way at that time, this Gospel was planted in my heart. I saw that dear old mother of mine take the way. God came into her heart and made a wonderful change and she turned out to be a prayer warrior for her boys. I saw them come one by one. I was the last one.

I ran from the people of God; I ran from my Christian mother. I headed for Los Angeles, California, to get away from things. That is where God caught up with me. I am so glad Jesus talked with me one day in the suburbs of Los Angeles. I know what conviction is. Mighty conviction seized my soul. For three solid days I could not eat or sleep, I could not say a pleasant word to my family.

God made me come to Portland, Oregon, for the 1951 camp meeting. I did not come on a pleasure trip; I came for business. I was as low as a grease spot on the floor, but the people of God encouraged me. They said, “Brother, if you intend to get salvation, you will go home with it.” I prayed for five solid days, repenting of my sins. On the last day of the camp meeting, Jesus did the work at the altar of prayer. Tears streamed down my face—tears of rejoicing that Jesus had washed away my sins. I was a child of God. I am a child of God today. Jesus redeemed me from the life of sin and has given me six years of victory.

I love the Gospel. Best of all, I love my Jesus. I love to go out on the street corners, into the highways and byways, and tell people of this glorious Gospel.