<TITLE>25. Par 67-68</TITLE>L-67 With our heads bowed, and if the organist will, just for a moment... I wonder while you're standing here, or setting here, friends, don't take the style of my preaching, take the message, not the messenger. If a man come in that door just now, he might be dressed in rags. He might be, oh, anything. But if he had a telegram for you, that you'd received a million dollars, fell heir to it, you wouldn't notice the messenger, you'd notice the message. And my grammar's poor and different from your pastor; if the way the Lord deals with me is different from it is in your church, don't notice that; but notice what I said. Jesus Christ is raised from the dead. He's living among the churches today, bringing forth that same results, restoring back the faith that was once delivered to the saints. The same signs and wonders are proving and accompanying the ministry of this type. Won't you, today, say to God, while every head bowed and every eye closed... I feel led of the Holy Spirit; though late, I feel led of the Holy Spirit to do this. I want to know. Maybe you'll never meet it again this side of eternity. I don't know, I may never see you again this side of eternity. I may never be in the Church of the Open Door again, but from the depths of your heart, in the Name of Jesus Christ, I ask it, if you really feel your need of God, while you with your heads bowed now and your eyes closed (let God and I look), raise up your hand. Say, "I really, Brother Branham, I'm convinced that I need more than what I've got." God bless you. God bless you, you, you, and you. All right. God bless you. If there's three hundred people in here this morning, there's two hundred and fifty hands up, showing what it means.
There is a fountain filled with Blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins.
When sinners plunged beneath the flood
Lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
There may I, though vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
Ever since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supplied,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.
And in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.

L-68 Some glorious day when you pass by my grave, some of you younger people, if Jesus tarries... want you to remember, say, "There lays poor old Brother Branham, but he sweated his life out for his convictions. He loved the Lord Jesus. I believe the man done his best. I set in his meeting one day. There's where I accepted Christ." May the Lord bless you. While you have your heads bowed, my heart's getting heavy. Brother Cauble, come here just a minute. With your heads bowed... Lead us in prayer while I stand here a minute if you will.

