The remarkable true life story of Peter Newman (Part 9)

Photo: www.andyespin.com

Never the Same Again

So the great evangelist came and went, and my life settled back into its usual routine of window cleaning, walking in the hills and preaching in local churches. The days ran into weeks, the weeks into months.

One day my sister asked me if I'd ever thought of getting married. I said that I felt marriage was not for me and that my eye was on the call of God. In my own wisdom I thought that marriage would be a hindrance. Perhaps my subconscious reminded me of the anger of that minister's wife when he had tried to help me. I headed for town to keep an appointment with some dirty windows.

I reached the traffic lights as they turned green and was about to drive on when a Salvation Army officer rode straight across my path on her bicycle while her lights were on red. She was in full uniform, bonnet and all and she had a little dog in the basket in front of the handlebars. She was pedalling with such concentration that she didn't even notice me brake to avoid hitting her.

"Typical," I thought, "just because she's in the Army she thinks she can do anything and go anywhere. It's a good thing God's got His hand on her, otherwise she'd be splattered across the bonnet of my car by now." I was in the middle of mentally giving her a piece of my mind when something seemed to go "ping". "Cupid" had shot the arrow. Then God spoke to me. "That's the girl you're going to marry, Peter," he said. "I've chosen her for you."

Without losing a second, I changed direction and set off to find out where she lived. I could hardly let the girl I was going to marry pedal out of my life before she had properly pedalled into it. I drove up one street, then another, and then I saw her Salvation Army bonnet bobbing up and down. I followed behind and watched her turn into a side street. She got off her bike and went into a house. I got out of my car, made some inquiries and discovered it was the Salvation Army officers' quarters. Straight away I felt very led to clean their windows for them. When I finished I knocked on the door. The girl on the bike answered it and we soon got chatting. I discovered she was called Barbara.
I floated home on air. "I've met the girl I'm going to marry," I said to my sister as soon as I opened the front door. She seemed confused. "But I thought you weren't going to get married," she said, "and anyway, does this girl know you're going to marry her? It all seems mighty quick to me."

"No, she doesn't know yet," I answered. "I only met her today."

"Goodness me, Peter," said my sister as she sank into a chair. "You really are the limit, you know. You can't just marry the girl without letting her know about it first. You want to get some of these silly ideas out of your head. If you're going to marry this what-ever-she's-called, then you're going to have to court her and take her out like any other normal young man. You can't just meet her one day and wed her the next. Honestly, I sometimes wonder what sort of religion you've got!"

I smiled at her and went to unload the car. She was perfectly right, of course, so I decided to ride over to the house and ask Barbara out. She said yes and our courtship began. We had a lot in common but the most important thing was that we both wanted God's will for our lives and we both wanted to serve Him. We both prayed about our relationship and exactly six months from the day God spoke to me and said she was to be my wife, we were married. The only sad part was that Barbara had to leave the Salvation Army because I wasn't even a member, never mind an officer. She decided to make a clean break, which was not pleasant for her or the Army, but it had to be.

After the wedding we went to live in Barbara's home town of Plymouth. We moved into a flat, attended a Salvation Army hall on Sundays but spent Saturday nights in a little evangelical mission hall. Within months I was preaching all over the place: I was on the Methodist plan and the Baptist and Congregationalist list of speakers. I preached three times on a Sunday and worked hard on a building site during the week.

Bit by bit we started getting a home together. On the surface, everything seemed to be working out well. After a year we had our first little girl, Elaine, and I should have been the happiest man around. But I had a deep sense of frustration. The call of God, which had once so burned in my heart, had somehow been swamped by the pressures of building a home, supporting a family and becoming a prolific preacher. My days were full of activity but somehow I felt there was something important missing.

It was a few months before I found out what it was. Meanwhile I was offered a job which I'd always wanted. I was to be a sales representative. No longer would I need overalls, dungarees and clodhopper boots. I was to have a respectable white collar job. My hands would be nice and clean when I got home at night; I would no longer have to spend a quarter of an hour scrubbing the muck from them before cuddling my young daughter.

So each morning, I left home wearing a smart suit and brandishing a briefcase, the ultimate symbol of my new found success. I earned good money and our future was bright.

I was still a popular preacher. One week Barbara and I were asked to take some evening meetings in a mission hall. Each evening I rushed home from work, grabbed some tea, then bundled myself, Barbara and little Elaine into the car to drive to the little hall where Barbara would sing and I would preach. It was to be a week which would change my whole Christian life.

The beginning of new things started the night we gave a man a lift home. As we drove along he turned to me and said, "Peter, you need the baptism in the Holy Spirit!"
The baptism in the Holy Spirit? How dare he suggest that I wasn't properly saved! I was very annoyed at his impertinence; how could he talk to me, a preacher, in such a way? Who did he think he was?

I think he sensed my disapproval because he immediately started to explain that this baptism in the Holy Spirit was a separate experience to salvation and that it had given the early disciples the power to witness and evangelize.

Now I was interested.

As soon as we got home I opened my Bible and read about the promise of the Comforter in St John's Gospel. Then I turned to the Acts of the Apostles. I'd studied it thousands of times before, yet it was as if I was reading it for the first time. I read about the gift of tongues and other gifts of this Holy Spirit.

I set off in hot pursuit of the subject. I talked about it with Christians from many different denominations and was often surprised at the reaction it brought. Some told me to keep well away from such teaching. They said that surely I realized that the baptism in the Holy Spirit had been for the early church only, and that God was doing things differently now. I discovered that the gift of tongues was a great bone of contention. Some people told me it was from the devil and that I should steer clear of it at all costs. Others I spoke to were far more sympathetic and said that, while they themselves hadn't experienced the baptism in the Holy Spirit, they felt it was a valid experience for the church today. Looking back, I feel a bit sorry for Barbara. All I ever seemed to talk to her about over those weeks was the baptism in the Holy Spirit. She showed an interest in what I said, but she didn't share my insatiable appetite for the subject.

The man who first told me about it got in touch with me and asked me over to his house for tea. I eagerly accepted his invitation and drove to his home with a great feeling of anticipation. "Lord," I prayed as I drove along, "if this experience is for me, then could I have it tonight, please?"

We had our tea, talked about the week's meetings I'd taken in the little mission hall, discussed the state of the world and the Christian church, but we never seemed to get around to talking about the one thing I was desperate to hear about. He kept getting up and down to put records on and I thought, "Lord, isn't he ever going to get on with it and tell me all he knows about the baptism in the Spirit?"

After what seemed like a decade he asked me if I would like to pray with him. We went to his bedroom where we would not be disturbed, and at once he began to pray. By now I was feeling totally exasperated. My mind was full of all sorts of things, but it eventually started to tune in with God. I was praying quietly when I suddenly remembered the scripture which says that if you ask God for the Holy Spirit, then God will give Him to you; He won't give you a stone instead.

"Lord," I prayed silently, "I only want what You have for me. I don't want anything else...." And then it happened. I was miraculously and, in my case, dramatically baptized in the Holy Spirit. The only person I was aware of in that room was God. He was everywhere. I felt that I was being swept along on a tidal wave of His love and power. I don't know how many minutes ticked by, but I remember coming to and being somewhat surprised to find myself jumping up and down on this dear man's bed with my shoes on. I was singing and dancing and praising the Lord in a new language which just kept flowing out from my lips.

I told Barbara all about it when I eventually got home. She didn't say much, but she couldn't deny that something very extraordinary had happened to me. For three whole days I was "drunk" in the Spirit. Every morning I left the house in my sober suit with my briefcase tightly clasped in my hand; but, if anyone stopped to say hello, I could only say, "Hallelujah!" and continue on my way singing and praising God. A week later the man who had prayed with me came to our house and prayed for Barbara, and she too received the baptism of the Holy Spirit.

We were both quickened by the Spirit of God. It's little wonder that the devil has so many people blinded about the necessity of being baptised in the Spirit. It's like dynamite; once you receive it, you're never the same again. The Holy Spirit causes you to thirst and hunger after more of God. Barbara and I found that all we wanted to do was lay our lives unquestioningly before Him. We asked Him to do whatever He wanted with our lives. We were willing to go where He wanted us to go; to speak what He gave us to say. We entered a new realm of yielding. We both felt His presence in a way which we'd never done before. After all those barren, dry months it was as refreshing as the rain itself. The wilderness which had sprung up in our hearts was indeed starting to blossom as a rose. God became our main topic of conversation; we couldn't help but praise Him for leading us into this new experience.

We talked eagerly of going to Bible College. We knew it would be a big step, but we were open to whatever the Lord had for us, and Bible College seemed the logical step. But God doesn't work according to our own understanding. One evening when we were both praying quietly in tongues, I felt God start to give me the interpretation.

Neither of us knew much about the gifts of the Holy Spirit, but what we know in our heads isn't always important in the kingdom of God. Obedience is the key to blessing. God gave me a chapter and a verse to look up in the Bible. I eagerly turned to John 2 verse 27 and read: "But the anointing which you have received of Him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you: but...the same anointing teacheth you of all things." We knew straight away that God was telling us that Bible College was not going to be our next stopping place. We said amen to the will of God. We knew that if college was out, then He had something else in store for us. It still amazes me to think that God has a perfect plan for individual lives. All we need to do is to tune in to Him and wait on Him and He will show us the way.

We were acknowledging Him in all our ways, so He was bound by His word to direct our paths.