6th MARCH, 1908.

 

DEAR MR. BODDY,

 

I know you will be glad to learn that I have received my Pentecost with its seal of the New Testament evidence. You will remember I was with you for a week-end and enjoyed it very much, and since that you have mingled in our prayers and in our remembrance continually. I know I ought to have come through when I was with you, I do not know what hindered, unless that I limited the power of the atoning blood of Christ, which alone gives entrance to the “Holiest of All.” But now, bless God the Lord, there is sufficiency in His Cross Work, symbolised by the Blood to restore to the image of God again.

I “came through” as it is called, not unaptly, for it is a coming through to the bleeding feet of Christ--in the kitchen of our dear brother, Mr. Andrew Murdoch, the Leader at the Westport Hall, Kilsyth, where perhaps 200 have been sealed. Not two of us come through alike, I was three hours on my back, and when I was in that lowly position, I stripped myself of every hindrance or anything that would in any way prove a hindrance, and offered my vows unto God, at any cost or with any price, but “Give me my Baptism.” I said, “Lord, I mean what I say, You will lift a corpse off this floor, but I will see you face to face in this Fiery Baptism.” I flung all shame and care to the winds, I feared nobody, I cared not what might be, only His work would be done in me. I was not long in that position when I found I had spiritual enemies hindering my getting through. I felt them. They were Iike an atmosphere in front of me.

 

I BEGAN TO PLEAD THE BLOOD.

 

I assured myself and Satan that it was the all-atoning Blood, and that Jesus was both Lord and Christ. I pleaded on. I felt myself making head way and renewed my plea of the Blood. Here I began to Iose all my English save the one word “Blood,” and that seemed getting away. When I began to get on the Bar and felt myself lifting and shaking, but moving forward, at this point, those who were looking on said I faltered twice, but another wave of power coming swept me right in to the sea of Pentecostal Fulness with its unmistakable seal. My English having gone and now, filled with God, I felt impelled to speak and praise God, so I began to speak in three different tongues, a few words in Hebrew, more in an East African Bantu tongue like Swahelli, and what was taken to be an Indian dialect. While in this condition I was taken to the 16th of Mark’s Gospel where the promise is, “these signs shall follow them that believe,” and then, in an unknown tongue, I went over the signs following, again and again God writing them on my mind as I went over that tongue. AIl this time I was enjoying the Lord, clapping my hands and praising Him. I wanted the people to leave the room, and to let me lie there till daylight in the morning, so much was I enjoying it, but I had no English to speak to them. I called to them in other tongues but they did not understand me, so, as the night (or early morning) wore on, I got up, staggering like a drunken man filled with new wine. The Comforter had come; the fire was burning in my breast, and the more desire I have for Him the more warm does this fire burn in my body. What is this but just the Holy Spirit in His Temple, like the old time fire that burned on the Altar of the Temple night and day. What is the outcome in my life? Just this--more of the Lord Jesus, more of His love, His tenderness, His prayerfulness, His love for the written Word, more desire to see others saved and love Him too. It makes a complete and utter separation from the world. It deals radically with the thought-life, every imagination being brought into captivity. It deals with levity, idle talking, undue newspaper or book-reading to the neglect of the Word of God. This Baptism is the one cure for all weak Christianity under whatever name it may shelter itself. No wonder Jesus charged His disciples to tarry until they were endued with power from on high. Hallelujah! the Fire has fallen, and now, Dear Brother, go on. You have been helping us all, even when you stood almost alone. This work no one can stay, God is marching on and sealing His own people.

Yours under His Seal, till He comes.

 

JOHN MARTIN

 

From: Confidence, No. 1, April 1908, pag. 12, 13, Sunderland, England

 

 

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