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Testimony of Helen Stead (August 2014)

I was born and raised in a small village on the Northern Peninsula. I am one of eight children. As a child we were taught right from wrong. My parents were religious people. We were taught to reverence our church; we went to church and Sunday school. We were taught to respect God and the Lord Jesus Christ. I knew about Jesus all of my life. I knew He had died on the cross for the sins of the whole world. What I didn’t know was that I needed to make it personal and apply it to my heart. I grew up thinking that if I lived as best I could, and did no terrible sin like murder etc., that on the judgment day I would stand a good chance of going to heaven. I knew about heaven and hell and thought if I was really good I would be ok.

At the age of 20 years, I married and my husband was posted in a place in Central Newfoundland. While waiting for a house to live in, we went to live with a family from an evangelical church. To me they seemed strange. They had Bible texts on their walls, and there was a presence in that home that I had never felt before. The lady of the house began to talk to me about Jesus and salvation. I wondered what in the world we had gotten ourselves into. They began to pray for us, and little did I know that the whole church was praying for us.

One Sunday morning she invited me to attend church with her. I tried to find an excuse, but she was very determined and finally I agreed to go. When I walked thought the door, I saw something I had never seen before; people on their knees praying, some with their hands held up. I thought they seemed very noisy. I had never seen such a thing. At my church prayers were read from a prayer book, and our church had taught us to say prayers like the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed. We were taught the Ten Commandments. Grace was always said at our table before meals. So this sort of thing was all new to me. I was amazed. I asked my friend what they were doing and she said they were praying for souls.

We sat in the service; I felt very out of place. The pastor preached a sermon on “you must be born again.” I thought to myself, “That is not in my Bible.” When finishing his message, it was as if he was speaking directly to me. He said, “Don’t take my word for it. When you go back home, look up St. John’s Gospel 3 in your own Bible.”

When I got home, I got my Bible out. I had a Bible that was given to me by my parents when I left home. I always kept it in my bottom drawer. I took it out and opened it, it was like brand new. It was never opened before and of course, never read. So I found the scripture the pastor had referred to and sure enough it was there like he said. I started from there to read my Bible and for weeks, I just studied and studied the Bible. I knew those people must have been praying for me. The more I read, the hungrier I got. I just couldn’t seem to get enough of God’s word.

One day after supper, I felt an urgent need to pray. Kneeling beside my bed in January, 1962, I accepted Christ as my Savior, realizing I was a lost sinner and I needed the blood of Jesus to cleanse my sinful heart. I arose from my place of prayer a new, born again, creature. My prayers didn’t save me, my tears didn’t save me; the Lord Jesus Christ saved me. The presence of the Lord filled my heart. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

Through the years, I have suffered many things: sickness, separation and loss of loved ones. There have been times I have walked in paths of my own making. There was a time I thought I may have lost my salvation. Now I know I am secure in Christ. “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37). “I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish” (John 10:28).

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