We all went into the school house and went on with the service. We found afterwards why the devil opposed me and did not want me there. There was a bootlegger in the audience, who, when hearing me relate the experience, got to thinking about it, became convicted and got saved. When we were leaving to go home, Brother Keutzer asked me how I was going to get home; was I going to walk? "No," I said, "I am going to ride and we will have no trouble with the car." The devil had lost his hold on that bootlegger and we had no further trouble with the car.
The first time I was called to the Koglin home to hold services was in winter and very cold. The address given me was Thief River Falls, but did not state the number of the rural route, so there was no way for me to get to their place that evening, and I had only enough money to take me to Steiner, which was my destination. I asked at the depot whether I could stay there, but they said "No," because they closed up over night. So I left my grips there and went out to see what I could find, for there was no one in the city that I knew. I saw a light in a chapel and went in, thinking I might get an opportunity to testify, and that someone might invite me home with them. I got a chance to testify all right, but no one invited me to go home with them. I walked around the city and went into a restaurant, sat down and got warmed up. But soon they closed.
I kept walking the streets to keep warm, and after a while a man caught up with me and said, "Well, some one else is out walking in this cold weather, twenty below." I agreed that it was surely cold. He asked me whether I lived there, and I told him that my home was in Paynesville,
Minnesota. Then he said, "What is your name?" I told him, "S. O. Susag,"
and he then replied, "I used to know a man by that name who was in the grocery business on Franklin and Minnehaha in Minneapolis." He turned to me in the darkness and said, "I am Erickson of the firm of Rudda and Erickson that used to be on Cedar Avenue in Minneapolis."
It turned out that he was a good friend of years ago, so he soon found out why I was there. He asked me whether I had a hotel room yet. I told him, no, that I was just looking around. Nevertheless, he offered me money to pay for a room at the hotel. I refused it, but he insisted, saying, "If our spare room was empty I would have taken you to my home, but we have friends from North Dakota visiting us today, but you come to our home for breakfast in the morning before you take the train." He never knew what a blessing he was to me in the hour of my great need.
SPEAKING IN TONGUES
At the State Camp meeting at Wilmar, Minnesota, I was asked to preach in Scandinavian as there were some sixty elderly Scandivanian people who did not understand the English language. I agreed to do so. As soon as I had begun to preach the whole camp came in to listen. When the service was over people asked why Brother Susag did not preach in Scandinavian in the afternoon. Brother Ring told them that he had done so. However, they insisted that I had spoken in English, since the whole camp, they said, had come in and heard me preach in English. The fact is: I had spoken in Scandinavian and the Lord interpreted it to them in English.
THE FUR COAT
At one time I was in great need of a fur coat, for the winters are very cold in the northern states and Canada. So I set my heart on having a fur-lined coat listed in the Sears Roebuck catalogue for $57.25. I asked the Lord if I could have it and He answered, "Yes."
Shortly after this matter had been decided, a brother came to me and said, "You need a fur coat and here are ten dollars to start toward it." Others wrote sending money specifying that it was for a fur coat until I had $36.50. Then a whole year pa.s.sed and nothing came. The following November I went to Rice Lake, Wisconsin to hold a meeting for Bro. E. G. Ahrendt. It was very cold and there was lots of snow. On my arrival Brother Ahrendt said to me, "Haven"t you got a fur coat, Brother Susag?" I answered, "Yes."
He said, "Why don"t you wear it this cold weather?" I answered, "I have it by faith--have had it for a year and a half and have $36.50 laid by for it that was given me towards buying a coat, but the price is $57.25." Then Bro. Ahrendt went upstairs and was gone for a long time. When he came down again, he said, "Brother Susag, before you leave here you are going to have a fur coat." I said, "Is that faith or presumption?" To which he replied, "If it isn"t faith, I have never had faith." I said, "Praise the Lord; good for you and good for me."
When the meeting was over Brother Ahrendt said, "Did you get the fur coat?"
I told him, "No." He then asked me where I was going tomorrow night from here, and I told him that I was going ten miles out in the country to a little meeting house for a service. He said, "I"ll go with you."
After the service that night Brother Ahrendt again asked, "Did you get your fur coat?" I said, "No." Upon, which he inquired where I was going that evening. I told him that a family had invited me to their home and had offered to take me to another railroad over which I would be able to reach home sooner. Brother Ahrendt declared that he was going with me until he saw my last foot safe in the train, "and," he said, "if you haven"t got the fur coat by then I"ll not know what to think of myself or my faith." (By way of explanation would say here, that the offerings I received went for my general expenses; the money for my fur coat was to come from other sources. The Lord had promised me the fur coat.)
That night I had a dream. I woke up about three o"clock in the morning, and as I stirred a little, Brother Ahrendt whispered, "Are you awake?" I told him I was. "Did you have a dream?" he asked. I answered, "Yes, a woman came to me and gave me four bills!" "The fur coat! the fur coat!" he excitedly said. We got so happy that we couldn"t sleep any more and we shouted, "Glory to G.o.d!" We made so much noise that we disturbed the folks down stairs, and when we went down they said, "What is the matter with you brethren making so much noise?" We told them we were so happy that we could not help ourselves.
After a while the sister asked me to come out into the kitchen. She gave me a chair and I sat down. She at once began to unburden her mind and said, "Did you understand when I spoke to you at the campmeeting at St. Paul Park three or four years ago that I was intending to give you some money for your trip to Europe?" I answered, "Yes, I thought so." "But" she said, "you said you had the fare." "Yes," I answered, "I had it by faith." Then in surprise, she asked, "But didn"t you have the money in your possession?
Weren"t you then already on your way to Europe?"
"I was on my way to Europe," I answered, "but did not have all my fare--only by faith."
She then told me that she had been sick for about two years. She said, "I have been prayed for often, and have received some help, yet I gradually got worse. Finally," she said, "I got desperate about it and said to the Lord, "What"s the matter with me anyway; I cannot get well and I cannot die?" Then the Lord said, "Do you know the Brother you intended to give some money before he went to Europe?" I said, "Yes, in a way, but he"s back now." The Lord said, "That does not make any difference; how much was it?"
"Fifteen dollars," was my answer. "That"s right," the Lord said, "but there is ten dollars interest on that now." "I"ll give it to him the first time I see him," I said. Then I was prayed for and healed at once." Having said this, she handed me the money, "Here it is," and it was four bills! I took it and commenced to shout the glory of G.o.d. In came Bro. Ahrendt and I held up the four bills for him to see. He shouted, "The fur coat, the fur coat!"
Then I related my experience to her of my praying for a fur coat and said to her, "If you had given me the money when I came back from Europe I would not have had to suffer cold for about a winter and a half." The sister was healed and blessed, and I was kept warm for many a day inside that fur coat.
A number of years ago I was called to go to Wales, North Dakota, to hold a meeting at Brother Paul Garber"s home, which was a Great Northern box car.
The weather was very cold, the temperature being twenty degrees below zero.
After the first evening service a woman came to me and said, "I am the sheriff"s wife and I want you to come home with me. I cannot allow you to stay here." I went with her and the next day we got the Methodist church in which to hold our services.
More than half the people who attended the services were Catholics. On the last evening as I was going out of the church, the butcher of the town shook hands with me, putting three silver dollars in my hand and said, "You come back soon."
I surely had a fine stay with the sheriff and his wife, and the day I was leaving the sheriff was at the depot with a delegation representing the business men of the town saying to me, "We wish you would come back soon."
I said to them, "What"s your reason for wanting me to come back soon, since the butcher was the only business man of the city who came out to my meeting?" "When you come back," they said, "we will all come to your services, because many people have come and paid up their old bills and made good their outlawed notes since you have been here." I am sorry that I never had the opportunity of going back there again.
A number of the saints at Wales moved to Grand Forks, N. Dakota, and were a great blessing and an a.s.set to that congregation. Later on, sixty-three adults and children moved to Benton Harbor, Michigan, and I understand that an English and a German congregation was started at that place through their efforts.
One time Brother Renbeck and I went to Bro. Bahr"s to pray for Willie, a son of theirs, who had the scarlet fever, and after we had prayed I felt that I should stay a little longer. I lay down on the lounge and fell asleep. All of a sudden Sister Bahr called and said, "I believe Willie is dying," and when I laid my hands on him he was so hot that the heat seemed to go right through my whole body. I kept on rebuking the sickness and the devil, but it didn"t seem to help any.
I prayed, "Lord, heal this boy to Thy glory. If no other way, I am willing to take this sickness upon myself, just so you get the glory of healing the boy." In a few minutes he was sound asleep, perfectly healed! But I felt as though I was sore all over my body. When I went out into the cold winter weather the cold would smart what seemed to be sores on my face, and when I got to the chapel to preach I felt ashamed to get up before the audience because I thought the folks would see the sores on my face, although I knew it was an imposition of the devil. When I got into the pulpit I told the people how I felt, and asked them to pray, and immediately the feeling left me. I learned the lesson not to be willing to take a devil"s sickness in order to get people healed.
In 1942 as I was coming from the West coast to Wolf Point, Montana, I took the bus thirty-eight miles from there where another road turns off to go to my son"s place, a mile and a half off the highway. It had snowed quite a bit and was somewhat stormy, but I thought I could make it. However, I had not walked far until I had to throw my grips into the ditch and tried to go on, but the snow was so deep I could not make it walking. My only way was to lie down in the road and roll. I kept that up quite a while, and when I got tired I would just lie and rest. After I had gotten a quarter of a mile I was so worn out that it seemed as though there was no hope for me. I rolled over to a fence post and stood up and tied myself to it, thinking that if I did freeze to death folks would be able to find my body. After I had been standing quite a while praying, I felt as though I was getting my strength again, so I loosened myself from the fence post and started to roll again and then tried to walk on my knees, but that would not do. The snow was too loose--I went down. Toward evening I had reached the highest spot from which I could be seen from my son"s house. He was coming from the barn and happened to see me, and then quickly came to meet me and very soon led me safely to his home. So the Lord had mercy on me once more.
One time I received a telegram from Brother Fortner of Brookings, S. Dakota asking me to come at once. I arrived there late in the evening and found that their son, Clarence, was seriously ill at the hospital in Huron, eighty-three miles from Brookings. The folks thought we had better wait until the following morning to go. Brother and Sister Fortner, another son, and the pastor all went with me in my car.
Clarence had been saved but had gotten away from the Lord. On our trip from Brookings, on the highway we drove eighty miles an hour and the pastor said, "Brother Susag, you do not need to go so fast." I thought that I would slacken down but the car was still going eighty miles; the pastor called again, "Brother Susag, you need not go so fast." I said nothing but felt rather sad that I was hurting the pastor"s feelings, but still I was going eighty. Finally the pastor spoke sternly, "Brother Susag, you don"t need to go that fast." I felt sad, but said nothing, yet in spite of myself and the pastor, I was still going eighty miles an hour.
On arriving at the hospital the young man said, "I have gotten back to the Lord and this morning at three o"clock He said to me that at nine o"clock Brother Susag would be here to take you home." He had the clock standing on the chair and it was just nine o"clock when we arrived! The pastor walked out. (This occurred before the laws governing speed went into effect, but law or no law, the Lord wanted me there at nine o"clock.)
GETTING IN TROUBLE FOR OBEYING THE WORD OF G.o.d
A brother minister got the idea in his mind that wife and I were covetous, but we did not at the time realize to what extent it had affected him.
Previous to his leaving the state he brought the matter before the body of ministers so as to have them deal with us. The ministers told him that they had not seen any indication of coveteousness in Brother and Sister Susag, and then asked him what proof he had for thinking so. He answered, "They do not give enough." (Our custom was never to tell anyone what we gave, because the Bible says, "Let not your left hand know what your right hand doeth.")
We were called before the Ministerial a.s.sembly and the matter was taken up.
The brethren said that they had not seen any indication of coveteousness in us and all the brother had against us was that we hadn"t been giving enough, and, said they, "After thinking it over, neither did we know what you were giving." To which I replied, "If I"m coveteous, I"m the one that ought to know it, so won"t you brethren, please help me out?" This is what they suggested: "You tell us how much you give and then we can compare." I answered, "If I tell you how much I give, won"t it be fair for you folks to tell how much you give?" Whereupon the chairman replied, "Yes, that will be fair; I know you cannot give as much as me since my income is larger; but you and Bro. A---- should give about the same amount." So they all told what they had given for the year. I then added the amounts and found the total, and getting my grip, took out of it receipts for what wife and I had given and asked the brethren to add them up. Then I requested them to add up what the seven ministers had given and, to the great surprise of all of us, they found that wife and I had given $22.50 more than all seven ministers together. This was one of the "all things" in my life.
When I was the evangelist at a certain State Camp meeting, a lady, who had only been to our services that morning, got saved at that Sunday morning service, and having to leave the meeting right away, wanted to be baptized before going. Three sisters came to me in protest, and said, "You are not going to baptize that woman with all those rings on, are you?" I answered, "Please leave that sister and her rings alone." To which they replied, "If you baptize that woman with all those rings, we will never have confidence in you again." I answered, "I"m very sorry, but let"s pray about it; you go over in the timber in that direction and I will go over in this direction in the timber and pray and prepare for the baptizing."
As the woman, who was to be baptized, stepped into the water, she exclaimed, "Oh!" as if something was hurting her, then stripping the rings off her fingers she threw them into the sand, never more to put them back on her fingers.
In response to an urgent call to come to St. Paul Park I forthwith prepared to go, although not knowing the reason I was summoned. When ready to start, at the request of my wife, I consented to take along a rag carpet which she had made for the Old People"s Home out there. I put the carpet into a sack and checked it to St. Paul, rechecking it from there to St. Paul Park. The baggage man asked me whether I had a trunk or a grip. I informed him I had a sack. In answer to his inquiry as to what was in it, I told him, "Clothing." While riding on the next train the devil said to me, "You"re a pretty nice preacher; you lied to the baggage man; instead of telling him clothing was in the sack you should have said it was cloth or rag carpet."
"Well," I said, "I can make that right on my return trip." On my arrival at the Park I found that Brother Krutz had lost his mind. When I met him he did not know me. I went to praying and tried to talk to him and after a while he knew me. He said, "Brother Susag, Brother Susag, you are pure gold, pure gold." Then looking at me intently, pointing his finger at my heart, he said, "What do I see, a tiny spot?" No--doubt the enemy wanted to hinder me in praying for him. The incident bothered me a little bit, so I went out into the woods and the Lord showed me that it was just an imposition of the devil to bother me. Brother Krutz was prayed for and the Lord healed him and the next Sunday he preached.
PRAYING FOR EGGS AND KEROSENE
Brother Ahrendt and I were holding some meetings in the locality between Bertha and Hewitt, Minnesota. We were staying in a log house--just the two of us. We ran out of kerosene, and were also out of money. Brother A---- took the can and started to walk to Hewitt--a distance of six or seven miles--in the snow, hoping to meet some brethren who would ask him why he was carrying that can--but he met no one. He went to the post office, got the mail and concluded that he would have to go back without the kerosene; however, on opening one of the letters a dime dropped out. He immediately went to the store, bought the kerosene and returned home.