Welcome to the Little History Page. Here you will find short stories that you may or may not know from your christian history.
Who was Christmas Evans? (1766–1838)
Johanna Evans gave birth to a son on December 25, 1766; she and her husband, Samuel, decided to name him Christmas. Their humble home was in Llandyssul, Cardiganshire, Wales, a land of wild scenery and fiery preaching. Little did they know that their boy would grow up to become one of the greatest pulpit masters Wales would ever produce.
Samuel died while Christmas was a child, so his mother sent him to the farm of her brother, James Lewis. Christmas remained there for six miserable years. Lewis was a cruel man and a drunkard. Christmas received no education—at seventeen he could neither read nor write—and no moral or religious training. He was repeatedly involved in fights; only the providence of God kept him from being killed. Once he was stabbed, and once he nearly drowned. In one of these brawls he lost his right eye; for the remainder of his life he had to daub the empty socket with laudanum to ease the pain.
When Christmas was seventeen, he left the farm and went to work for a Presbyterian minister. He was caught up in a revival in the church and was soundly converted. Within a short time he learned to read and write, and he even began to minister in a small way. In those days it was customary to hold cottage meetings for the poorer people, and Evans used to occasionally preach or pray. He later admitted that he memorized sermons and prayers that he found in books.
As he studied his Bible, his religious convictions changed, and in 1786 he joined the Baptist church. So effective was his ministry of the Word that the church ordained him in 1790 and sent him to an area where the work was small and struggling. He took his bride to Lleyn, trusted God, and saw a time of rich blessing.
The preaching tradition in Wales is a very strong one. In those days, huge crowds of people attended preaching festivals to hear men declare the Word of God. These annual gatherings would draw as many as twenty-five thousand people into the natural amphitheaters. The Welsh people have poetry, song, and preaching in their blood. And the more dramatic and imaginative the preaching, the better they like it.
Christmas Evans first came into prominence at a Baptist Association preaching festival. The crowd was waiting for two of their spellbinding preachers to show up when someone suggested that it would be a good thing to warm up the crowd so they would be ready. One of the ministers suggested, “Why not ask the one-eyed lad from the North? I hear he preaches quite wonderfully.” Christmas Evans instantly agreed to preach and took Colossians 1:21 as his text.
One of the traditions of Welsh preaching is “catching the hwyl.” I once discussed this subject with the late Dr. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, himself a Welshman and a master preacher. He explained that the Welsh word hwyl means “the canvas of a ship.” In preaching it refers to “catching the wind of the Spirit” and being carried along with great spiritual power. Often the preacher would move the crowds by raising his voice to a high-pitched falsetto—“oratory on fire”—as he was caught up in the power and unction of the Spirit.
Christmas Evans caught the hwyl that day. The people began to move closer to the preacher, amazed that the tall, bony, ill-dressed farm youth had such power with words and over people. He was the talk of the festival, the newest preaching sensation in Wales.
Wiersbe, Warren W.. 50 People Every Christian Should Know (pp. 54-55). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition
This is That by Aimee Semple McPherson
Memories of the Philadelphia Camp Meeting, by Elder George Lloyd.
Ever since the blessed Camp at Philadelphia the Spirit has prompted me to write and try and tell of some of the wonderful things witnessed there. And that is the most difficult part, to tell of the most wonderful things, for it was all wonderful, and our God was there in mighty power. It was not the great number of definite and glorious healings that we witnessed that appealed to the Spirit most urgently, for we know that our God is a mighty God, and we know that Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever. Praise His glorious name! And we know that Jesus can and does heal, and that He loves to heal all that come to Him in true penitence and faith.
And then there were the many soul-searching messages in tongues, with prompt and beautifully true interpretations, many, many of them. And then came the heavenly drama, with various and beautiful acts of the Holy Ghost, shown forth by the precious saints, for they were in the Spirit. Glory to Jesus.
And the great number of converts, it was glorious, for we never witnessed so many cases of clean-cut salvation before, where the dear ones would come weeping their way to the altar, some falling under the power on their way. And when they had prayed through they were ready to testify to a salvation that saves.
One blessed scene comes before us often, and we can see that great congregation of blood-washed saints, with uplifted hands, pouring out their hearts to God in earnest prayer, until the sound resembled the rushing of a mighty river of waters, in its volume. And when the spirit of prayer had continued many minutes, there was heard a new sound, and the prayer was changed to a song of holy adoration, even praises to our King. Hallelujah!
And as the holy anthem broke forth, Sister McPherson seemed to float toward the piano, with uplifted hands and transfigured face, and commenced to play and sing in the Spirit. We had heard spiritual songs before, but never like this; never such tones from a piano had our ears heard before, and as verse after verse of the holy anthem was given to our Sister with tongues and interpretation, and the saints who were in the Spirit would all join in the glorious chorus, we were transported with ecstacy, and we were in the Spirit and were singing the New Song without any effort on our part.
Oh, the precious, heavenly music! Who can in any way describe it? We could only compare it to an aeolian harp with its rising and falling cadence, and its sweet, blended harmonies, only far sweeter and more pure in tone than the finest pipe organ, for this was the Holy Ghost playing upon God's great instrument not made with hands. Glory to Jesus!
So the glory seemed to increase over the white city of tents until the last great day of the feast, and on the last night of the blessed meetings, when the last "God be with you" had been sung, and the congregation was dismissed, there remained a large class of disciples who had tarried for their anointing for service to our King. The dear ones took their places in line, waiting patiently and prayerfully their turn for their anointing for service until the early morning hours, and God was very near with mighty power, and we pray that the anointing received by the dear ones shall go with them to their different homes and assemblies, and kindle the Pentecostal fires anew and keep them brightly burning until Jesus comes.
As for myself, I just praised God for the anointing that remains with me, for I am conscious of a new power such as I never had before, and a determination to give all that I have and all that I am into His glorious service. And as we left the blessed tabernacle and went to our tent and cot for an hour of needed rest before our journey homeward, we looked up to the starlit morning sky and praised our dear Heavenly Father for the glad privilege of spending twenty days in Heaven, in Whose precious Name be glory forever. Amen
Excellent Article about John Oxtoby
https://www.revival-library.org/prayer_makes_history/oxtoby_john.shtml?ml_subscriber=1700094408193476571&ml_subscriber_hash=x1v3&utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=revival_library_newsletter_june_2021&utm_term=2021-08-28
Johanna Evans gave birth to a son on December 25, 1766; she and her husband, Samuel, decided to name him Christmas. Their humble home was in Llandyssul, Cardiganshire, Wales, a land of wild scenery and fiery preaching. Little did they know that their boy would grow up to become one of the greatest pulpit masters Wales would ever produce.
Samuel died while Christmas was a child, so his mother sent him to the farm of her brother, James Lewis. Christmas remained there for six miserable years. Lewis was a cruel man and a drunkard. Christmas received no education—at seventeen he could neither read nor write—and no moral or religious training. He was repeatedly involved in fights; only the providence of God kept him from being killed. Once he was stabbed, and once he nearly drowned. In one of these brawls he lost his right eye; for the remainder of his life he had to daub the empty socket with laudanum to ease the pain.
When Christmas was seventeen, he left the farm and went to work for a Presbyterian minister. He was caught up in a revival in the church and was soundly converted. Within a short time he learned to read and write, and he even began to minister in a small way. In those days it was customary to hold cottage meetings for the poorer people, and Evans used to occasionally preach or pray. He later admitted that he memorized sermons and prayers that he found in books.
As he studied his Bible, his religious convictions changed, and in 1786 he joined the Baptist church. So effective was his ministry of the Word that the church ordained him in 1790 and sent him to an area where the work was small and struggling. He took his bride to Lleyn, trusted God, and saw a time of rich blessing.
The preaching tradition in Wales is a very strong one. In those days, huge crowds of people attended preaching festivals to hear men declare the Word of God. These annual gatherings would draw as many as twenty-five thousand people into the natural amphitheaters. The Welsh people have poetry, song, and preaching in their blood. And the more dramatic and imaginative the preaching, the better they like it.
Christmas Evans first came into prominence at a Baptist Association preaching festival. The crowd was waiting for two of their spellbinding preachers to show up when someone suggested that it would be a good thing to warm up the crowd so they would be ready. One of the ministers suggested, “Why not ask the one-eyed lad from the North? I hear he preaches quite wonderfully.” Christmas Evans instantly agreed to preach and took Colossians 1:21 as his text.
One of the traditions of Welsh preaching is “catching the hwyl.” I once discussed this subject with the late Dr. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, himself a Welshman and a master preacher. He explained that the Welsh word hwyl means “the canvas of a ship.” In preaching it refers to “catching the wind of the Spirit” and being carried along with great spiritual power. Often the preacher would move the crowds by raising his voice to a high-pitched falsetto—“oratory on fire”—as he was caught up in the power and unction of the Spirit.
Christmas Evans caught the hwyl that day. The people began to move closer to the preacher, amazed that the tall, bony, ill-dressed farm youth had such power with words and over people. He was the talk of the festival, the newest preaching sensation in Wales.
Wiersbe, Warren W.. 50 People Every Christian Should Know (pp. 54-55). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition
This is That by Aimee Semple McPherson
Memories of the Philadelphia Camp Meeting, by Elder George Lloyd.
Ever since the blessed Camp at Philadelphia the Spirit has prompted me to write and try and tell of some of the wonderful things witnessed there. And that is the most difficult part, to tell of the most wonderful things, for it was all wonderful, and our God was there in mighty power. It was not the great number of definite and glorious healings that we witnessed that appealed to the Spirit most urgently, for we know that our God is a mighty God, and we know that Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever. Praise His glorious name! And we know that Jesus can and does heal, and that He loves to heal all that come to Him in true penitence and faith.
And then there were the many soul-searching messages in tongues, with prompt and beautifully true interpretations, many, many of them. And then came the heavenly drama, with various and beautiful acts of the Holy Ghost, shown forth by the precious saints, for they were in the Spirit. Glory to Jesus.
And the great number of converts, it was glorious, for we never witnessed so many cases of clean-cut salvation before, where the dear ones would come weeping their way to the altar, some falling under the power on their way. And when they had prayed through they were ready to testify to a salvation that saves.
One blessed scene comes before us often, and we can see that great congregation of blood-washed saints, with uplifted hands, pouring out their hearts to God in earnest prayer, until the sound resembled the rushing of a mighty river of waters, in its volume. And when the spirit of prayer had continued many minutes, there was heard a new sound, and the prayer was changed to a song of holy adoration, even praises to our King. Hallelujah!
And as the holy anthem broke forth, Sister McPherson seemed to float toward the piano, with uplifted hands and transfigured face, and commenced to play and sing in the Spirit. We had heard spiritual songs before, but never like this; never such tones from a piano had our ears heard before, and as verse after verse of the holy anthem was given to our Sister with tongues and interpretation, and the saints who were in the Spirit would all join in the glorious chorus, we were transported with ecstacy, and we were in the Spirit and were singing the New Song without any effort on our part.
Oh, the precious, heavenly music! Who can in any way describe it? We could only compare it to an aeolian harp with its rising and falling cadence, and its sweet, blended harmonies, only far sweeter and more pure in tone than the finest pipe organ, for this was the Holy Ghost playing upon God's great instrument not made with hands. Glory to Jesus!
So the glory seemed to increase over the white city of tents until the last great day of the feast, and on the last night of the blessed meetings, when the last "God be with you" had been sung, and the congregation was dismissed, there remained a large class of disciples who had tarried for their anointing for service to our King. The dear ones took their places in line, waiting patiently and prayerfully their turn for their anointing for service until the early morning hours, and God was very near with mighty power, and we pray that the anointing received by the dear ones shall go with them to their different homes and assemblies, and kindle the Pentecostal fires anew and keep them brightly burning until Jesus comes.
As for myself, I just praised God for the anointing that remains with me, for I am conscious of a new power such as I never had before, and a determination to give all that I have and all that I am into His glorious service. And as we left the blessed tabernacle and went to our tent and cot for an hour of needed rest before our journey homeward, we looked up to the starlit morning sky and praised our dear Heavenly Father for the glad privilege of spending twenty days in Heaven, in Whose precious Name be glory forever. Amen
Excellent Article about John Oxtoby
https://www.revival-library.org/prayer_makes_history/oxtoby_john.shtml?ml_subscriber=1700094408193476571&ml_subscriber_hash=x1v3&utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=revival_library_newsletter_june_2021&utm_term=2021-08-28