Chapters: 1. Why Don't Men Obey God? |
2 MY FATHER
I believe God has had His hand on my father and mother since
they were born. Although I can only acquaint you with a tiny
portion of how God has worked with my parents and spared them, by
His kindness, I do have on record some of the events as they have
told them to me. If it had not been for God's faithfulness, I
would not be here to share with you this walk with Jesus. It is
truly only by God's grace that we have come this far.
Dad never tired of telling me how God miraculously spared
him from death when he was but a youngster:
"Daddy and Uncle Pete were going for gravel one day," he
recalls, "and you might remember the old gravel wagons--
they were long, heavy-bedded constructions with huge wheels.
One sat up pretty high in them.
"Well, I was sitting between Dad and Uncle Pete, and since
I was only two-and-a-half to three years old, Daddy told his
brother, `Now Pete, I want you to take care of Eldon.' So
he was trying to hold on to me as we jolted along.
"Suddenly, with the big team pulling hard against that
heavy load of gravel, the wheel came off on the right-hand
side. The wagon dropped fast and hit the ground with such a
jolt that Uncle Pete was hurled into the fence. I must have
been thrown forward directly under the horses, because the
first thing Pete remembers seeing when he stopped moving was
the freshly-shod hoof of the huge mare coming down right on
my head. Of course, the horse was excited and nervous
because of the accident. That hoof would have crushed my
head like a mallet."
23 "But quicker than lightning," Uncle Pete told me, "faster
than I have ever moved, my hand shot out, grabbed hold of Eldon's
foot, and pulled him out of the way just as the mare's hoof came
down." He told me a number of times that something far beyond him
helped him to get Dad out of there. Granddad had always chided
Uncle Pete for being slow and poky, but he never teased him
again after that day. Dad was spared only through the mercies of
the Lord.
About a year or two later my father experienced another
miraculous deliverance from death, this time through prayer. When
the large work horse he was riding stumbled, Dad suffered a
severe fall on his neck and back. At first there didn't appear
to be any permanent injury, but the next day he experienced
difficulty in walking. At evening time, while helping his father
feed the pigs, his legs buckled under him. Unable to get up, he
was carried to the house by his father.
Dr. Chenoweth took much time in examining him, I understand,
concluding that Dad had a creeping paralysis as a result of his
fall. He informed my grandfather William and grandmother Esther
Helm that their sixth child possibly might get better, but could
get worse; and Dad's condition worsened. He began to lose the
use of one part of his body and then of another. Soon he wasn't
able to talk, and then he couldn't swallow. Though they kept him
alive by injecting food and medicine into him, hardly a muscle of
his body moved. Even his eyelids were lifeless. Only his
breathing continued, slow and shallow. Three doctors said that
he could not live.
But Dad had an aunt, his mother's sister, who lived fourteen
miles away in Muncie. Aunt Zelpe lived close to God: she talked
with God. One day she appeared at the farmhouse door. "The Holy
Spirit has revealed to me," she told William and Esther, "that if
I come and pray for Eldon's healing, he will live. William,
would you have any objection if I pray for your son?"
24 Grandfather replied. "No--Dr. Chenoweth and the other
doctors have given him up. He is at the edge of death now."
So I am told that Aunt Zelpe moved into the Helm household,
spending most of her waking hours by my father's bedside. This
was to be her vigil of intercessory prayer for days to come: an
assignment she had never before attempted and was never called to
repeat for anyone else in her lifetime. It is said that she
would rub my fathers frail body and pray until she would collapse
to the floor in exhaustion. But in spite of her ministrations,
his condition worsened. His flesh was hardly noticeable against
the protruding frame of his skeleton.
Uncle Pete shared with me fifty years later that on three
occasions they called the family around my father's bedside: "If
you want to see Eldon alive," they said, "you'll have to hurry,
because it won't be long and he will be gone." Yet he lived on,
even when it became too painful to continue injecting him with
food and medicine.
One morning God revealed to Aunt Zelpe that the boy would be
healed if his mother would yield her heart to Jesus. She was
thrilled with the revelation and tried to speak with her sister
concerning her soul. But Esther seemed to sense something of the
nature of Zelpe's purpose and managed to avoid her for some time.
She would see her sister coming and go another way through the
house. Finally, Aunt Zelpe confronted her at the door leading
into the hallway. "Now Esther," she said, "do you want this boy
to live?"
Of course, my grandmother was perturbed by this question and
replied, "Why yes, Zelpe, you know I do."
"Well," her sister said kindly but firmly, "you must give
your life to Jesus so I can pray and have faith for this baby to
be raised up." Immediately Grandmother Esther dropped to her
knees and asked Jesus to forgive her and come into her heart.
Praying through to victory, she was converted and became so
happy, she shouted nearly all over the house. Esther was just a
little woman, a short Dutch
25 woman, but she was unable to contain the joy she experienced in
Jesus that day. I have heard it said that whenever there was a
cottage prayer meeting, my grandmother was often heard to shout
for joy in Jesus.
Since her sister had fulfilled her part in God's leading,
Zelpe returned to her intercession with renewed strength. Each
day she would pray for a specific part of my father's body to
receive help. She would first tell the family how she was going
to pray, and God would answer according to her prayer. On the
third morning she announced, "Eldon will call for something to
eat within the next twenty-four hours. I'm going to pray for his
appetite and his voice to return." All day she prayed. Then
that afternoon, a wonderful miracle took place--my father, who
hadn't been able to speak or swallow for many days, whispered, "I
would like some crackers and tea."
My grandparents were beside themselves with joy! Since
there was no tea in the house and not a cracker was to be found
either, William told Uncle Pete to saddle old Clyde (the same
horse Dad was riding when he fell) and ride as fast as possible
the two miles into Windsor for tea and crackers. Later that
night, Grandfather was holding my daddy in his arms, thankfully
feeding him crackers and tea.
People came from around that area to see the boy who was a
living miracle. As a very little girl, my mother can recall
standing between the carriage wheels when her grandmother and
grandfather Dickson said, " We have just returned from seeing a
little boy who was raised up from the edge of death by a life of
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