<TITLE>03. Par 9-13</TITLE>L-9 Little denominational barriers keep us--our fellowship apart, but God loves us just the same. We're His--His children. His grace overrides the whole thing, and He loves us all. Whether we are white, brown, yellow, black, it doesn't make a bit of difference to Him. We all come from one person, Adam.
Each one of us, whether we're white, brown, black, or yellow, we could transfuse blood to each other, and save each other's life by a blood transfusion. But I'm so thankful that One come, Who was made different from all of us, and through the transfusion of His Blood, we live forever: the Lord Jesus, Who was neither Jew nor Gentile, He was God. God's own Blood was in Him. He was a created Blood. Wasn't through any man. The Holy Spirit overshadowed Mary, and she conceived, and brought forth Jesus Christ, the Son of God, which was... The Blood coming from the male, was God's own Blood, that we're neither Jewish blood or Gentile blood; it was the Blood from Immanuel's veins. So we're so thankful for that. Breaking down all the middle walls of partition, and bringing us in to one lovely fellowship together...

L-10 I see some of my Indian friends are setting back in tonight. So thankful they are here. And God helping me, I think, Saturday, I have services on the reservation. Be one of the high spots of my life, to get back to the Apache, I think it's the Apache Indian reservation, for a service.
I never forget the last night there, talking to the Indians. I guess, maybe they don't even understand English (maybe some of them that's here), but when I tried to speak to them, and tell them that Jesus loved them... Remember friend, that's the real American. That's right. How... They have feelings; they're not made out of sawdust; they're human beings, love the Lord, and the Lord loves them.

L-11 So I remember speaking to them. I called for a prayer line, no one raised up. Usually, you can't keep them out of the prayer line. This way, no one wanted in the prayer line. And I heard some of the Spanish friends... (Say, by the way, where's our little Spanish choir, and those little ladies who sing for us? Wish we could get them together again.) And I heard them say, I don't know whether, "Gloria a Dios." Is that it? It's something like that. "Gloria a Dios," or...
And I thought, "Oh, oh, we'll have a prayer line, 'cause they're around." So they had a great faith. And then in the process, a few moments, the Lord... after we got... The missionary brought some out of a little place there, I was standing on a balcony, preaching. And they brought someone out. It was a--a lady. And the lady, I believe, had a--a social disease, not because she was immoral, but just the way she had to live. And she was so startled to hear me say that. How did I know that? That kinda struck her.

L-12 And next was a little girl (the best I remember) was deaf from a fever. And the Lord Jesus healed her, and she was also--couldn't talk. And she was mumbling off something. And I said to the interpreter, "She'll talk better."
He said, "Hum, her talk heap good now." 'Course I didn't know what... So there was--there was a little cross-eyed boy then healed. Then I really had a prayer line, like a stampede, everybody getting in the prayer line.

L-13 I remember the next one that came, Brother Moore, here, I believe, helped you along the road. A poor, old woman come up to me. She had broom sticks with a piece of cloth, and with rags wrapped on it for a crutch. And when she came, her hair hanging down, she looked up at me, and her poor, old wrinkled face, ditched in with cares of time, the tears running from her dimmed eyes, making their way, down through those trenches in her face. I thought, "Somebody's mother..."
She looked at me. My, such a flow of faith, love, and respect. She never asked me to pray for her; she just looked at me, got a hold of one crutch and the other one, hand them up to me, straightened up, went--walked on away, just like that. The simplicity of faith...


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