Greetings, beloved Word Bride, in the precious name of Jesus Christ.

I have been back from Haiti now for over two weeks but have only just now had an opportunity to type this report. My first thought was a hot shower as I had not had one in over 30 days. In a country where there is little or no electricity...what they do have is unreliable...there is none of the convenience that we take so much for granted. Only in the major city of Port Au Prince is there electric. This is necessary to run the government, such as it is. But it is not 24/7 by any means.

Next, was a Big Mac. (It could have been a Burger King or Shoney's...anything greasy, loaded with condiments and American. The Haitian food is good, palatable, but not exactly to the American taste. The Haitian's are a lovely people and they offered me their finest and best, God bless them, but, as one Haitain sister, now living in America for several years said, "When I go to Haiti for several weeks, I want a hamburger when I return, too," We are spoiled.)

As I recall the incredible events which I witnessed our Lord Jesus perform to vindicate His Word, I am awed and humbled. As I attempt to record them, I am staggered at the task. In no way could I, with mere words, present the wonders of our Perfect Lord Jesus and His love and mercy, His marvelous grace. I will do my best, Him helping me, to share with you my experiences but only on that great Day when we are gathered together to review His Word performed will the entire Truth be known. My prayer is that you and I will stand and see that great 'video' of God's Plan together.

As you all know, God spoke to me in my bedroom in June of 2002 as I was praying. He said, "Get up, and go to Haiti. I have sent you Wilner as a guide." Bro. Wilner Laguerre is our song leader. He is Haitian and his family is still in Port Au Prince. Our brother is, at present, on the front lines in Iraq as a soldier in the U.S. Army, 3rd Battalion. But at the time of God's call to Haiti he was here with us in Oklahoma City. He had come to us from Bro. Michael Eastman's church in New York, transferred to Lawton to join an armored battery at Ft. Sill.

You have all heard it described how that he prophesied to my church, away from my hearing, that God would send me to Haiti. (I only learned of this as he testified over there and it was interpreted to me from Kreyole by a Haitian minister. I later inquired of my Church and they, of course, verified it to me. He had said that God had told Him not to tell me because I would think it was 'politics' and would refuse to go. I had already turned down two trips to other places because of church politics...they would not take me into the field, only to preach in their convention.) I did not even know, actually had never considered it, where Haiti was in the world. But God had a place for me there.

So, as you know the story from the former witness on Paltalk and elsewhere, how that was. Hundreds and hundreds of people...the first meeting was in Port Au Prince where I preached to around 1200. Healings and miracles and prophecies and visions.........you all know it's true. A wonderful people of great and lasting faith. Genuine faith in God's Word.

Then, I returned in November to the convention, where there were an estimated 18,000 and I remained there for a month going into the interior and working with the ministers to establish the Church. There had been some division because of 'influence' from America....but that was soon healed by the Word. One of the leading pastors, a wonderful man of God and an outstanding pastor and example, said, "We had division before, but now we have something that we all believe." It was another wondrous time in the grace and power of the Lord Jesus. I was still receiving reports of the miracles and baptisms from those meetings while I was preparing to return this June. I would love to review the events that transpired in detail but that would not be possible in this time and space. As it is, this report will be long in the preparing. Most of you are aware of these things already from the Paltalk and the tapes. I do have some pictures from this former time which I will share with you. The few pictures that were taken, of the lovely jungle where we spent the most of our time this trip, did not turn out due to my inexperience as a photographer. (Ha! I am the one who thought a microwave was a hairstyle some years ago.) We will be more careful on the return trip as we plan to visit some of the same places again in November to further establish the churches there. I will attempt to photograph them again at that time.

The first week was spent in Port Au Prince with the lovely family of Bro. Levael Eugene who is my dearest friend and companion there. This lovely Christian family has adopted me and I am one of them. I am completely 'at home' with them. Several events occurred which I will not attempt to describe involving church politics and 'influences' that might have caused another division were it not for the Hand of the Lord. Now, I would never want to report anything that might reflect on another ministry or in any way be disparaging of another brother. God help me never to do such a thing! So, I will only report those things which magnify the Lord Jesus and further the kingdom of God. Those of you who are aware of such things, I urge you to be careful in your words and in your attitudes. God is running His kingdom and at all times all is well...He is in control.

One outstanding thing that took place in Port Au Prince, or nearby, during that time I will now relate. There is a place called Petionville (?) on the outskirts of Port Au Prince.

(Many of these names are difficult to pronounce let alone spell. And, as Kreyole...'Creole' is the American spelling...is not a written language, spelling is uncertain, at best. As the ministers will testify, Kreyole is a SPOKEN language. Only in the last decade has an attempt been made to place it in written form. This is very difficult as Kreyole developed from several languages including French, Spanish, English,...and there are various dialects included. Haiti is traditionally a French colony and that was the original language. That is the language taught in school and those who can read read French. However, the great bulk of the populace cannot read at all. But they SPEAK Kreyole. Only a very small minority of those who can read can read Kreyole. And, as one Minster testified publicly, "We can read five pages in French while trying to read 1/2 page in Kreyole." It is a very difficult, developing, language. Not the SPOKEN form, which even I am able to learn, but the new written form. And, I have been informed by the Haitian brethren that I don't even speak English, but rather, "Arky". I was told I am difficult to interpret for because of this. So, please forgive my spelling throughout.)

Petionville is the place I told about on the last trip. There our Lord Jesus performed several outstanding miracles. One of them was the one reported by email where a pastor had a cancer dissolved. He had come to the meeting and was in the habit of rubbing a huge cancerous growth on his head behind his ear. At the close of the service I adjured Satan to come out of the people and spoke of cancer specifically...as you all know that we have had some 30 documented cases of cancers healed in our ministry. The pastor had gone home rejoicing in the Lord and while driving had reached up to rub his tumor....only to find it gone! Praise the Lord Jesus for His wonderful Word!

I was anxious to return there as there is great faith in this place and they love the Word of the Day. So, we fixed it up to go there on Tuesday afternoon. (Services are held usually beginning around 4:00-5:00 pm in Haiti.) It was about an hours drive in Haitian traffic which is a frightening experience to an American new to the country. I hope to never have to drive there. I prefer to take a 'cab'...and that is another experience which is indescribable.

Now, I had met a Haitian man, who spoke quite good English which was surprising, in the airport that morning. He was originally from Petionville and when he learned that I was preaching there that afternoon had asked to go along. This was a denominational brother who had only become a Christian recently and who desired to know more of the things I had shared with him at the airport.
He, and a friend, accompanied us that day. After having been a part of the events I shall shortly describe, he embraced the Message as delivered by the Prophet William Branham, the Word of the Day we teach, and has been baptized and attends services all over the city..."every time the door is opened", as Bro. Branham said. I do not know what happened to his girlfriend who seemed not to be impressed at all, but rather, anxious to be off and away. I have not heard tell of her again. Perhaps she remained in the denomination...I hope not.

This is what happened. In order to get to the church it is necessary to pass thru an open bazaar filled with people selling their goods in little open stalls, scattering chickens and pigs, and then to cross a water-filled ravine. Like all of the city's waterways it is no more than an open sewer. There is, at most times, a rather narrow stream running thru it which is crossed by skipping over the rocks...carefully. I described this place last time. But this time it was different.

It began to rain on the way up and this was alarming. In Haiti there are no sewers or drainage systems so that the rain quickly turns to flooding. All of the water concentrates on the streets which is the only path thru the houses and hills. When we arrived at the place where we must cross the ravine it was a raging torrent. The water was high and roaring downstream so that it would quickly have washed away anyone attempting to cross. At least, that is how it appeared. Hundreds of people were filling the place and no one dared to cross. Up on the hill just across the way we could hear the hundreds of voices singing familiar songs in Kreyole. Selma Keyli...Only Believe. Or, in French, "Bene suir le nom"..."Blessed be the name"....etc; Suddenly someone looked out of the window where they were sitting because of the crowding and waved us on. But it was obvious we could not proceed. Bro. Levael was on the verge of tears thru disapointment. He felt responsible to get me there and it seemed hopeless now. We sent brethren out into the crowd to inquire if there was another way over. Now, some of those people had lived right there in that place, night and day, for their whole lives and all said, "there is no way". A few attempted a crossing and were turned back. All seemed lost. I walked to the edge and prayed. "Lord Jesus," I said, "You sent me here. Help us, Lord. Make a way for us."

As I prayed I heard a woman shouting, "Shalom! Shalom!" This is the greeting of the Believers and I thought, 'Now, that's a Believer.' Sure enough. A woman appeared from the crowd soaked as were we all, mud on her best shoes to the ankles as she made her way. "Come, come" she said in Kreyole. She then led us back to our truck where we all piled in and she directed us up the road about a half mile or more. There we saw a bridge crossing the ravine. Why the others were unaware of this is still a mystery, but we parked and she led us across. Now what? We were across the ravine on the other side, but we were a half mile from the church and there was a regular maze of dwellings between. Oh, bene suir le nom de Segnuer! We proceeded from there up alleyways, over rooftops, and fences.......a person would appear and place a ladder on the fence, we would climb up, pull the ladder over and climb down the other side. We would then cross thru a yard and someone would come out and open a gate and lead us further along. Across yards, up steps, thru narrow passages...even thru homes. People, pagans, many who knew nothing of the Lord Jesus Christ, opened their hearts and their homes to point us ever on until we reached our goal. Now I was nearly weeping from the experience of it all. Somehow, after we had gone about two-thirds of the way, the pastor of the church appeared. Someone had gone ahead to tell him we were coming. Before long we reached the church. As I entered the people were standing and worshipping the Lord...and, I'm told, people were being healed in that atmosphere of faith as the Holy Spirit claimed the victory. I hadn't prayed or preached as yet...but God was performing a mighty work and vindicating His Word even before it was delivered. My, what an atmosphere to preach in! It was wonderful...and only got better and better. Many testimonies came forth out of that time as God healed, saved, and delivered the people. One of them was the young man who had accompanied us the entire route. He hung on every word that was preached. Amen!

On Wednesday night I preached for Bro. Conserve, a great leader among the pastors, one of the two I have already mentioned. And, on Friday night I preached for the other man, Bro. Gill Lamoth.
This brother is the "father" of the message churches and is a powerful preacher and an outstanding Christian. He is a true man of God and I am honored to know him and his family.

While waiting to preach at Bro. Conserve's God directed me to a previously unfamiliar Scripture. Unfamiliar in that I had never preached on it, nor had it ever stood out to me before. But it came on my heart..........'read Isaiah 52:8'. This became a theme for me in Haiti and it is a true representation of the work there.

"Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice; with the voice together shall they sing: for they shall see eye to eye, when the LORD shall bring again Zion." {ISAIAH 52:8}

Zion, of course, is the Church. The watchmen (plural) are those whom God has placed over His heritage to guard their souls and lead them. Many 'watchmen' but only ONE VOICE. It says, THE Voice. WatchMEN shall lift up THE Voice. With THE Voice TOGETHER shall they sing. We sing before the preaching in order to be in the same accord...we are all saying the same thing at the same time. "For they shall all see EYE to EYE, when the Lord shall bring up Zion." Hallelujah!
Never, in America, have I found so many believers who saw eye to eye and preached in one accord. God has consolidated nearly fifty churches (over 130 ministers)...that I know about, there may be more there, yet...into ONE VOICE seeing EYE to EYE on the Word of the Day. Amen!

Now, I must mention La Gonave here, though I never made it there until the final days of the trip. Those of you who know about my last trip will recall my testimony about La Gonave. La Gonave is an island just off the coast of the main island. Haiti is one-third of the island of Hispanola, the rest being now called the Dominican Republic. There are three islands altogether that make up Haiti. (Some of you will recall the prophecy spoken over me concerning three islands some four or five years ago which I discussed with Bro. Carroll in Tennessee and told all over everywhere.) The third island is Tortue, which means Turtle. It is off the northern coast and visible from Port de Paix.

You will recall that I told the brethren on my last trip that as soon as I returned from Port de Paix that the Lord had directed me to go to La Gonave. You will also recall that they would not take me. It was told over and over upon my return last time. This is what happened. At first,it was agreed upon. But, after my return it was decided that I should take a whirlwind tour thru the main island. I did not mind the rigors of the schedule, I had asked them not to let me waste even one day without preaching the Word, but I told them again and again that the Lord wanted me to go to La Gonave. I was very upset by their refusal, but had no choice. Then, as I reported, I went to the first of the places, Leogane, and we had wonderful success there. Many were healed that night, but I grew sick. And sicker, and sicker. By the time I got back to Port Au Prince I was in a stupor from fever and remained that way for three full days. One of the brethren, Bro. Levael's brother, was a doctor and he treated me at home in Bro. Levael's house. He took blood samples and had them analyzed at the hospital where he worked...my red blood cell count was critically low and my white cells where enormously high. I had a massive infection which turned out to be a form of Typhus. I nearly died. Even when I returned to the U.S. I had to continue treatments and was six weeks or more in convalescing before I was restored to health. When the fever passed the crucial point after three days and I became coherent, I called the brethren in. I told them I believed this had happened because I had not obeyed the Lord. The Holy Spirit witnessed this and we all began to weep and repent. The brethren then assured me that we would go to La Gonave first thing on my next return...some feared I would not return because of the danger of the water. This is the truth and is well-known by all there. So, I was to go to La Gonave first of all when I left Port Au Prince.
But, this did not happen. Somehow, the trip was cancelled at the last minute. The regular interpreter took ill, I was told, and no one could be found right away to replace him. We discovered later, however, that there was some politics in play and it involved money. More on that later.

When the trip to La Gonave was cancelled I had that entire weekend unscheduled. I had planned a four day visit to Port de Paix at the end of my time and had no intention of canceling that. However, I called the brethren there and explained the situation. They told me to come on up there, even though I would only have two days and many would not be able to come because of the distance of travel. (Most have to walk many miles often thru the jungle to attend.) This I did. And, though the church was full (an estimated 500-600) we were only able to have one service due to a funeral. One of the brethren, flesh brother to my interpreter on the video shot there, had died and his funeral was to be held that afternoon....which I attended. Port de Paix is a major northern city and as a result of the rescheduling many who wanted to be there and would have been were denied. I am sorry for that. We had a fine meeting as you can see in the video, but I would have liked to have stayed over. The pastor, Bro. Duvall is a wonderful man and he has a wonderful revelation of the Word of the Day. This I could not do. I caught the plane back on Monday. Bro. Billie Gaston is my friend and contact there.

When I stay in Port de Paix I do so in the home of brother Eddie Balthazar. Eddie is responsible for several churches in the interior which he has founded and he services them much as it was done in the early days in America. Eddie is a "circuit WALKING" preacher. His lovely wife and children are also "family" for me there. It was Bro. Eddie that I joined in New Orleans last week to help establish a new church in Gretna, La. I will be going there periodically until the Lord raises them up a pastor.

It was necessary for me to return on Monday to meet the schedule for the trip to the interior. We went then to the Central Highlands of Haiti. My, it was a replica of Vietnam..only no one was shooting at us. Such a beautiful place. Haiti must have been, before the destruction of so much of the country by its rulers and the pollution caused by 8,000,000 humans, a paradise. There are no wild animals of any kind and no poisonous snakes. (I was told they do have snakes there, though they are harmless...and no one I met had seen one.) The children can wander freely thru the jungle with nothing to fear, except man.

The people are very sociable and caring of one another. I have seen a woman with a huge basket of goods lay it down on the open street, go away for nature reasons, and return to find it exactly as she left it. Someone, whoever was nearby, would then help her to reinstall it upon her head, and she would pass on calling out her wares. Men, as well as women, are seen holding hands to guide each other thru the massive traffic caused by both vehicles and pedestrians. And the elderly and children are assisted without hesitation. Yet, if you are a visitor...do not fail to lock your car when you leave it and take whatever is valuable with you. Haiti is a very poor country and can be dangerous for foreigners. Seventy-nine percent are unemployed. There are thieves in Haiti, also.

In Central Haiti, we held meetings throughout the week beginning at 4:00 am. Since the people here work in the fields they begin at daylight. However, the Christians sacrificed a few hours daylight for services. We had two services per day. The first at 4:00 am until 6:00 am. Then they would go to the fields. At 4:00 pm we began again, often going until 8:00 pm. Then, the people would walk home, or lay down at a neighbors house nearby, and rise at 2:00 am to attend service. How ashamed I was of the Believers in America who stay away from church at mid-week service or even on Sunday. These people walk miles over rough terrain to sit outdoors in all weather to hear the Word of God. No wonder Bro. Branham said: ". If I had to say so, the place needs missionaries worse than any place in the world is the U.S.A., the United States of America. The greatest bunch of heathens that I know of anywhere is in America. "Heathen" means "unbeliever."

Oh, they believe theology. They're so calloused and drug back till you can't speak to them in no way. I can take a man out there, never heard of God, worshipping an idol, and do more with him in five minutes than you can do with a fellow that professes to be a Christian, an old mossback something that's hung along and had a lot of this embalming fluid, and jerked into his veins."

Or, this one from EL SHADDAI, 1959. "Why, the United States is combed over and over and over by so many evangelists, until it's just burnt territory. That's the truth. America has absolutely sinned away its day of grace. You mark it down on a book. You'll never have a universal revival in America. It passed that about three years ago. It'll never be a revival. Some of you young people, mark my word down for that. There'll never be a nationwide revival, no more, like the Billy Sunday days and so forth. You'll have little spurt ups, like that, till Jesus comes, but it'll never be.

God has turned from it and gone to the foreign nations. There's where the people come. One sign from the Lord done; thousands will run to the altar of heathens. And it can be done over and over to this bunch of Americans, that's been taught this way, that way, and all confused, and never stop to look in their Bible."

On the weekend, hundreds came in. Most of them walking, thru the jungles, on rough and rocky roads, or riding on the 'bus' partway. These buses, which we took later going to La Gonave, and which I had tried to avoid, flying to Port de Paix instead of the eight hour bus ride, are always loaded down to overflowing capacity. And, there are always some passengers holding a chicken, or even a baby pig. Even on the boat ride to La Gonave we were jammed together and the man next to me held a rooster which seemed to be constantly flogging my face with his tail. But, as I have said most of them walked all the way, all of them at least part of the way. (I, myself, walked to church during the week) And thus it was the night of the storm.

We held service in a building that consisted of four concrete block walls with the steel rods protuding upward from within the blocks. No roof. Because there is no electricity we carried our own generator with us...and, of course, a five gallon water bottle for the American missionary. (The water is very dangerous for those who have not grown up drinking it. It seems if you survive on it you are somewhat immune...though it is a constant problem for all.) Because of the electronic equipment...loudspeakers and recorders and the generator...they had constructed a partial covering over the place. This consisted of a canvas about one-third the size of the roof which was erected in the center toward the front rows just off the platform. The platform was open, as was most of the building, but this tent would serve as security for our equipment in a storm. It was held up by a large pole as big around as a man which was partially buried and covered all around by massive stones. Other stones were nearby for extra ballast. This was tied off with wires to the steel rods that protruded from the blocks. It was crude but nice. On the platform was the inevitable drawings of the Church Ages and the Pyramid of the Stature of a Perfect Man...le homme Parfait, along with our equipment and a pulpit. The tent seemed out of place on such a lovely evening. The weather was beautiful...the sky perfectly clear.

Some 500 yards away from this place, however, was a voodoo priest hut. Here several voodoo priests lived and conjured...practising their witchcraft. And, this is serious business as you will see. I learned later, from Bro. Guy Lamoth, that we were in the very heart of the voodoo demonics. The people here are nearly all followers of these priests. Only the Message Believers are not. And, of course, their influence badly provokes the priests.

Bro. Branham said: "Now, you'd better not be just kidding. You'd better know what you're talking about. And with witch doctors in Africa, voodoo man in India, they'll challenge you. But if you really love Him, don't be scared. He said, "I'll be with you." Oh, I've never seen it fail and it won't fail." LOVE 1958

"You... When you go to a place like that you better know what you're talking about, 'cause they'll challenge you to it just at any time. And you better be sure that God sent you. You don't play church there. You have to really have what you're talking about. It's all right here in America, but don't never try to hit the field 'less you're really positive. And then in Africa and those witch doctors, and so... They're--they're spiritualists. They don't just fool with some psychology; they're--they're demon-possessed and they have power, and it takes... Only the power of God can override it. And I've never seen a time though, but what our great and glorious Lord Jesus rode over the top of all of it, and won the victory every time. I say that as His servant, in His Name." GREATER.THAN.SOLOMON.IS.HERE 1963

"I'll be going in the mission fields now, if the Lord willing, this winter, when I get back off these trips. So be in prayer for me, because here it's easy. Once in a while you see a foul spirit come into a meeting and try to disturb, but in them places, that's witch doctors and devils. You'd better know what you're talking about. Certainly had. 'Cause they're demons, and they'll challenge you right down. But oh, how... Not one time (I say it with my hand here at my Bible) not one time--and you know, you can imagine how many times around the world it's been challenged--but what God moved in on the scene and pulled the curtains back and showed Himself God, just the same as He was in Elijah's time. He's still God. See? Not one time...That's the reason I... Some of you... Some ministers come and asked me to come to their places. I wait till I feel led to go. Then if I come, I'm just coming in my own name (if I come like that), just to be your friend. But when I feel led to come, then I can come in the Name of the Lord Jesus. Set your feet off that plane, she belongs to you. Amen. I take it all over in the Name of Jesus Christ. Then you're to meet Him out there then, because you're God's ambassador then. But now when some church, friends, here, some friends calls for you, or something, you're just going presuming again." CONCERNED.AND.CONVINCED 1962

That afternoon as I sat watching the people file in from everywhere, hundreds of them, I thought of the sacrifice they had made to come here. Many of them traveling all night thru the jungle or riding all day on those awful buses...coming down, packing their children with them, dressed in their finest clothes. I saw one brother and his family that reminded me of myself when I was his age. He and his wife had five children about a year or so apart, and all with Bible names. David, and Rachel, and Deborah, and Paul...whatmore. They were dressed in their finest clothes...he had on a white shirt and tie and I was wearing jeans and a bright western shirt. I thought, 'Maybe I should have brought a suit'. The people filed in reverently and the music started. A tape played soft piano and organ music just as we do here at home. The people squeezed onto the bare wooden benches lined on both sides with an aisle in the middle. On one bench at the front were ministers, another held musicians. One man had what looked like a muffler pipe complete with holes. It was actually a homemade instrument..and it made a unique, exotic sound. Others had tambourines and one or two had a stringed instrument like homemade guitars. Many of them throughout the building held two sticks which they would rub together and make music. And everyone could make music with their hands. My! My heart was moved at their sincerity and their simple faith...their love for our Lord Jesus and his prophet. And then Satan made his play.

Suddenly, out of nowhere there came a tremendous wind. The canvas whipped up and the pole leaned as to fall. At the same time the sky turned dark and ominous and there was moisture in the air. It was so sudden and so terrifying...I never saw a storm like it. It looked supernatural. And it was. About eight brethren rushed to support the pole and then it really broke hard. That canvas was fanned by powerful wind...so powerful that one of those steel rods was bending and another was being pulled thru the mortar of the block. The air filled with an ominous rumble and flicks of rain began to spit. It got worse and worse.

Now, this is my testimony, and I must give answer for every word. I watched as the people began to mill around, the brethren wrestling that pole like a calf roper trying to dog a steer. (What I did not know until later was that while I was out there praying, one of those rods broke loose and pitched two brethren out the door nearly killing them.) But, I saw those rods bending, those blocks bursting, the wires whipping around and people trying to get out of the way. Brethren snatched at the whipping wires to prevent them knocking out the peoples eyes and a half dozen or more were wrestling that center pole as others piled on more rocks. I saw that, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and slipped out back to pray.

I was filled with mixed emotions. I wasn't afraid, more angry and desperate. I knew that was the devil. I just knew it. I never seen a storm like that and I've been in tornados and hurricanes...this was different than anything I ever seen. I was weeping thinking of all those precious people walking all those miles and the devil trying to steal their joy and their blessing. I stood out there in the wind and talked to God. I said, near as I can remember, "Lord Jesus, I flew here in an airplane because You sent me. But, Lord, them people walked miles thru the jungle to get here. They came here to hear You're Word...to worship You. Oh, God of heaven, I'm going back in there. I'm going to have those people stand and raise their hands to You, Lord. And I'm going to rebuke that storm...that devil. Lord, will You stop it for me...for us?"

And God told me, "You do what is in your heart!" I hurried back inside and took my seat.

Then the devil came to me in my mind. I thought, "Just who do you think you are? You're a sinner. You're just a man...a nobody." In my mind I answered, "I'm a son of God" "Why, you little smart alecky, you stand up before all those people and go on like that....I'll blow that tent all the way into the Dominican Republic, and you'll be a laughing stock. You'll go out of Haiti with your head down and everything you've done, everything you've said will fail. Just go on up there and preach...you can't control the weather. It ain't your fault if the meeting is cancelled. You just act normal...the idea!"

I knew that was the devil because God said, "Do what is in your heart!" So, about that time they called me up. The wind was still howling, the rain falling. I said, "Everyone stand up and lift your hands to heaven." The interpreter told it. The people stood up. I said, "It can rain tomorrow. It can rain later on tonight. But it can't rain now because we are in a meeting." I'm not sure if that was interpreted or not, because I then rebuked that storm in the name of Jesus Christ and called for it to stop. And it did. Before hundreds of witnesses, the wind ceased, immediately. The rain stopped. People went to shouting praises. And then, I started preaching. I was an hour into the message when it dawned on me what a beautiful night it was. What had happened. A big full moon and a cool breeze. Many slept on the ground that night under the stars. When I realized it, I was caught up in the message at the first, I said something about it and...My! the shouting and the commotions started all over. Praise the Lord! God bear me witness that is the truth.

Now right here I want to stop and tell something that happened later, here in America. I had told that story several times here. (I never hardly needed to tell it over there. It was noised abroad by all the people.) And, I was greatly humbled and I was sort of worried about what the preachers would say. (I have been criticized in times past for telling such things. And, sometimes, the preachers are the worst critics of all.) I was on my way to the church, my church, in Oklahoma City. And I got to talking to the Lord about it.

Coming down the road, I said........(I got to tell it honest. And it's hard. It was private, but to make the point I got to let you know what it was.) I said, "Lord, I really am the very chiefest of sinners. Nobody but You knows, Lord, the things that come to my mind. The thoughts I have, the mistakes I make. The things I do that I don't mean to do, the things I don't do that I know I should. God, that's right... I am a nobody...without You."

And, now that is the truth. And I thought to myself about how the preachers would say, "Oh, yeah. Paul. Un,huh. He done this and that"....and some of it is correct. I did. I repented, but I did some awful things in times past. Now, they tell some things that aren't true...but they don't know about other things that are. God knows, though. And, I know. So, I was thinking about that.

And I said, "Lord, how could You do it? I mean, that don't prove me right, but them people will criticize. And I have been such a reproach to You. How could I ever even think that You would do that. Where did I get the nerve to, the audacity to even ask it of You? Such a sinner. I can't even hardly see how I can get in, sometimes." (Course, we have had that conversation before. He come to me once after I said that and said, "Can You see Me in there?" I said, "Sure, Lord, You are the Rapture." Then He said, "Can You see you in Me, Me in you?" And then I got it. If I could see me in Him, I would have to be in the Rapture because He was the Rapture. He is eternal so if I'm in Him I, too, am eternal. That fixed that. And, so I remembered that.) But, I was still troubled that I could have had the nerve to ask that. Then He said, "But I told you to do what was in your heart!" See? I did.

He put that in my thinking, in my mind. He caused me to think about that, to ask Him for it. I thought about Bro. Branham that day with them squirrels. He never asked for them squirrels. He was squirrel hunting, sure. But he never thought nothing of not getting any. God came down and talked to him. Said, "What you doing, Bill." Hallelujah! Bill. My! He said, "Where's your squirrels?"

Now, I want you to notice. How was God talking to Bro. Branham? I realize that God spoke to Bro. Branham 'lip to ear' as he did Moses. I know he heard Him speak audibly at times. But God speaks to me in my thoughts...he probably does the same for you. And, even when Bro. Branham heard Him speak "just like you hear me", he said, he kept saying, I "THOUGHT" this, that, the other. See? When God spoke to Noah, did He do so audibly? Did God set him down and describe the Ark and all it's parts? Or, did he form up the plan in Noah's mind? Moses saw the Tabernacle in a vision. But wouldn't he have to rethink it as he went along...in his mind? Bro. Branham never called for them squirrels until God told him to do it.

God put that into my mind to do that and all I did was what He put in my heart to do. I just did, "what is in your heart!" That's it. It was all God. And, of course, it don't show nothing about me, it only proves that what I was saying is the truth. His Word.

You know what my thought was to preach on that night? It was over there where Bro. Branham said, (pg. 15 in the Church Age Book) "Remember this. Christ in the True Church is a continuation of the Book of Acts. If the people get a True Revelation of the True Church and what she stands for and what she is, and that She Can Do the Greater Works she will be an invincible army and the devil will be powerless before her." (Now that's not exactly all of it, just as I remember it.) That was what I had in mind on my way to church that night. He is the same yesterday, and today, and forever.

He said, in COUNTDOWN, Shreveport, 1962: "Come go, brother. Come go, sister. Be sure. Don't--don't take no chances. Don't depend just on some Lutheran experience, or Methodist experience, or a Pentecostal experience. Let's come on up into the heavenlies now, up into the righteousness of God, up into His power, up to see that Christ can come into you, and manifest Hisself as same as He did when He was here on earth. Do you believe that? I believe He's the same yesterday, today, and forever."

And he also said:
"Now, Jesus Himself said, "At the day when the Son of man is being
revealed..." in other words, "the Son of man, the ministry of Jesus Christ
Hisself."
The church will come through justification, through Luther; through
sanctification, through Wesley; through the baptism of the Holy Ghost, or
the Pentecostals; and grow right on into the perfection of the Son of man,
that when Husband and Wife will be the same-self persons. God will be so
manifested into His Bride, His church, till they'll both be the same. They
are one. Now, you see where we're at."

GOD'S.PROVIDED.PLACE.OF.WORSHIP 1965

"We're not living in a Pentecostal age; we're living in another age. See? We're
not living in a Methodist age; we're living in another age. We're living on
up here to the Bride age, the calling out of the church and getting it
together for the rapture. That's the age that we're now living. To my
honest opinion that's exactly the truth." MODERN.EVENTS.MADE.CLEAR.BY.PROPHECY 1965

"In that day the Son of man will be revealed." Amen. The Son of man will be revealed in a body of flesh, you people the church, just exactly like it was before the days of Sodom, a called-out group away from all of them, setting out, believing the promise of God. Glory.
WORKS IS FAITH EXPRESSED 1965

My friends, I am just stubborn and ignorant enough to believe that. Selma Keyli! That is the truth!

From there we went to La Gonave, finally. But not without the devil trying to stop us again. I came back on Thursday because I was to preach at Bro. Guy Lamoth's place on Friday. We were to leave at daylight on Saturday for La Gonave. I was disappointed that our time was so short, I had to be back on Sunday night to catch the early plane on Monday. I didn't have the money to change the ticket...the penalty. (Of course, I could have gotten it, I suppose, from the Church or somewhere, but I didn't feel right about that. So....)

When I got to Bro. Guy Lamoth's he had a message on his heart. I was tired and he knew it. We had been in the jungle and traveling on the buses and the boat. I welcomed the chance to hear him. So he preached. And, brother, such a message. (I used the text and the thought in my church Sunday before last.) I sat and heard the Word of the Day preached back to me as I had never had it. I never could have done it so good. Probably didn't, even in my own church. And, Bro. Guy Lamoth announced to the church that I would leave at 6:00 am for La Gonave. The brethren were to honor this arrangement and he wanted to make sure there was no mix-up.

But, the mix-up came anyway. I arose at 4:00 am and was already packed and ready. I had a breakfast of Zui (eggs) and "plume de Tuere" (which is French for potatoes...cause I don't know the Kreyole word.) just as I might here in America. Only it was cooked in a deep pan over charcoal outside. But it was as good a breakfast as one might ever need. I washed it down with juice and was ready to go. Six o'clock came, then seven. I was restless, but not discouraged because I know how laid back people are in Haiti. I figured they would show up eventually. Then it was eight o'clock and Bro. Levael was worried. I told him I just figured it was what I called the 'Haitian way of it' but he said, "No. They should have, would have been here for this one." Then I got worried. So, we drove out to Bro. Pierre's place. Bro. Peter (which is the English for Pierre and I like it better for this brother, as you will see why) was the brother who was to take me to La Gonave. Now here is the trouble...politics. The churches in Haiti are poor but they support their own works. It turned out that the church of Bro. Guy Lamoth had apportioned money to send me to La Gonave...three brothers. Bro. Peter, who had started the work, myself, and Bro. Mimou, my interpreter. But, there was another brother who had filled in for Bro. Pierre recently and he had insisted that he go along. I still don't know who this brother was but they did. Well, Bro. Mimou had come down with a sore throat, as I described before, and this other brother did not speak English. And, most importantly, there was only money enough to provide for three. When I changed the schedule, unbeknownst to me, they had used this money to assist in the Highlands. (Now the Highlands was their idea. God was in it, of course, as we have seen, but I had gone at their request. I was supposed go on the last trip...but illness had prevented it. This was, as I have said, because I failed to obey the Lord in going to La Gonave upon my return from Port de Paix. So, because it was an important area I had told them I would go this time.) What I am trying to explain is that if money was a factor in our going, I would not have used the money alloted for La Gonave to go to the Highlands for the La Gonave trip was Thus Saith the Lord. It was vital that I go there, if anywhere.

When we arrived at Bro. Peter's place we were informed that the administrator had cancelled the trip...for lack of funds. Now, understand that I had my own money saved for this part of the trip...specifically for La Gonave. It required a boat ride, bus fare, and some money to assist the people who would feed us. But the people at Port de Paix had taken up an offering upon my former visit. Let me explain this.

When I go to Haiti, I pay all my own expenses. At least, I thought so. I had no idea that any money was being used to support my missions there. I always took my own money with me. To get to Port de Paix you must either suffer the agony of an eight hour bus ride, complete with suffocating crowds, chickens, pigs, etc; over an unbelievable rugged terrain that gets increasingly more primitive as you go. Or, you fly. Wonderful! I'm an eagle. I chose to fly. The flight is expensive by Haitian standards. That first trip cost one hundred and twenty dollars I had been told it would cost about seventy dollars and had made sure I had that much and a little more when I came over. (It costs thirty dollars American to leave the country and 10 Goude as 'prime money'...which is the fancy way of saying 'bribe tip'. So, you must save this amount to return. No way to get out of the country without it, so if you go, don't spend everything). This last flight to Port de Paix was one hundred thirty-nine dollars US. But, I had brought enough for it.

It is easy enough to give all your money away. There is so much poverty. It is heart wrenching until you realize that you cannot meet the need. You can give away all you have and it makes no apparent difference. I always break a hundred dollars up into 10 and 25 Goude notes to give away...since I can't ever just say "NO" and I was giving away 50 Goude notes at the first and then there was not enough 'spread'. Better to give 20 people five dollars than to give 5 people twenty dollars See? The exchange that first time was 50 Goude for one dollar. This time it was 40....sawbucks losing value even in Haiti! That first trip I gave away all my clothes. I can buy a pair of jeans for ten dollars and 99 cents at Walmart...that is 450-550 Goude. I took three suitcases and came back with one. The day after I arrived Bro. Dale, my deacon, had to take me to Wal-Mart to buy jeans...I went in those I had worn home. I didn't realize that I would be away from home and have nothing to put on. Of course, I keep a suit for Sunday at Dale's house, but no jeans, etc. Now I take an extra suitcase full of clothes to leave there...and we send clothes from yard sales over there occasionally. I always take presents for 'my family' and carry enough money to meet my own needs and some extra. We have a very small church and I usually have to sell something to go...though the church does over and above their means to support the work. So you can see that money is most important there...as it seems to be everywhere. Yet, I had the money for this trip.

As I have said, they had pulled an offering at Port de Paix when I went there. I was surprised for I really did not expect this. In a country so poor, though, I never met one Christian who was out of work. That is a miracle of magnitude. God takes care of His own. And, since they knew the cost of my flight (which had exceeded my budget by nearly half again) and that I made sacrifice to come to Haiti each time...though I never told it, as I remember, they pulled an offering to give me for the plane ride. This offering was around 3000 Goude...or, at the then exchange rate, somewhere around seventy dollars. (It was a big bunch of cash in Haitian money.) I was staggered at their concern and their sacrifice and love for me. I tried to give it back but saw that I was offending them, so I put it away in my travel bag to use when I went to La Gonave.

So, I had, all along, planned on paying the expenses. I had no idea there was money dealing going on...nor that there was another 'body' aboard the ship...so to speak. (You know what I mean.) Anyway, it was this that had once again wrecked us. They could not afford to send four men...so, the administrator had cancelled the trip. And, without telling anyone, including the pastor, except Bro. Peter. I was really upset...this was the devil again.

Now everyone knows my stand on church politics...but let me just put in a quote here so you may understand, and others, why I didn't go to Jamaica or the Fillipines those other times. And why Bro. Wilner asked the church not to tell me how he felt about Haiti.

"God has never placed His church in the hands of an elected leadership which moves with political mindedness. He has placed His church in the care of God-ordained, Spirit-filled, Word-living men who lead the people through feeding them the Word. He has not separated the people into classes so that the masses are led by a holy priesthood. It is true that the leadership must be holy, but then so must be the whole congregation. Further, there is no place in the Word where priests or ministers or such mediate between God and the people, nor is there a place where they are separated in their worship of the Lord. God wants all to love and serve Him together. Nicolaitanism destroys those precepts and instead separates the ministers from the people and makes the leaders overlords instead of servants." CHURCH.AGE.BOOK

I believe this is a body ministry...with the whole body a part. And, I believe that each member is just as important as another, that Mary had just as much Holy Ghost as Peter did. God can put anyone He wants to in the driver seat...or in the boot (trunk). I believe with all my heart that God is in charge and running His Kingdom. Anything less than a God call is politics and organization. God knows where I am, who I am, what I can or cannot do....He is the captain in this army. I further believe that God works on both ends and directs the way. When I was an evangelist (for twenty years) I never called anyone and offered to come...if the Lord wanted me there, He could have them call me. That was what I believed...still do. I do not mean to imply that others should not do this...that is their business. But this is what I believe.

So, I knew that God had called me to Haiti. He spoke to me and said, "Get up and Go!" Now somebody might say, "Well, why did you sell your truck to go?" And I would reply. "He told me to go." Bro. Branham said, that he would first put it on your heart, then He would open the door, then He would provide the way. But, he never said how He would do it...and that is between He and I. One man, a Pentecostal preacher, a contractor who was at times my competitor, other times my partner in business told me once, "Paul, you threw away a million dollars to go up there to that little church with a handful of poor people. Stay here and run your business or I'll steal it from you." (He wasn't kidding. He now has the lion's share of it.) My reply? "Doyle, one soul is worth much more than a million dollars." And I wasn't kidding, either. So, now I live on about a third of what I did before. Am I sorry? "No way, Hosea!" I am laying up treasures in heaven. And, since I no longer need 10 trucks, nor more than one, I sell them off to do mission work. Criticize if you will....I'll love you anyway.

I said, "Since when was money a factor? Is money more important than souls? I have the money. My!" (Now, in fairness to all...only that administrator had made this decision. On his own. And, I understand he was brought to task about it later. That is none of my business and I only know because someone told me about new directions that were given after our return from La Gonave and the report of the things which I will now describe.)

I handed over a fifty dollar bill (we were told the trip would cost some 2000-2500 Goude which is about .00 at the outside.) and told them to get Goudes while Pierre repacked and we went to round up our interpreter. Poor Bro. Mimou. He had not been told either, and had left his home at 4:00 am to take a bus to Port Au Prince to await us. He had waited for several hours (it was now well after eight o'clock) at the bus stop and finally given up. We hoped he had not taken the bus back home, but had gone to his shop in the city, instead. God bless him, that is what he did. When we found him and explained, he immediately left his business and accompanied us. Then Bro. Levael, which I had asked to come with us to La Gonave, took us to the bus stop. Bro. Levael desperately wanted to go, but felt led of the Lord to return home instead. (The importance of this will be seen later. Always, always, follow your heart.) And so, finally, we were off.

The very first thing the devil did to discourage me was to require that I now ride that fearsome bus. Most of you know that I am an ex-convict, and a veteran. I can be, at times, more than a little claustrophobic. I hated that bus ride. I stood up nearly half the way with barely room to breath. Also, I am asthmatic and allergic. Those chicken feathers in such cramped quarters were a horror to me. But God's grace was sufficient, and though I still am reluctant to ride those buses, I don't fear them anymore and would do so again if need be. Boat rides, I love. Even if it was crowded and I had to breath part of the time thru chicken feathers. The man next to me had a rooster wrapped in a towel with a sock over its head which kept flicking its tail in my face. In the crowded conditions I doubt the man ever knew it but it was a grief to me.

Another incident happened that I was about to forget. Satan tried to kill Bro. Peter. When we crowded up to the bus a man very rudely started shoving Peter and demanding his place. Peter was concerned for me. We had to crowd in, with our baggage, and without getting separated. If that bus left with out him, or me, the trip was spoiled. Both of us....all three of us, had to get on together. I would be lost without an interpreter and both of us would be helpless without our guide. But, this man would not take no for an answer. He grew very aggressive. Peter looked my way, then he relinquished his place. The man stepped in where Peter had stood only a moment before. And a heavy chair came crashing down onto him striking him on the head and opening a gash in his forehead. Had Peter not moved when he did he would have received the full force of that accident. As it was, since they were both moving, exchanging places, the chair hit the other man a glancing blow. Enough, however, to nearly render him unconscious. Everyone jumped back and some of them assisted the man who was injured. He was really mad, now. He began breaking the expensive handmade chair...someone's prize which had been accidentally dropped, intending to make splinters of it. Several of the men, including Peter, stepped forward and prevented this, receiving a good Haitian cussing from the injured man. Then it seemed there would be a fight as the man on top the bus came down to apologize only to meet the injured one furious assault. But, the crowd surged between them. Peter, Bro. Mimou, and I leaped onto the bus. Satan had lost another chance.

But, he wasn't done. He had managed to keep me from La Gonave for more than six months while someone suffered awaiting God's touch, and he was still fighting us tooth and nail. At the boat it was another storm of confusion. We had to leap off the dock onto a moving boat, with our baggage, also. One slip would have landed us in the ocean. I made it first, surprising them with my good shape and fast reflexes. (Surprised me, too, but I never let on. I'll be sixty next year, but I have been a roofer all my life...construction trade. And, I often went out on a boat when I lived in Florida, have fished from many a boat, and can swim two miles or more should I need to. My daughter once challenged me to swim lake Bardeau with her. Guess who had to assist who? Yep! Halfway across she decided she couldn't make it and I had to turn her on her back and tow her until she got her wind. Of course, that was twenty years ago. Ha!.) After all had made this risky leap...or had slithered down the side of the dock as one brother did, there arose a tumult. An official appeared on the dock as everyone was yelling, including my brethren, in Kreyole. I had no idea what was happening, but it all looked pretty serious to me. I finally figured out, by catching a few known words and watching the gestures, that either someone or something had to go off or come on and that official wasn't going to let the boat go until it did. Then there was a man on the dock who was angrily gesturing and shouting...the people all shouting back at him. My! Would we ever get to La Gonave? We were hours late. It was now midway through the afternoon and we still had a two hour boat ride, plus another ride...by truck this time, to our location.

Finally, someone started throwing baggage onto the dock, the crowd led the angry man away, and the official let the boat launch. What it was was the boat was dangerously overcrowded...and that other man still wanted on. It was his luggage they offloaded. Whew! Two hours turned into a reckless, thundering speed boat ride of one hour and 20 minutes, with the passengers all leaning hard to the front, the baggage piled up and mashing us, while one man steered and another bailed water out of the overcrowded hull. At one point we took in so much water we all lay across one another, the boat came to a near stop, and both men bailed water until we were once again seaworthy...sort of. At last we reached La Gonave. We were worn and wet, but safely at our destination. Then we boarded a truck and made the last lap. Soon we were sitting down outside the humble home of Bro. Peter's first convert. His wife greeted us and sent someone to fetch the man home. We ate a simple meal of rice and legumes washed down with more juice and rested. It was after five o'clock.

I discovered that, though Peter had in this location some six or seven baptized converts, there was no Message church here. Peter then told me that there was another church deep in the interior, on the other side of the island but that time would not permit our going there this time. I determined right then to make it there next trip. But this was the original location sought and now we had arrived. Peter arranged with the pastor of a denominational church to have me preach there the next morning..after all the folderol that goes on in a formal church...roll call, offering, announcements and business, another offering, etc. I did preach there, and God did perform a mighty work. In addition to several healings of minor illnesses (though no illness seems minor to the sufferer) several others were baptized the following week when Peter went back to follow up. And, the lot of them left the denominational church...which was all that was available to them at the time, and they came together as a body. They are now the church in that place. (The other one is a lodge, though a gracious one to us.)

But this is not the whole of the story. I just leaped ahead to save the best for last. There was certainly a reason why Satan had fought so hard. He had two people in critical condition and was attempting to destroy their lives. Only the mercy of God had stood in the way. Here is what happened in it's entirety. Prepare to rejoice in Christ. For He truly is worthy of all praise and thanksgiving.

As we sat there visiting, I got restless. I said, suddenly, "Brethren, let's do something. We came all the way here at the command of the Lord. Let's go visit someone, or preach somewhere....something." Bro. Peter and Bro. Mimou were also of the same mind. We were all anxious to be up and doing. But, doing what? Bro. Peter said, "Well, if it was me, I would just go out into the street. But we can't expect you to preach in the street." I was aghast. I said, "Peter, my brother, I have preached on the yard in prison for years at a time. I have preached in storefronts, and out of the back of trucks, and from a boat once...like Jesus. I have baptised in a horse trough, a slough, a bathtub, a laundry cart, even in the ocean fighting the surf. What makes you think I can't preach a street meeting in Haiti?" At that we all lit up, and then we laughed together. "Ok" says Peter. "Let's go" says Bro Mimou. "Me, too, I'm going along" , "and me..." Everyone agreed. Bro. Peter brought out a bullhorn and we were off. We walked around a bit in the street and found that like everywhere else in Haiti there were people almost everywhere and anywhere and one place seemed as good as another. So, we began.

Now, I only know one song in Kreyole, besides Only Believe, that is. And I know most of another one in French. So, I started singing. Adoray li, la Dieu de gwa, adoray li la Dieu de gwa....! (It translates roughly to 'Praise the Lord who is my God' and it ends with 'Jesu Chrit se Dieu la gwa.' Yep! You got it! Jesus Christ is the Lord) Well, I made a strange sight, I'm sure. A white man in the street singing in Kreyole. We got a crowd. First the kids, then the adults. Then I started preaching. I spoke of how that God had created man and how He wanted a family. Then I spoke of how He had become a man to be with His family. Then how He had given His life for His loved ones and how He was now back in them in the form of the Holy Spirit. How that God's Family was a powerful family because they had His power of His life in them and they could heal the sick and bring them joy and peace and impart to them eternal life. They could forgive men's sins as He had done and deliver men from death by His Spirit which would also come in those who believed for those who believed were also God's sons and daughters....Well, I preached. Then, the Spirit lifted from off me and went onto Bro. Peter who then began to preach. When he was done, Bro. Mimou started in. Then He returned upon me. We preached to them the Word of the Day...Jesus Christ, in three languages. English, French, and Kreyole...but mostly Kreyole because they interpreted what I said. Then I told them they must repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ Who was the Lord of Whom I spoke...which I found out had been what both of the others had told them. I waited...then I told them where we would be in the morning and invited them to come to the service. We then answered questions individually for about twenty minutes. (One guy was a real philosopher..and he knew the Bible somewhat, but he was a Voodoo believer, also. A real pagan. He argued with me as they did with Paul, but then he said..."I will hear more of this in the morning") Then we left.
But, we didn't go home. Oh, no. We hadn't yet found the perfect Will of God. He was training us and leading us onward. We went to the other side of the town and began again. "Adoray li la Dieu de gwa, adoray li la Dieu de gwa...." I started preaching again. This time, however, Peter became engaged in a busy conversation with a woman who came forth out of the crowd. (Actually she had come passing thru the crowd from her home.) Bro. Mimou and I preached the gospel and ended with a call for baptism, telling them to receive Jesus Christ as Lord, etc. Then we turned to hear Peter say, "We must go with this woman. I'm going to baptize her."

Peter and I had joked about baptism on the way over. He had asked would I baptize any converts and I said, "He never sent me to baptize. Paul said that...the other Apostle. Peter had the command to baptize. I hate cold water...I shake like a wet dog even in warm water. You do the baptizing. I'll catch 'em. You wash 'em. And God will clean 'em." And so he said, "I'm going to baptize her." Amen.

We followed the woman to her house. She wanted to inform her husband...but he was nowhere to be found. So, she went in and came out ready to go. It was getting dark, but Peter had brought a flashlight. (He kept coming up with whatever we needed...like Mr. Green Jeans always did for Captain Kangaroo. Oops. Showed my age then...and about the last time I watched T.V.) Peter took the woman out into the ocean, while I held the flashlight and baptized her in the name of Jesus Christ.

While we were going to the woman's house, we passed a house where we told there was a dying man who wanted prayer for his healing. We told them we would return as soon as we had baptised the woman. But let me tell you what I did not know at the time but it was related to me by Peter later.

The woman had taken sick many months before. She was a denominational Christian and had fallen ill about the time I was to have come to La Gonave the first time. She had prayed for healing and expected that the Lord would send someone to her to help her gain her healing. Then she had had a vision. She was in her house and heard singing. "Adoray li la Dieu de gwa, adoray li la Dieu de gwa..." She had been excited and wanted to come investigate it right away, but the devil had tried to persuade her not to do it. (In her vision, now) She had finally gone out to see who it was that was singing. She heard more voices now. Before she could get there, though she saw a crowd, the singing stopped. Then she heard preaching in English. Then she had seen THREE missionaries (not four) and after speaking with them had been healed. One of the men was me...in the vision. Praise God! (I was, maybe, the only white man on that island that night...or for sometime. I don't know. I only saw one other white person during the whole of my stay in Haiti this time. And only four or five in all my visits.) She got healed when Bro. Peter laid his hands on her and prayed and she declared that she would not go to bed until she had been baptised in the name of Jesus Christ.

After baptizing the sister, we went to the home of the sick man. He was lying on a pallet on the floor and looked very ill, indeed. We helped him and he managed to sit up. He then told us his story. He, too, had taken sick...in late February. (Now many of you know how that I had planned to return to Haiti in March...we had announced it over there and here, also. But I had that court case come up where that man who never paid for his roof was suing me for the whole thing. You have probably heard me tell it on Paltalk. As a result, I was unable to leave the country and had to postpone the trip.) Well, this man had been diagnosed "ulcers" and had been told he could not live through March. He had something much worse than ulcers. He pulled up his shirt and I felt his swollen stomach. It was as hard as a marble tabletop. He had suffered worse and worse as the days passed but had lived thru March...and, of course, April, May, and now it was June. In early June he had been advised that there was a doctor (of what sort I do not know...witch, or otherwise, you understand) who might be able to heal him on La Gonave. (La Gonave is not a resort. It is one of the poorest places in the land. I do not know if they have a hospital, but surely not like in his home which is Port Au Prince, the major city in all of Haiti.) Yet, he had relied upon the report and had made the trip. He said, "I have been here one month, today, and have not been able to find the doctor." Looking at him, ( he had said that he had not eaten in almost a week and had not had a bowel movement in days...his eyes yellowed with jaundice) my heart near broke with his suffering. I told him to stand up, which he did, bravely. I then took him into my arms and held him, hugging him like a child. I was so moved by his condition that my eyes were wet with tears. I prayed and asked our Lord Jesus to heal the man which he did. Immediately the man testified that he was well...and his stomach was loose as though he had moved his bowels, but he hadn't, of course. We all rejoiced in the Lord's mercy and we left him after I had said, "You don't need the doctor now, you can return home."

As a final word, let me say that when we went the next morning to gather the lady who was baptized we stopped at the man's house to see if he wanted to walk to church with us. He wasn't there. He has gone home. Praise the Lord! But one thing I regret. Only once before in my life have I ever prayed for a sick person without giving him, also, instruction in salvation. (The other time was the police officer whose wife went to our church and who had the 13 tumor's that disappeared as you have heard about. It's been told many, many times on Paltalk. As I have said, his wife was going to our church and I would certainly see him again...which I did and talked with him about his soul.) But, I failed to speak to that man on La Gonave concerning his souls condition. Bro. Peter may have. I somehow feel that he was a Christian, though I have no way of knowing. And, I do not know why it was that way. Only God knows. But I do regret it. Perhaps the Lord will let me see the man again, someday. I do not know. His home is in Port Au Prince, and there are only 2 and 1/2 million people there in that city...maybe in November. I don't even know his last name.

And so our trip came to an end. The next day, after church, which I have already reported on here, we left for Port Au Prince. It was a pleasure cruise this time. The devil had given up. He had been totally defeated by the Mighty Conqueror and there was nothing he could do now. Jesus Christ had shown that he was the same yesterday, and today, and forever. It was Satan who failed in Haiti, not I, and certainly not God. The truck ride, the boat ride, both were charming. The weather was beautiful. Haiti was beautiful...the ocean sky blue, crystalline. When the boat landed we had to wait for the bus. One of the sisters had given me a very large watermelon and insisted I take it home with me to eat later. I packed it into the boat with the rest of our gear and we made a fine run in a sound craft with no others than ourselves and the crew. It was Sunday afternoon and we were ready for a good long rest. While we waited on the bus, we went swimming in the lagoon at the landing. Then we carved up the watermelon to share....which was much too large for us alone and soon we had a covey of little smiling Haitian children helping us finish it. Then we boarded the bus. It was crowded...Man! was it crowded, but, though I stood up most of the way I was as happy as I have ever been. The next day I flew to Florida to pick up my car.

I preached twice in Florida. At Bro. Fimil's and at Bro. Jean's in Boyton Beach. Both services were very, very, lovely. I dearly love Bro. Fimil, whom I had first met in Haiti at the convention. I had preached three services for him before flying to Hiati and they are strong in the message we believe. But the meeting at Bro. Jean's was the most anointed preaching I have done that I can remember. And the people sang and danced and shouted long after I had finished. I shouted and danced with them singing, of course, Adoray li la Dieu de gwa, adoray li la Dieu de gway. Adoray li la Dieu de gwa, Jesu Crist se Dieu de gwa.

I plan to return in late October and remain until two days before Thanksgiving when I will host a Meeting at our church, Word of the Day Tabernacle. I have a truck for sale.
Que Dieu de benise (which is French for 'God bless you'.) Or, as they say in Haiti, "Bon Die be nwe!"

Bro. Paul

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Report on the former Haiti trips.

So many have asked for me to put into writing the former events and the wondrous works of our Lord Jesus on the first trips to Haiti that I have undertaken to do so. As these things are not nearly so fresh in my memory as are those of the latest trip I will be unable to give you a "play by play" synopsis but only a record of those things which lie most clear in my heart. There may be some things that have been reported on Paltalk or on tape that I will fail to recall at this time. If so, forgive me. There may be, also, some things which were not formerly told but which are outstanding to me and could not be verified so were omitted before. I know, however, that I must stand and give account for all things one day and with that uppermost in my mind, I proceed.

One of those things which are unverifiable is the way our Lord directed me upon my first arrival in Haiti. As this all took place as I was alone with Him, I cannot produce a witness. Those involved are either unknowns or long gone. Here, though, is how it was.

As everyone is aware, and as told in the latest report, the Lord spoke to me in my bedroom saying, "Get up and go to Haiti. I have sent you Wilner as a guide." You will also recall that God had formerly spoken to this same brother telling him I would be going and not to tell me. He had told some in the church, but not me. He had, however, been working to prepare the way and when God spoke to me and I called him he took care of all the arrangements, telling me "no problem".

The first unusual event which gave us greater faith was the booking of the airline tickets and the timing of the call. Bro. Wilner's family lives in Haiti (his wife and son, Abraham) and he had planned to visit them in June. This was the month I received my call to "get up and go!" So Wilner was able to guide me and interpret for me. Bro. Wilner is in the U.S. Army and he had made arrangements some time back. He had booked his flight from OKC months in advance and was still required to pay over six hundred dollars. I called my booking agent and was surprised to find that it would only cost around four hundred and fifty dollars to make the flight from Hot Springs, or from OKC, even though I planned to leave in only one week. (Bro. Wilner had shopped diligently, and as those who fly know, when you book early you get the cheaper price. Bro. Wilner is still good-naturedly "sore" about not waiting for the call of God to go to Haiti rather than planning ahead for his own sake. We could both hardly believe our good fortune.) This was especially good news to me since I only had about six hundred dollars of my own money available to me and the church is small..and this was such short notice that it would be difficult to provide more. I had sold a truck for the week of the call and had set the money aside for missions. (You will also, remember that a fee of thirty dollars is required when leaving the country. God was directing each move and covering the entire expense.)

Then, to further prove His direction of events, we discovered that even though we were leaving from different places at different times we would be on the very same flight from Miami to Haiti. But, I was a careless steward at this point and failed to use good judgment. (Oh, God's mercy is ever present to correct our mistakes!) Because of this flight schedule, I, in my often unwise ways, failed to get the names, addresses or phone numbers of any of the contacts in Haiti. I just thought to let Wilner handle it all and never even asked for so much as a name. This was a mistake. Satan used my slothfulness against us.

Because Bro. Wilner has no car he was dependent upon another soldier for his ride and this man failed to show at the appointed time. Bro. Wilner called his commanding officer and got a ride but arrived too late for the flight. He was forced to settle for a next day flight. Meanwhile I reached Miami and boarded the plane. Nowhere among the passengers could I see the brother. But, there were some 100's on the plane, so I decided to just wait for him in the station. I waited, but he never showed. What was I to do?

On the plane I had been handed the necessary papers to fill out for passage through Customs. I had filled out the general information but had been stopped short by the lines which asked who would I stay with and where? Of course they would want to know what I was doing in Haiti and why I had come, who I would meet, etc. I felt so ignorant right then. What sort of an idiot would go to a foreign country and not even know the name of someone there? This idiot. Brother, did I reprimand myself. I felt so stupid, so helpless. So, I talked to the One Who understands stupid, helpless folks. "Lord," I said, "I am a foolish servant. Ha! A real Arkansas hillbilly hick. You sent me here and I'm making a mess already. I don't know how I did it, Lord, help me, please." Am I glad His mercy overrides our mistakes.

His ways are astonishing. I saw that I was in deep trouble. Here I was in a foreign country, and one which I had been told was politically turbulent and possibly dangerous. I spoke not one word of the language and very little French. The truth of it is that, though Bro. Wilner was a Haitian, I had never even heard the sound of Kreyole, the Haitian common tongue. How would I explain my situation? I would have a hard enough time convincing someone in English that I came so unprepared and uninformed. How could I explain it to a Customs official in a foreign tongue? I hoped they spoke English. But, as it turned out, that was a false hope.

To avoid hindering others I went to the back of the line. I knew my situation would require some time and there were hundreds to be processed in only two lines. All the while I was trusting that somehow Bro. Wilner would appear. That was all I could figure on that the Lord might do. As I took my place I saw that there were two women just in front of me and I heard them conversing in French. Then one of them turned to me and spoke to me in French. I told her, in English, that I did not speak French, only a little. I repeated it in my poor French. "Non Parlee vu Francais!" She said, in clear and distinct English, "That's okay. I speak English. This your first time in Haiti? You look out of sorts." Well, I explained my situation, all the while realizing how foolish it made me seem. But she was gracious enough not to tell me I was stupid. Bless her. She told me she had no idea how I could get through the Customs without a destination but that, if I did, they would assist me with my baggage. She said, "You'll need us there." Then she told me that I was welcome to accompany them to the hotel where they were staying and that she would then help me make phone calls to contact someone to meet me. She reminded me that the operators only spoke French and I learned that the Haitian phone system was "horrible". Now, that's a fine English word but not good news. I thanked her and said, "I may have to do that since my friend is not here." Then they entered the Customs booth. I was next.

When I got there I heard Kreyole for the first time that I remember. But I won't forget what it sounded like the first time. Something like "Ughum m'mwinee li juvee". Wow! What do you do now, Paul? He kept pointing to that unfilled space on the paper and I kept saying, "I don't know, I'm sorry. I don't know!" I explained in English, which he plainly did not understand, and watched him poke his finger at that place on the paper and "ughum li juvee" some more. I was near panic. Finally I said, "Look. I'm sorry. I do not know anyone. See those ladies over there? They said I could go to the motel with them and..........." He said, "Motel? Motel!" And stamped my papers waving me on. Hallelujah! The woman had helped not knowing it, and God had made the way. Praise the Lord!

The ladies met me coming out of the Customs booth and led me to the baggage terminal. Such a riot of confusion! Everywhere Haitian men were snatching at bags and speaking in Kreyole to passengers who were shaking their heads and pulling their bags away from their helpers. "Don't let them touch your bag!" said my companion. "You'll have to pay them if you do." With that we began hauling bags off the conveyor belt. I only had three bags and my laptop which I had carried on. That was one more than allowed I discovered later, but I got away with it. Again, my ignorance was overturned and I wasn't charged for extra luggage. But, if I had too much these ladies were really loaded. "That's mine. And that, and that one, too." It looked like they brought Europe with them. We quickly piled a cart high and began loading another, all the while the ladies were pushing men away saying. "Non, kite, kite" (pronounced keytee, keytee and meaning "leave it")

Finally, the bags were off and loaded. The multi-lingual lady (she told me she spoke English, Spanish, Kreyole and French) suggested I walk to the front and see if there was anyone to meet me while they remained to guard the luggage. This I did. And, Praise the Lord! There I saw several men holding signs saying, 'Brother Paul'. Soon they had grabbed up my bags and we were on our way. I shouted back a "Merci, madames" to the ladies and was hustled off to a waiting truck.

One thing more. When we got to the truck it was discovered that one of the bag toters wasn't a brother. He had slipped in and grabbed up a bag and the others supposed he, too, was a brother. But we realized different when he held out his hand and demanded his pay. One of the brothers gave him some 'goudes' and off he went. Us, too. I had arrived safely, somehow.

These brothers were marvelous. Not one of them spoke English, but one did speak Spanish. I do much better in Spanish than French so we were able to communicate somewhat. ( I found that more of the Haitian brethren can speak Spanish than I would have ever guessed. I suppose this is due to the fact that Spanish is the language of the Dominican Republic which comprises two-thirds of the island of Hispanola. Haiti makes up the other one-third. Bro. Levael speaks rather good Spanish. He claims "better than English", though he does very well in both.) They were very gracious, not allowing me to even touch a bag. No sir! They wouldn't hear of it. And they got me to Bro. Leveal's house, though I'll never know how anyone arrives anywhere safely in Haitian traffic.

While I am on the subject, Haitian traffic is far more "horrible" than even the phone system. They do not drive on any particular side of the road. Oh, the main traffic flow appears to be normal at the first. Right side of the road, like in America, instead of the left as in Europe. But, that is only when you first pull away. From then on it is a free-for-all. If someone is in the way on your side of the road, you go to the other side...until, that is, someone else comes along. At which point you somehow scoot back over, or he goes somewhere, then you continue on weaving and bobbing in and out, back and forth........whew! It is amazing that there are no more accidents than there are. Somehow, everyone seems to know what the other guy will do. I only remember two 'stop' signs in Port au Prince, (though there may be more) but I also remember that no one stops at them. They slow down somewhat, but no one stops unless he must. There are a few traffic lights along the main street near the airport, but I'm convinced they are only there to impress visitors who are just going from the airport to the hotels. They do stop for these, but when it changes from red to green it is everyone for himself again. And pedestrians are at constant risk, as the crowds meander through the same streets and passages. Yet, somehow, they are spared.

The most vehicles seen are 'taxis', which are usually Japanese pick-ups such as Mazda or Toyota with camper shells and homemade benches along the sides of the bed. There is a rope to pull that rings a bell in the cab so the driver will know you want off here. And there is where he stops. Wherever he is when you pull the cord. Then the passenger offloads and sticks his or her arm in the cab with 'goudes' and your off again. Very shortly afterward he will pull over and pick up one or two more to stuff in the place of the one who vacated the space. Off again. And so on. Then, there are the buses. Loaded to bursting and thundering along through the gnarled traffic. Somehow everyone keeps moving along, rapidly and without incident. (When they do have a pile up it is always a bad one. One of the brothers was in a crash on the way to church with a car load of others. Prayers were made right away, and, though the car was incredibly mangled, miraculously no one was injured in the church vehicle.)

All of these type vehicles, cabs and buses, are elaborately decorated with murals and various symbols in glorious technicolor. And they all have religious slogans and most have Scriptures. These are Catholic in origin, however. (Catholicism and Voodoo are the main Haitian religions. They share with one another in symbols and practices. And, what few denominational Protestant churches there are also cater to Voodoo practices and superstitions.) Then there are the 'civilian' vehicles. Again, most often Japanese or European.

If there is one word to describe Port au Prince it is 'crowded'. Two and one-half million people live in an area the size of, perhaps, Hot Springs, Ark. Of course there are other 'towns' which are more like 'burroughs' in New York. They all run together. And when you leave Port au Prince going north on "Haitian Hwy 1" (as we jokingly called it) you get further and further into the hills and the road gets rougher and rougher until you are on little more than a worn dirt track. Going south you grind down into narrow road that is always filled with people...as everywhere in Haiti. Altogether 8,000,000 people are jammed into an area of just over 10,000 miles. Most of that jungle forest land. Perhaps I should have said all of Haiti is 'crowded'.

When we arrived at the home of Bro. Levael Eugene, who is my best friend and companion there, he was not at home. He was miles away in Jacmel (in the south) overseeing one of his agricultural projects and wasn't due back until afternoon of the next day. Here I was again in a quandry. No one in the house spoke English, or so I thought. It turned out that his son, Mark (18), knew some English and his youngest daughter, Dura (then 11) understood English even more, but never spoke a word for many days. (She was so shy at first, I wondered if she could speak. Later I accused her of having the 'Chat' steal her 'longue' Chat is French for cat and longue is tongue.)
But her ability to understand English played a part in the events of the next few hours.

All of the household were most gracious and they are now my adopted 'family'. I am as much at home with them as with my own, more so these days. The children treat me with respect, but as part of the family. Bro. Levael and his wife also treat me as though I belonged there always. The paid servants, (which are not so designated as they, too, are part of the family), and several relatives make up the rest of the large household. In addition, Bro. Levael's brother lives on the same 'compound' in another house next door along with his new wife and several relatives and 'family'. Nearly all are 'believers' and most are profoundly devout. The women, who work outside the home, rise early for prayers and devotion before work. Early is before dawn. Such was the home I found waiting for me. But, at this point I was a stranger...though they never ever treated me as one. From the first, I was one of them.

However, I was, as you might imagine, 'out of sorts' as the bilingual lady would say. I ate some fruit that was offered me and drank some "ju". Mark showed me to 'my room' (which was his when I wasn't there. When I am, he sleeps next door.) and I was left to my own devices. I put things in order and then went up onto the roof to pray.

Houses in Haiti, for the most part, have flat roofs. Only the poorer homes with tin roofs are gabled. The better homes, such as this one, are made of concrete block swabbed in masonry with flat concrete roofs. (This roofing process was fascinating for me to watch since I am by trade a roofer and it was a unique idea and performance. But, I will spare you a description...interesting as it is.) To get to the roof I had only to pass through the large iron gate (which is locked at night) and climb the stairs. Up there I knelt among the laundry that flagged the lines stretched from the steel rebar jutting up in various places. I thanked the Lord for bringing me safely this far and asked Him to guide me and direct my paths. I asked Him to show me clearly what I must do and how, reminding Him how careless I can be. Then, I stood up to look around. I looked off toward the direction of the airport as a plane came in low for a landing, roaring above the house. I saw the mass of homes in various stages of development and degrees of poverty and wealth. Alongside an impressive 'compound' inside which would be a home similar to this would be a variety of hovels and shacks. Then, beyond that, was the green of the hills and the blue of the ocean and the sky filled with puffy white clouds. Just below a giant Mango tree hung heavy with fruit. Behind me I saw more of the same. Something happened to me. I fell in love with the place. Just like that, my heart filled to bursting and I loved where I was and what I was seeing. Thinking I was all alone, I raised my hands to the Lord and cried with a loud voice, "Oh, God, My Lord, I LOVE HAITI! I LOVE IT, LORD!" For several minutes I repeated it over and over. "I LOVE HAITI!"

Then I saw Dura. Something flickered at the corner of my vision and turning I saw Dura standing there. She turned quickly and fled down the stairs. She had come up to gather some laundry, I discovered later. And she had seen me and heard me shouting. "Well", I thought, "she don't know English so she will just think I was praising the Lord." And I was. But those words, "I love Haiti" would play a roll in this first visit, beginning with Dura's report to her daddy of what she had understood me to be shouting. But more on this later.

The following day, I met Bro. Levael for the first time. And we have been bosom companions ever since. We have complete confidence in one another and share all things. He respects the Word in me and I, also, respect his love for the Truth. He is well versed in Scripture and more learned in the Message than most being able to read it in both English and Spanish along with the French. Being able to read English is a great advantage as there are only a limited number of the books in the translations. He recently received a computer which we sent him and now has the complete Message, in English of course, in printed form. This will be a tremendous help to all the brethren as he will share with them the words of the prophet. Having, myself, read the Church Age Book and some other messages in Spanish, (a laborious chore for me) I know that there are nuances and phrases that do not translate altogether in other languages.

Let me give you an example of this on a larger scale. I preach in types as is well-known and I often use the example of the Tabernacle in the Wilderness as a type for the Church, the Body. God dwelt in the Pillar of Fire, the Shekinah, behind skins there. Even this simple presentation can be difficult in a land such as Haiti. First of all, there are no native animals in Haiti, which is an island in the Caribbean, and no zoo that I know of. The only animals there are imported domestics...sheep, goats, cows, pigs, dogs and cats. (This latter I have never seen, but suppose them to be present as everyone seemed to know what a 'chat' was.) So, for example, when I began to refer to the 'badger' and to compare it with a man, a sinner, showing how God chose this foul creature to 'cover' Himself, no one knew what this animal was.

People in foreign countries, the primitive ones, anyway, do not understand many of the Kentucky 'slangs' and sayings used by the prophet. (Some of his references are even foreign to this modern generation who have never seen or heard of Arthur Godfrey, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Roy Acuff......except on tape. You see? Who today would know what a 'johnny pin' is or have burned a pine knot or seen a straw tick? One young man in Florida once told me he thought a straw 'tick' was an insect found in haylofts...which he had never seen either...a hayloft. He was upset that Bro. Branham had slept on one.) To a Haitian a 'grizzly bear' (or bear grease) cannot even be imagined. I would like to be able to see what mental portrait my brethren in Haiti envision when you say, 'possum' or 'deer' or 'elk' or even 'squirrel'. Even some Americans have trouble with 'caribou'. Do you see?

Just as the Bible is written from an Oriental viewpoint as the prophet declared. ("Now, this is an oriental Bible; it's an oriental Book.") Even so, the Message is foreign in the same way to most outside the US. Look at what Bro. Branham said about the Scripture..... "because you people in the west, with your western education does not understand the Scripture in the light on an oriental Book." And that's true. With all of our theology, if you ever go to Jerusalem, or the eastern country where this Bible was written, It's a brand new Book to you. Our Western ideas are far from the Eastern ways. You'll not... Can't understand the parables, and so forth, the teaching until you go there and see those same customs lived out today."

"Now, the Bible is an Oriental book. It is not a western book. But we are a western people, western ideas, western civilization. And the Bible becomes a new book when you take It in the light of the Oriental customs."

Now, the 'badger' spoken of in Scripture may not resemble the same creature we know. But it was our own Western nation 'badger' that Bro. Branham knew and described. So you can see that it is necessary to have a live ministry with a knowledge of the language used by the prophet to clearly expound some things.

The first time I preached on 'badgers skins being dipped in oil, dyed red, and sewn together to make a house for God' Bro. Wilner was with me as translator. He knew the type well, having sat under my ministry, so I was surprised when he hesitated in the translation. Then he said, "bouke" and went on. He did, however, seem to take a great many more words than I did at times, and I realized that he was adding something to what I was saying...which was unusual, indeed. I paused and let him finish, though, as he gets anointed the same as I when we work together this way. He has preached for us at the Word of the Day Tabernacle and we know his revelation is accurate. I had complete confidence in him and his interpreting even if I did wonder at the cause. The point was made, finally, and the people began to rejoice as though they now understood the message. But, a "bouke" is not a badger, it is a male goat. (One translator said 'kabritte', which I knew to be 'goat', but which is goat in general or, a young one which is eaten, and not the smelly old 'billy' which the "bouke' is. I corrected him, gently, and he understood it by the time I was finished with the type.) What does all this mean?

The 'badger' we know about in America, and refered to by Bro. Branham, is a mean-tempered little guy who will fight a grizzly bear three times his size. (Again, a grizzly is foreign to a Haitian. They have no idea as to its appearance. Bro. Wilner let that one go.) The badger has glands which cause him to smell repulsive.. you can smell him coming. (Like a sinner with his habits.) The badger is selfish, ornery, sour, hateful,......he's a bad 'crittur'. And God chose this fella to make His Tabernacle. Just as he chose us to build His earthly 'house'. These badger skins were first dipped in oil to give them a sweet smelling savor (Bro. Branham said 'saviour') and then dyed red. They came in different sizes and colors, but all were dyed the same red color before being sewn together to make the Tabernacle. The Church is made up of 'skins' of different sizes and colors, washed in the blood of the Lamb, all "knit together in a bond of love" to form a dwelling place for the Pillar of Fire, Christ. Now, watch how the Holy Spirit, knowing the Haitian mind as I did not, gave the interpretation.

In Haiti the "bouke" which is a 'billy goat' is used to make curtains which sometimes form the very walls of primitive dwellings, or, more usually, walls within a dwelling. The skins are sewn together and can be seen as wares sold on the side of the road throughout the country. This guy, the bouke, is ill-tempered, foul smelling, sour, and selfish. So, the same type was made. Hallelujah! Bro. Wilner, searching how to explain a particular animal in a country where there are no native animals, was moved upon by the Spirit to substitute the "bouke"...a near perfect example of the animal in the type. God directed the Word even through my failings. Amen.

Here I will also report another example of Him performing the same works as He did in the Alpha Age of Pentecost...the Book of Acts Church. For this we have only the testimony of one, our brother Wilner Laguerre...but I believe it and thus speak. Bro. Wilner told us one night after our return what he had been reluctant to say for fear of being misunderstood. (I know that feeling. I have already been criticized for telling about the stilling of the storm...and other events. There are many things I have experienced, {and some of you, also, I would guess} that the critical attitude of unbelief affected by many 'message believers' makes me reluctant to tell. So, I keep shut, mostly. We have had marvelous supernatural things happen right in the congregation, witnessed by many, that we do not tell to 'outsiders' for this reason. But,......I'll leave it alone.) Bro. Wilner reported that when I preached, in English, he had heard it clearly in Kreyole and had only to repeat it most of the time. I can certainly testify to the anointing on the platform and go on record that Bro. Wilner is a genuine Christian and a God called interpreter. Again, I believe it! It is Scriptural and it is according to promise. Amen.

Bro. Wilner arrived the same day that Bro. Levael did, but I still did not see him until the next day. He had a fine reunion with his wife and son before making the trip to join me. (Wilner often had to walk the entire way, or, if he could afford a taxi, part of the way. We always tried to gather him by car, but he would sometimes put his wife and son on a taxi and leave ahead of us.)

Let me pause a moment and 'give a rose'. (Bro. Branham said he would "rather give a rose now than a wreath later".) I want to say a word about my precious brother Wilner Laguerre. As you know from the earlier report, he is our song leader at the Tabernacle, or was until duty called him to Iraq. A duty he should have never had, perhaps. Wilner came to America for an education. He, along with others, received three years education from our government in the lucrative field of technology. The other men who came with him went back home and prospered, or, many remained here to take high paying jobs right away in their field. But, Bro. Wilner is a Christian. He recognized that he had received something of value and felt an obligation to return a part of that to his benefactors. Searching around for a way to repay the US government for their assistance he found that a 'hitch' in the Army was a three year sign up. It was peacetime and the Army made it all sound so good. Safe and beneficial to all. Bro. Wilner saw his chance to repay a debt he felt he owed. So, perhaps unwisely, perhaps without full consideration,...who knows?...he joined the Army. Would I have discouraged him? Probably. As a veteran of conflict I know the dangers. And always there are wars and rumors of wars. But then, again, who knows? I was not his pastor at that time. Yet, who can say for certain he is out of God's Will...does He not know all things? Is He not in control of the lives of His own? Can He not direct the path of a son? Or alter the path he has chosen? Some men must go to war, so that others may remain. Bro. Branham said that Roy Roberson went to war in his place...so he didn't have to go. Who can tell? One thing I do know.

My brother has put his life on the line for a nation, a government that has failed until now to bring his family from Haiti, a friendly nation. He is on the battlefield for a "heathen nation" (said the prophet) against a heathen nation. He is separated from all those he loves, on two 'island' nations...one great, another small. He is, no doubt, fearful (all soldiers in a war zone are) and discouraged at times. He is in extreme danger, also, at times. (Two of his fellow soldiers have been killed in action already.) But, Wilner is a Christian and Christians perform their duties and maintain responsibility. Above all, they keep their word, even as their Father does. So, he will honor his commitment...even to the death, if necessary. But, I believe that because of his love for Christ and his loyalty to the Word as he knows it now...and as he understood it even back then, God will preserve his witness and protect His servant. The safest unit in Iraq is the one our brother Wilner Laguerre is in, though his fellow soldiers mock his faith. I love him. I embrace his loyal heart of sacrifice and hold the Token over him believing that though "A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; it shall not come nigh thee" And that because he has made "the LORD, my refuge, [even] the most High," his habitation; "There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways." Keep him in your prayers and in your heart. Though I cannot say "God bless America" knowing it is under a curse from God, I can easily say, "God bless my brother, a gallant American." Bro. Wilner is a son of God. He is my brother, and my friend. Amen (So Be It!)

Our first service was at Jardine....pastored by Bro. Guy Lamoth. The crowd was enormous, to me. I have a small church, and up to that time had only on two occasions preached to more than 1000. (In Hardy, Arkansas, many years ago, I preached twice for Bro. Earl Martin to an estimated1,300.) Here there were an estimated 1,200 or more. The building was packed with hundreds sitting close against one another and the larger overflow crowd in the courtyard was numbered in the hundreds more. In addition, many saints were lined along the walls outside and down the street on both sides. Another hundred or so. I was told that the Church numbered over a thousand so that was not a first time event. A video screen and loud speakers enabled them to join in the worship. Port au Prince has electricity part of the time. This was one of those times. It would fail on us in the future.

I was more than a little nervous. My! I had no prepared message...I never preach from notes as the Holy Spirit would only take me elsewhere, anyway. I pray and trust the Lord to meet me. Many times I don't even have my text Scripture settled, as yet. So, with that many people and no concrete 'thought', I was very nervous. He has never let me down, but I was scared anyway. Always am, at the first. So, I rose up and said, very honestly and from my heart, "I love Haiti!" It was not intended to gain favor, but, rather, was my thought, and to get over my nervousness. The people responded with shouting and I felt better. They loved me. MY! That was better! I said it again with a flood of joy. "I love Haiti." And thus I greeted the audiences wherever I went. It 'broke the ice' for me, so to speak.
(You will hear me say that on the video's and the tapes. As God is my witness, I did it without premeditation or design.)

Well, I preached the Word of the Day. I covered a lot of ground in that first message. Grace, forgiveness of sins, applying the Token, the power of God to heal and deliver by the Spoken Word of faith, the Coming of the Lord at the opening of the Seals..............a lot of ground. There is a video of that meeting somewhere. (I loaned our Church copy out and it never came back.) At the close of the message I challenged the devil to come out of the people as I often do, and spoke healing for cancers and such. (I always like to call that devil 'cancer' by name...he puts such fear in his victims. As you know we have on record over 30 cancer healings in the last three years.) And our lovely Lord Jesus performed many marvelous healings and deliverances among the people. The testimonies came in for months from that one service.

One really outstanding thing that happened that night came after the message when another leading pastor in the city asked to be heard and was invited to the pulpit. He began with a statement that startled many but would prove to be a prophecy throughout Haiti. He said, "We have had divisions before, but now we have something we can all believe." I was humbled and embarrassed because it was I who had preached. But I was thrilled to know that His Word had healed the schism. And, dear friend, as you know, the Church in Haiti is one. Over forty churches, more than a hundred ministers have embraced the things we teach. Bro. Charley's and Bro. Don's emails, and the ministry of the Word of the Day Tabernacle are feeding that vibrant and powerful Body and fueling a revival that is spreading throughout the Caribbean. They are one in doctrine, and in faith, and in Truth. One heart, one accord, and one mind. The powerful anointed ministries of those Haitian pastors and teachers and evangelists...apostles all, are bringing the message of our prophet, the "divinely revealed mystery-truths" to their people and the Token life of Jesus Christ is being revealed in the lives of the Haitian believers. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today, and forever. Hallelujah! And, Amen!

From there we preached at Bro. Conserve's church, then back again to Jardine, then back to Bro. Conserve. I love to preach at Bro. Conserve's church. It is one of my very favorites. And Bro. Conserve absolutely believes and preaches the Word of the Day! God bless this anointed man of God!

Then we went to Petionville. You have heard me tell of the wonderful way that our Lord Jesus brought us to Petionville through the storm on the latest trip. And I described the place and how it is approached through the crowds of the bazaar and across the open sewer. You have heard of the pastor healed of the cancer growing on his head behind his ear. And you have heard me describe on Paltalk how that the Lord performed many marvelous healings there. The Church in Petionville has great faith and an abiding love for the Word. They crowd in to overflowing when we are there and there are always wonderful testimonies coming forth afterwards. The pastor is a very fine and considerate man who loves his church and who loves God's prophet and the Word of the Day. It is always a highlight of the trip when I visit this place. That first time we also met with ministers there and shared the Word and answered questions. We were delighted on our last visit to see the work that was done on the building of which they are so proud, including the new baptismal soon to be ready for use. Thank God for pastors who care so much for God's children and lead them correctly by feeding them the Word. I will return, Lord willing. (M'ta renman al Petionvil, fre, se, mwen. Mwen ta renman rankontre ou anka.)

The remainder of that first trip was spent preaching at various churches in and around Port au Prince. Plans were made for me to return in November for the Annual Convention held at that time and for me to stay over for several weeks and go into the interior to visit in the churches of the provinces. This I did, as you will see.

In one of these churches, I am not certain which one, I was preaching on The Voice. (You have all heard the message on it. It is in the e-Books....on the list somewhere.) Bro. Wilner and I were standing together on the platform and reading from the Scripture when, suddenly, the lights went out. I continued to preach as the deacons scrambled to recover the situation. Everything remained in perfect church order, the people stayed right with me, us. Then, I heard myself saying, "Don't look at a man. It's the Voice. Listen to the Voice. You can't see any man in the dark. Just listen to the Voice. The Word is Light!" It was as if I were somewhere else, myself, listening to the Voice. It was a strange experience for me. Shortly after that the lights were restored (via automobile batteries...this had happened before, I suppose. Anyway, they knew what to do.) When the lights came on everyone was standing. I had heard no sound of them rising, but there they were. And hands were up all over the building as they worshipped the Lord. It was reported later that many received healing and deliverance as they stood in the total blackout listening to the Voice. Don't ask me to type it... but, I can.

Now, before I speak of the ministers meeting that marked the close of this first visit, I wish to drop back and retell the story of my visit into the jungle village where the little girl shown in the picture on the Website was healed. I had a day off from preaching and accompanied Bro. Leveal to Jacmel where he was currently working on an agricultural project. I visited the farm where the wonderful work of growing, testing, and developing the proper strains of corn, maize, beans, etc. are being carried on, and learned of the splendid abilities of our brother as well as the power of his testimony among the people. We were passing through the forest lands when we came upon some believers. They had come with friends to find Bro. Levael and speak with him. Now, Bro. Levael is not a preacher. But he is a true and faithful witness. Bro. Levael and his co-worker who is also a believer, went into the fields with them and witnessed of Christ and His prophet to them. Others arrived, from where I do not know, and then a group of men in a truck joined us. (I have photos of this event which may appear on the Website.)

Then we were directed to a village where a little girl lay in a stupor from a fever. We had to leave our vehicle, even though it is an overland four wheel drive, to get there. The narrow path through the jungle terrain would not allow for our truck. We walked some three quarters of a mile or so through the jungle until we came to a clearing that held several round huts made of mudded over sticks with banana leaves for a roof. I saw a large mound of corn heaped up in the center of this 'village'. It served as food for animals and people, alike. The chickens, the pigs, and the children, as well, nibbled away at the ears. Some were being roasted by a woman in another 'stick house' this one open to the air to allow the smoke of the cooking fires to escape and the breeze to blow in on the occupants. We were led to one of the huts and entered to find a little girl very ill and lying on a mattress. I went over and looked at the child and my heart nearly