<TITLE>13. Par 48-51</TITLE>L-48 A bosom friend of mine down from Milltown, Indiana, where I pastored a little old Baptist church down there. I'd say, "Brother Cadle, I want you this morning, in the face of the Philadelphian Church, tell me Who you think the Son of God is?" Hallelujah.
If he could walk down tonight he'd say, "I was a drunken sot. I was laying yonder drunk, debauched, and dying. And a little mother out behind a corn crib somewhere praying in the Name of Jesus Christ, when He sent His Angel to deliver me and made a minister that sent thousands of souls to the glory Land."
And I'd say to that little old Boston shoe cobbler, Dwight Moody, "What think ye of Christ?"
If he could rise from the dead this morning, he'd say, "He is the Son of God."

L-49 What would I say this morning if I called little Georgie Carter, my pianist from down at Milltown Baptist church, who laid on her back nine years and eight months, only weighed thirty-six pounds, with TB. It went all the way through her. Her church, the Church of Christ didn't believe in Divine healing. She heard a testimony. And if she could stand here and testify this morning...
One day there, where I never seen her, knowed nothing about her, and the Angel of the Lord come to me and said, "Go down to Milltown." I didn't even know where it was at. And went down there, and today, after eight or nine years ago, she's a living testimony of the power of God.
She'd say, "Jesus Christ is the Son of God that raised from the dead and reproduced Hisself incarnated. He has appeared in the way of a vision and has spared my poor life."

L-50 What if I could go to London, England, this morning and call Florence Nightingale, and bring her here to testify on this platform this morning, she'd say, "I was laying with a cancer on the duodenal of the stomach. And all hopes was gone. I weighed in the regions of thirty or forty pounds. And there that day Brother Branham, when you were kneeling praying God sent a little dove rushing through the bushes, and come set down on the window there. And when the Voice of God come and said, 'I would live,' and I live by the grace of God and by the power of the resurrection of His Son."
What think ye of Christ? Whose Son is He?
You say, "Preacher, what you think of Christ? Whose Son is He?" Oh, brother, my heart wouldn't let me bleed it out. He's the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley, the Morning Star, the Alpha, Omega, He that was, which is, and shall come (Hallelujah.), the Son of the living God, my Saviour, my Healer, my King. Oh, the present tense of Him now illuminates my soul and burns every fiber in my body with His glorious Presence."

L-51 How could I speak or find words to say what He was. When Isaiah got all tangled up and said, "He--He's the--He's the Father, the everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, the mighty God, how great He was." He said, "He's wonderful." He couldn't even speak it, how could I say it?
Every man or every woman that ever amounted to anything in this life are men and woman who believed Him to be the Son of God. Every poet, every author, every thing else that ever amounted to anything believed He was the Son of God.


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