Wilbur Hunt

When I was just a boy, starting out in life, I did not know anything of the sins of the world, because my parents had been very faithful to me. They had taken me to Sunday school and church, and had told me what sin would do to me. They tried to tell me the right way to go, but I said, “I will go and see what the world has to offer.”

Although I had good parents, I was the most unsatisfied, unhappy young man who ever lived. I was bound by such a bad disposition that I could not get along with my brothers and sisters or even the stock on the farm. My brothers and sisters said they wanted to be Christians, but I did not want to be a Christian. I did not want to have any part in Christianity. The men that I associated with were blinded by the bright lights of the city.

One day, when still in my teens, I had the privilege of being in a little church service. Five people drove almost 100 miles to tell the story of Jesus and His love. At that time, there was no highway to travel on—only a lot of mud or snow. They did not let that bother them; they came out anyway and told the Gospel story.

This was a cottage meeting. They had rented a house in which to have a prayer meeting. They set up a street organ and began to sing some songs. It was not the first time that I had helped to sing the songs, but it was the first time that they had meant anything to me. I said to myself, “That is just what I want. I want reality, peace, and victory.” I am thankful that I did not wait until I was older. I felt the Spirit of God, and heard the call of Christ that night. I prayed and Jesus came into my life and planted a desire to know more of God. A few days later God sanctified me. On our farm on a hillside was a pine tree, and under that pine tree I prayed until God baptized me with the Holy Ghost and fire.

I am thankful that I have had the prayers of God’s people answered for me a number of times. I met with a serious accident, and it looked as if I would be a cripple the rest of my life, but God undertook and I was able to go back to work.

A few years later, from the effects of that accident, I was down on a bed of sickness. I lay in my home for several hours just like a dead man. Two of the ministers came and prayed for me. They did not know whether I would make it or not. One of the brothers said, “Yes, he will,” and they prayed again. God raised me up.

A short time later, I was fighting ulcers and had no strength. I went into chills and fever, and then had an attack of appendicitis. Again, God’s people prayed for me and God touched me and healed me. Why should I not thank Him for all that He has done for me? I have had almost forty years of happiness and victory. I am glad that I have the testimony that it is good to serve the Lord.