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Sonntag, 8. Juli 2012

The Dead are Raised

The Dead are Raised

Not long ago down in Mexico I seen something desperate. I just got to the platform there in the big arena, and the people had been in there since nine o'clock that morning, and it was nearly ten o'clock that night. An old blind man, the night before, totally blind for about thirty years, received his sight, and was going around the city that day testifying. An old rick of clothes, laying for maybe thirty, forty yards, that high, of just old shawls. There's maybe forty, fifty thousand people there. And old hats and shawls... Who they belonged to, I guess they'd have to decide that among them. It pouring down rain... And they let me down a rope over a wall, and I got on the platform. The minister... The man that's setting here, they brought his... Him and his daughter come down from Michigan a few minutes ago, talked about Brother Arment. We remember him here. He's on the streets of glory tonight. Brother Arment was there, and took his overcoat off, and stood in the rain, and give it to Brother Jack Moore to put on, 'cause Jack was shivering. The southerner was about to freeze in that cold rain there in Mexico. And there he was standing there.

And Billy Paul come to me, my son, and said, "Daddy, you'll have to do something. There's a little Mexican woman down there with a dead baby that died this morning. I ain't got enough ushers to hold her out of the line." If laying hands on that blind man give him his sight, laying hands on her dead baby would give it its life. She was a Catholic, and she... They couldn't hold her back. And Brother Espinosa and them had told her that, "We have no more prayer cards; you'll have to wait to another night." She said, "My baby's dead. It's been dead since this morning. I must get in there." And she was coming, prayer card or not. And they lined up about three hundred ushers there. And she'd go right under their legs, and jump right up on top of their backs, and run with this dead baby, and fall down among them. Didn't make any difference to her, she was trying to get there. She was desperate. God had spoke to her heart that the God could give sight, could give life. Oh, my. She was desperate. Something was burning in her.

Oh, sick people, if you'd let that burn in you for a few minutes, watch what happens, that kind of a desperation... The God that could heal this little boy the other night, could heal that lady with cancer, heal this man, and do this, Miss Florence Nightingale, oh, the tens of thousands... He that... Undisputable evidence... Raising the dead, and healing the sick, and everything else, if He's God can do that, He's God yesterday, He's God today. Get desperate, then you'll get something done.

Then in that desperation she kept rushing. I said to Brother Jack Moore; I said, "She don't know me. She's never seen me. She don't know who it is up here on the platform." That little Catholic woman not--couldn't speak a word of English then, how does she know who it is. I said, "Go on down, pray for the baby, and that'll satisfy her, and she'll go on." Said, "And it won't cause..." There's just constant roar down there. She'd jump up, and everybody'd be screaming. She'd run right over the top of their shoulders and fall right down among them. She'd gain a few feet, and then they'd try to put her back out; and here she'd come right between their legs, holding this baby, upsetting the ushers and everything else. Didn't make any difference; she was getting up there. She had to get there; it don't make any difference what it was; she was going to get there, have the minister.

Now, isn't that just a story like the Shunammite woman. Only that wasn't thirty-five hundred years ago; that was about three years ago, or four. See? They can be the same thing tonight. When the same desperation rises will throw love and faith up there to the battlefront to claim what you want, because it's a promise of God that you can have it. That's exactly right.

I turned, me, the minister, the evangelist at--at the place; I turned. I felt sorry for the woman, but there's no desperation. See? I turned and thought, "Well, Brother Jack will pray for her and that--that settles it." I turned, and I said, "As I was speaking, now, faith..." I looked out there, and there was a vision. I seen a little baby setting there, a little black-faced Mexican baby with no teeth. It was laughing at me, setting out there. I said, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute." Her desperation drove the Holy Spirit to change my subject, change my heart, and show me her baby setting there. That sent the Spirit back. I said, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Bring me the baby." Here she come with a little, wet, soaking, blue and white blanket, a little dead form about that long. She fell with a crucifix in her hand and her rosary to say these hail Marys. I told her, "Put it up; that's not necessary." And she come up close to where I was, and she begin to holler, "Padre," which means "father." I said, "Don't say that. Don't say that. Do you believe?" And he said it in Spanish to her, did she believe? "Yes," she believed. He asked her how would she believe. She said, "If God can give that old man his sight, He can give my baby the life." Amen. Desperation drove her to it. Not a thing on my part; I just saw the vision. I said, "Lord Jesus, I saw a vision of a little baby. It might be this one." About that time he kicked its feet, went, "Wha, wha, wha!" I said, "Follow her to the doctor; get a written statement from the doctor, that baby died. And the doctor wrote the statement, "That baby's respiration, heart stopped this morning in my office at nine o'clock, died with double pneumonia."

Oh, the baby is a living in Mexico tonight as far as I know. Why? The desperation set in on a little mother's heart, crying for her child, that had seen God do, heal a man's blind eyes, and know He could raise a dead baby.

(Extract from DESPERATION preached in Jeffersonville by Bro.Branham on 1st. September 1963)

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