May Richardson

From my earliest remembrance I wanted to serve God. When I was about eleven, I was saved, but gradually I lost that first love because I didn’t know how to keep it. I would ask my mother, “Do you think Jesus will take me to Heaven someday?” She told me to be as good as I could, and God would know my heart. That scared me; my heart wasn’t always good. Later, as a teenager, I would go forward during special meetings, but I didn’t pray through to salvation.

After graduating from high school, I got a job on the stage. I prided myself that of the sixteen girls I worked with, I was the only Christian. I was a self-righteous hypocrite, but underneath I hungered for something real. Every night I said, “Tomorrow I’ll do better,” but nothing changed.

I met Art, my husband-to-be, just before I graduated from high school. His family had gone to the Apostolic Faith Church since 1923. I had been told that those people were fanatics, so I determined not to get involved with them. However, I didn’t know the power of prayer!

After Art and I were married and had three little boys, my mother-in-law wanted to take our oldest boy to Sunday school. The church was some distance away, so I said, “No, he isn’t going that far without me.” Shortly after that, the Sunday meetings were moved to our area. Once again she asked if our son could go with her. By this time I had started taking him to my church. I told her he was satisfied where he was. She wasn’t so sure, so I said, “Go ahead and ask him!” He jumped at the chance to go. Was I ever upset! But I had to let him go.

About that time, some mothers in the church started to pray for the wayward children of the saints. Conviction began to settle down on me. One night during the camp meeting that year, Art and I went to church to please his mother. When we got there, I knew that I would have to pray before I went home. God put such conviction on me from the moment I entered the church that I felt it was my last chance to pray. I fought all through that service with, “Could I or not?” I tried to sing, but couldn’t. I tried to listen, but couldn’t. When the preacher asked for those who wanted prayer to raise their hands, I almost had to sit on mine to keep it down. As soon as the benediction was given, I asked Art to pray with me. He said no, but told me to go and pray, while he waited for me. He did not want to hold me back.

I made my way through the crowd toward the altar, and knelt at a seat in the front row. I cried and prayed, and before I left, God gave me His wonderful salvation! When I went to find my husband, I told him that I felt at peace.

I started to seek my sanctification. One night just a few weeks after I was saved God gave me that wonderful experience. I went on and sought for the baptism of the Holy Ghost, praying about two months seeking that experience. One Sunday night I was feeling discouraged because I just couldn’t seem to get what I was so hungry for. As I paused in prayer, I heard one brother encourage another saying, “Just believe that the Comforter has come.” Oh, the joy that welled up as I took hold of those words! They repeated over and over in my heart. I had renewed faith, and I prayed on until such a blessing poured out on my soul. Waves of joy flooded over me, but I could not be satisfied until I had the Biblical sign of speaking in tongues.

The blessings continued to roll over my soul all that week until one day I fell on my knees by my bed, and cried out, “Oh Lord, my son is going to be home for lunch in about five minutes, but first I must have my baptism. I want it so badly!” Hardly had that prayer been said when God poured out upon me the blessing that I had sought, and my tongue spoke in a language that I had never known.

Many years have gone by since that day, and the Lord has been with me. If I had known how long it would be before my husband would turn to the Lord, I wonder if I could have taken that first step. I believe I would have, but how thankful I am that we see just one day at a time.

I prayed long and earnestly for Art. One year he didn’t go to church with me even once, though he always encouraged me to take the children to Sunday school and church. Occasionally he came, and he would be under such conviction and yet would leave without praying. Often I wondered, What am I doing wrong? But how close God was to me through those years!

One day I felt overwhelmed with the burden. I cried out to God, “You take over completely. Let me be clear out of the way.” I continued to pray for Art, but I let go of all the preconceived ideas about how God would work. God began to put heavy conviction on him. About two weeks later, he gave up to the Lord and prayed through to salvation at an altar of prayer—twenty-one years after I had been saved.

I thank God that He took me out of the life of sin and put me on the Highway of Holiness. He has healed my family of sickness many times. I had a severe affliction on my body for two years, but the Lord healed me so that I could again come and sit through the meetings. I am grateful to the Lord for the many definite answers to prayer.