SUDDEN AND UNUSUAL ACTS OF GOD
INTRODUCTION
Often, God TRULY DOES work in mysterious ways His wonders to perform, for sometimes it takes "unusual occurrences" to SHAKE men and women into a wide-eyed awareness that Thou art bidding to save them RIGHT NOW! and after we die we shall Each and All of us give an account of our deeds to Him at the Judgment.
Herein, I shall present several accounts that poignantly illustrate how God works suddenly and unusually, both to execute Judgment upon the wicked and to bring Salvation to the penitent. PLEASE READ ESPECIALLY THE LAST STORY, A VERY MOVING AND POSITIVE STORY OF HOW GOD SAVED ONE BACKSLIDDEN SINNER IN KENTUCKY! -- Duane V. Maxey, April 22, 2015.
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01 -- A MOCKER IS SUDDENLY STRUCK DEAD!
This account, taken from hdm216, occurred during Revolutionary War days and the early days of Methodism in America. The chapel in Trenton, N. J., was occupied by English troops. That of Salem was not projected till about the close of the war; it was the fourth in the state after Bethel, Pemberton, and Trenton, and was hardly better than a barn. It was often besieged by mobs, till at last the magistrates interfered and protected the feeble Society. A profane club of the town continued the persecution, in burlesque imitations of the Methodist worship, but was suddenly arrested by an appalling occurrence in one of their assemblies. While they were amusing themselves with jocular recitations of hymns and exhortations, a female guest rose on a bench to imitate a Methodist class. "Glory to God!" she exclaimed; "I have found peace, I am sanctified; I am now ready to die!" At the last word she fell to the floor a corpse. The club, struck with consternation, never assembled again, and Methodism became eminently influential in the town and all its vicinity.
"He, (or She) that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy" (Proverbs 29:1).
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02 -- HE GOT THE DRINK HE ORDERED
This account is taken from hdm0551, as related by Paul Frederick Elliott.
Let me warn you tonight, as a Judgment-bound congregation, you cannot afford to mock God. Your soul is too valuable; eternity is too long; death is too sure. Two young men came into a meeting where I was raised, near my father's home. At first they seemed to be under conviction, just like some of you are now. Thank God, the Holy Ghost is faithful! Their proud hearts threw off the conviction. They came again, and had less. You may never have another bit of conviction after you leave this house tonight; and if God never speaks to your soul again you are as much damned as though you had been in hell for one thousand years.
They came again; this time without any conviction. The preacher was preaching from Revelation 14:10: "The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of His indignation; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb forever. And the smoke of their torment shall ascend upward forever and ever: and they have no rest day or night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the mark of His name."
Brother, Hell is an awful place! I pray God you may flee to the cross of Jesus Christ and have your sins all blotted out!
They began to laugh and make fun of "the wine of the wrath of God." The preacher spoke to them kindly; but their proud, devilish nature was stirred, and they left the room, crossed the street, and entered a saloon. The bartender said, "Boys, what will you have to drink?" One of them said, "I will have a drink of the wine of the wrath of God."
There was silence in that saloon. He poured out the red wine, raised it from the bar, but never put it to his lips, for he fell over backward -- dead; and "in hell he lifted up his eyes," to "drink the wine of the wrath of God" in all eternity.
"God . . hath no pleasure in fools" (Ecclesiastes 5:4)!
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03 -- THE TOMBSTONE REVIVAL
This account is by Raymond Browning, from his book, "The Healing Shadow," hdm0240.
A cousin of Dr. H. C. Morrison's lived in the blue-grass section of Kentucky. He was a handsome, attractive man but pleasure-loving and ungodly. He owned a fine farm, had a good home, and kept a string of race horses. One day he was riding on a spirited saddle horse when he came to one of those fine old country churches you often see in central Kentucky. They are usually painted white and have a tall steeple. Nearly always there is a large graveyard adjoining, and the place is enclosed with a white limestone fence.
Suddenly he reined up his horse and dismounted and walked into that churchyard. He had thought of a friend who had recently passed away and whose funeral he had been unable to attend. It occurred to him that he would like to see the grave. Soon he located it and there before him was the fresh-turned dirt, the withered flowers, and the new tombstone. He read the inscription. It was in the early Fall. Flowers were still in bloom and the mockingbirds were singing, and as he stood there in the quietude of that lovely churchyard he began to talk aloud.
He said, "Bill, old boy, I'm sorry for you. I'm afraid you've missed it. The trouble with you, Bill, is that you drank whiskey and played the races and went all the gaits -- just like I'm doing. Then you died -- just like I'm going to die; and you've gone to hell -- where I'm going. I'm sorry, Bill, but you've missed it."
He turned to walk away, and his eye fell on a tombstone that was tilted over a bit. The grave had sunk down and was matted over with honeysuckle vines. Out of curiosity he stooped to read the inscription. It was the grave of an old minister named Lasley. The man said, "I remember old Brother Lasley. It seems only yesterday, but it has been twenty-five years since he held a revival in that old church. I was just fifteen years old and I remember that I went to the altar one night. That seems strange now; but I was young then, and my heart was tender, and I cried. I haven't been to church in years, and I couldn't cry if I wanted too. My heart is as hard as a rock. I don't care for God nor man. I cried that night. Old Brother Lasley saw me and came around and put his hands on my head and prayed for me, and all the burden left me and I was happy. But all that is in the past and I just don't care.
"Life's a strange thing. I thought when I got my race horses that I would be happy, and now I sometimes wish they were all dead. I've got a good farm and a good wife and children, and yet I'm not happy -- but I know I was happy that night. I know I'm wrong and on my way to hell; but, bad as I am, I'd give every foot of Kentucky land that I own, every race horse on my farm, and every dollar I've got in the bank if I could go back twenty-five years and could get down at that altar once more and if old Brother Lasley could once more put his hands on my head and pray for me. If I could once more feel in my heart what I felt that night, it would be worth it all, but I can't. My heart is dead. I couldn't shed a tear if I wanted to."
He put his hand to his face and then looked at it in astonishment. "O Lord," he said, "just look at this. I'M CRYING." He started to take a step and his foot caught in the honeysuckle vines and he sprawled across that grave. He buried his face in his arms and prayed, "Lord, if I haven't gone too far, if there is any hope for a fellow like me, please take me back and let me feel once more what I felt in my heart when old Brother Lasley prayed for me."
Soon his wife heard him coming through the house like a storm. She had started into the dining room carrying a tray of dishes, when he met her and seized her in his arms, scattering chinaware all over the floor. He jumped and shouted and, as soon as his wife could get her breath, she said, "Husband, what in the world is the matter with you? Have you gone crazy?"
"No, honey," he said, "I'm not crazy. I'VE GOT RELIGION."
She said, "Dear, I'm so glad, but I didn't know there was any revival going on."
"Oh, yes, honey, A WONDERFUL REVIVAL! Old Brother Lasley and I had one down yonder in the graveyard."
The people had laid Brother Lasley to rest many years ago, but somehow they couldn't bury his shadow. No tomb can ever intern a good man's influence.
Do you remember that there is something like this in the Bible? In II Kings 13:21 we read about a time when the Israelites were burying a man and suddenly they saw in the distance a marauding band of Moabites approaching. Someone said, "We can't stop to dig a grave. What are we going to do with this dead man?" Another said, "Let's put him in Elisha's sepulchre." The Scripture says, "And when the man was let down, and touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood upon his feet." I imagine he beat his pallbearers home because he didn't have to walk to the funeral as they did.
Friends, if Jesus tarries, one of these days you and I will be carried to the graveyard and laid to rest until there comes that trumpet call of the first resurrection; but, if we have lived in the will of the Lord, the precious healing shadows will remain. Hallelujah!
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IN CONCLUSION
Backslidden, Sinner Friend, did this marvelous story touch YOUR heart? Then maybe it's not too late for YOU to have a revival too -- RIGHT NOW! -- RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!"
"Precious Lord, You see that backslidden, but hungry soul out there. You see those tears streaming down his (or her) face. In John 6:37 you said, "him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." As that hungering, weeping, penitent soul humbly asks for your forgiveness, won't you wrap your arms of Love around this one? Through your blood, wash away every sin, and sweep back into this heart! In Your Merciful and Loving Name I pray, Amen." -- Duane V. Maxey, April 22, 2015.
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