W.P. Hall

I came to Portland on a Saturday evening, checked into the Y.M.C.A. for the night, and then went for a walk down the street. I heard singing and joined a crowd on the corner to listen. I had never heard such Spirit-filled singing or such lively testimonies. I was so full of sin that it made me angry to hear them and I started to leave. A young man in the group saw me and handed me a tract as I was leaving. I walked away and then threw it down, but later, I went back and picked it up.

When I returned to my room, I took the tract from my pocket and read it. The Lord spoke to my heart, convicting me. When I awoke Sunday morning, I thought I had been a fool to even think the Lord could do anything for me. I dressed and went to meet a friend who would have led me deeper into sin. The Lord directed my steps, though. I had written my friend’s address on the tract. I did not know it, but the young man who had given me the tract had written the address of the tabernacle on it—I took the streetcar and followed the wrong address. When I got to the end of the line, the conductor said I would find the building about two blocks over.

I found myself at the tabernacle among the firs. The morning meeting was in session, so I went in and sat in the back. The young man who had given me the tract saw me and came and sat next to me during the service. At the close of the meeting, he pled with me to go to the altar, but I sat there frozen to my seat. Soon another lad joined him, and after forty-five minutes, I gave in and went down to the altar only because they had spent their lunchtime talking with me.

As they prayed for me, the devil suggested I knock their heads together. Just then they both opened their eyes and saw the look on my face. Without any hesitation or exchanging glances, they both quickly put their hands on my head and said, “In the Name of the Lord Jesus, come out of this man and let him go free!” I wilted as if hit on the head and then I cried for an hour—until the afternoon meeting started. Finally, I was delivered. Praise God!

I did not get involved with the person I had set out to see, but returned home a saved man. Since then I have served God in California and in Idaho, but those meetings at the tabernacle among the firs were the most wonderful I have ever attended.