Miriam Allen

My heart is filled with gratitude for the many wonderful things God has done for me. My testimony begins in Astoria, Oregon, where my grandparents immigrated to. They came over land and sea from Finland with eleven children to live among their relatives.

One day my granddad went to town and heard some Apostolic Faith people holding a street meeting. He stopped to listen. It was held, no doubt, in the Finnish language. He came home and told my grandmother, who was already a born-again Christian, what he had heard. My grandmother was so interested that she began to go to their cottage meetings. One time, she took me to one of those meetings, and when I returned home, I told my mother, “Don’t worry about Papa, I cried about him.” My father wasn’t a saved man. That was the beginning of my prayer life.

The Apostolic Faith Church in Portland, Oregon, became our church, but we lived about one hundred miles away. The only time we went to Portland was during camp meeting, or maybe once during Christmas.

As the years rolled by, some of my uncles and aunts became Christians. One of them lived right next door to where I was raised. My sister, Elsa, and I became very interested in the Gospel. We wanted to do all we could to hold up the standard.

My mother was a God-fearing woman who taught all of us children to fear the Lord as well. She planted the love of God in my young heart.

As a young girl, I had accepted with all my heart that Christ died for me, I had committed my life to Him, and I had even started to live by the standards of the church. However, in those tender years I did not fully grasp the meaning of salvation.

I thought I was a Christian, because I lived a good life. I didn’t think I had done anything that would keep me out of Heaven. But when I was twelve years old, God was faithful to my heart and showed me it took more than that. It took a real work of salvation wrought out by Him alone.

I had heard there was sanctification to be had, so when camp meeting came, I prayed at the altar for that experience. God intervened. He asked me a question that showed me I had never really been saved; I had never had an experience with Him. He asked, “When were you saved?” I couldn’t point to the place where I had received that experience. In that moment, I understood what His plan of salvation was really all about. I threw away that old profession and began to seek God for true salvation. He did not disappoint me. He saved me that camp meeting, and put a real know-so salvation in my heart. I am glad God gives us something real.  

Later, the Lord sanctified me and gave me His precious Holy Spirit. When I was through high school in 1934, I moved to Portland to be where I could attend the services. After a time, my mother followed.

The Apostolic Faith Church has meant everything to me. It has been a place of refuge. The altars mean a lot to me. Many times through the trials of life, I have thought, “I will just get down at the altar and pray it through.” I surely thank God that He brought me into this heavenly place.

When my husband and I, with our children, left to carry the Gospel to the dear people of Japan, I thought of the worthies of old. When they went to a new place, they erected an altar to God. I felt that wherever we went there would be a place of refuge, a place where we could pray through to God.

We had the privilege of being missionaries in Japan for nine and a half years. In going to a foreign land, we faced many different things, but God kept us. When we were home on leave one time, I wondered what would be ahead of us. My heart cried out to God, and He gave me this wonderful Scripture, “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee” (Hebrews 13:5). Christianity isn’t a one-time affair. It is an on-going affair. God leads, guides, keeps, and blesses. He gives victory. He has been with me. I am glad we have such a wonderful Savior.