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Lallman Singh, Th.B., M.A., Master of Divinity

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My Story of Salvation

Copyright © 2012 by Lallman Singh

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or by any information storage without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Cover design, book design and layout by Jim L. Friesen

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012909111

Printed in the United States of America by Mennonite Press, Inc., Newton, KS, www.mennonitepress.com

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This book is dedicated to my loving wife, Lucille Rookmin Singh, who faithfully labored

with me and supported me in my ministry.

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Finally, I would like to thank Dr. Cherryl Tihal-Antohi for her patience, and for typing

and editing this book.

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1. Early Life ........................................................................1

2. Salvation .........................................................................5

3. Confessions and Restitutions ........................................11

4. Peril at Sea ....................................................................17

5. Marriage .......................................................................23

6. Entire Sanctification ......................................................33

7. Some of My Mistakes ....................................................37

8. Preaching ......................................................................43

9. Origin of the Sermon ....................................................53

10. The Holy Spirit in My Life and Ministry ......................59

11. The Healing Power of God ............................................69

12. Tithing .........................................................................73

13. Does God Cry? .............................................................77

Conclusion .............................................................................83

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few years ago my wife and I were invited to dinner at Dr. and Mrs. David’s home. Another couple was also invited, Reverend and Mrs. Laforce. The dinner was scrumptious and delicious. The host Mrs. Vidya David was disappointed

because I ate small portions. After all, she had done a lot of shopping and preparations for the dinner. However, I was try-ing to adhere to my dietician’s and doctor’s orders. I had to eat small meals and three or four small snacks per day. After the delicious meal, we left the dining room area and we reclined in comfortable sofas in another section of the house. We discussed different subjects and various events. I told my story about salva-tion, coming from another religion and many of the difficulties I had experienced. Reverend Laforce was very impressed and said that I should write a book about it. “I don’t think so,” I replied. After that evening, I reflected upon the idea of writing a book and I thought that it would be a difficult task. I dismissed the whole subject out of my mind. About two years later The Holy Spirit brought the entire event back in my mind. He reminded me about what Reverend Laforce had said regarding writing a book about my life experiences. I desperately tried to dismiss it out of my mind, but in vain. It kept coming back to my mind. Although The Holy Spirit is soft and gentle, He is very persistent. I was still undecided about writing the book. I sat at the dining table in my kitchen and felt so awful and guilty as if I had done something wrong. Suddenly, I felt as though all of the joys in my heart had dried and I was losing my salvation. It seemed as

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though the ceiling above my head was rapidly descending upon me. Feeling very frustrated and empty inside, I immediately rose from the chair and walked toward my bedroom. “Yes, Lord, I will write the book,” I said with determination. Immediately, all of the joys and assurances of my salvation returned to my heart. The Lord had been speaking to me for sometime about writing this book. It had become a crisis, and after much deliberation and contemplation, I decided to write this book. The Lord has since forgiven me.

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he Holy Spirit had always wanted me to write this book. He worked on me for a long time. Perhaps, The Lord was going to use this story of my life – salvation — to help our brothers and sisters in the world. In fact, by nature, I am a Thomas

Didymus. I have to see to believe, I have to feel to believe, and I have to understand to believe. For example, many years ago I knelt down at the Altar in the Pilgrim Holiness church in the island of Leguan along the Essequibo River, Guyana, South America, and I repented. I did everything the Saints told me to do. “You are saved,” said the Saints. “Oh, no,” I replied. “Did you confess your sins and forsake them?” asked the Saints. “Yes, I did confess my sins and forsake them,” I answered. “Then, you are saved,” said the Saints. “I am not saved,” I insisted, “to say that I am saved is being dishonest and it is a lie because I do not see anything, I do not feel anything and I do not understand anything.” Then, one of the Saints quoted the Scriptures. “With the heart man believeth in the righteousness and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.” (Romans 10; 10) Therefore, I confessed that I was saved even though I felt nothing.

A few days later, while I was singing in the rice field — It was a happy day…, perhaps I sang all of the verses, I experienced the first work of grace. Suddenly, I lifted my head and looked northwest towards Caracas, Venezuela. I saw a great bright light approaching me. It was as big as a bowling ball or a basket ball. It entered my whole being and my heart. I witnessed The Holy Spirit and I was born again. I am a child of God. Even though

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this great light came into me I did not feel it touched me physi-cally, yet it came inside of me.

Now on the second work of grace, entire sanctification, I encountered a similar problem. I did everything that The Lord told me to do but I was not entirely sanctified. I almost became fanatical and did things that I was not supposed to do. I was a Pastor and I was not entirely sanctified. People used to laugh at me because I went regularly to the Altar. Some made mocking remarks. Some were my fellow Pastors. I wanted this blessing more than anything else in the whole world. This went on for many years. I kept on asking The Lord to entirely sanctify me. One good day, I was exercising and walking around and around the track and I said as usual: “Lord, sanctify me.” The Holy Spirit firmly replied in an audible voice: “You are sanctified.” It came to me in the form of a sharp rebuke. At once my eyes lit up and I cheered up and I straightened up and strengthened up. Joy and gladness filled my heart. My long awaited expectation was fulfilled. I was entirely sanctified. Even though I was walk-ing around the track on level ground, it felt like as though I was going forward and upward. I raised my hands, my eyes and my heart to heaven. I worshipped, praised, and thanked The Lord for entirely sanctifying me and for the gift of holiness. I did this for a few minutes. I felt the old carnal nature in my heart struggle. The fight in my heart was intense at the beginning and then it got fainter and fainter and died. This lasted less than three minutes. I died and I became extinct on that day. There was nothing in the world like it – it was indescribable. It was the miracle of salvation brought by The Holy Spirit.

That is why The Holy Spirit really wants me to write this book – my story of salvation. All of you out there – John, James, Peter, Mary and Martha — you just have to make two trips to the Altar and you will be saved and sanctified, and you will have the first work of grace and then the second work of grace. Unlike some of

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us, Thomas Didymus had to struggle and he made many trips to the Altar. Thomas Didymus once said: “Unless I see His hands, the print of His nails, and put my fingers in the print of the nails and thrust my hand into His side, I would not believe.” (John 20; 25) That is like me, I have to see to believe, I have to feel to believe, and I have to understand to believe.

The first time I asked Him, He sanctified me and He told me to do some specific things. I kept on asking Him to sanctify me. I did not accept or believe, so I kept on asking Him. The Spirit of God rebuked me. He will do that the first time you ask Him. Just accept it. I could have had this entire sanctification two or three months after I got saved by the first work of grace. Not believing and not going immediately for the second blessing is similar to being engaged in an endless treadmill of endeavor. Either I had to help myself or let someone help me. Not to go at once through the Kadish Barnea is similar to wandering in the wilderness for many years. If one never gives God a chance to display His great masterpiece, one could slide backwards and lose one’s soul. I feel so good about the second blessing of holiness, entire sanctifica-tion. This is why I am writing this book. I apologize for being repetitive but it is consuming my soul. I hope and pray that after reading this book, someone or some people will be helped.

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Chapter 1

t all began in the 1830’s or the 1840’s in the Bay of Bengal in India shortly after the emancipation. My great, great grand-mother lived with her brother in his home. They had a dispute or quarrel. The next day her brother took the laborers out in the

field (most likely the rice field) to work. My great, great grand-mother took my great grandmother who was an infant in her arms and ran down to the harbor and embarked on one of the big ships. These ships were anchored near the harbor in the Bay of Bengal, India and they were transporting laborers to British Guy-ana, South America, now known as Guyana, to work in the sugar plantations. The laborers were under contract and at the end of their contract the British promised to bring them back to India.

They were many on that ship. They took a long and hazard-ous journey over seas and oceans. They crossed the Indian Ocean which is also known as “Phagla Samundar,” meaning The Mad Sea. They came southwest across the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Goodhope. Then, they traveled northwest across the Atlantic Ocean. Their journey led them to the East of Brazil to French Guyana, then to Dutch Guyana, and finally to British Guyana, South America. The name Guyana means The Land of Many Waters. From Venezuela to the northeast of Brazil there are many rivers, the largest of which is the Amazon River. The ship took its journey to British Guyana and emptied its human cargo on an island in the Essequibo River known as Leguan.

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C H A P T E R 2

uddenly, there was something very exciting happening in my hometown. A Christian preacher came into the village and a crowd of people gathered together to lis-ten to the message. Some of the people were impressed

and believed the message, but some Hindus made disturbances and upturned the furniture in the meeting place. Some people were against the preacher but others were interested. I missed the first meeting but I heard that it was very exciting and many people from the community attended. It was very similar to what occurred in Paul’s and Silas’s, and Barnabas’s missionary journeys in Asia Minor. I heard that a man, personally known to me, was seized with such conviction at the meeting that he cried all night and he never came back again. I attended the street meetings and the church services, and I was seized with massive convic-tion. Even though I understood very little, I realized for the first time that I was a sinner and I was going to hell. I was convicted of some wrongful things that I had done, such as stealing the neighbor’s mangoes, guavas and other fruits. I tried to reform my life and did my best to change and become a better person. Every day I tried to do what was right, but as the day progressed, I would say a bad word or I would become angry at someone. I went to church and when the invitation was given, I went to the Altar. I prayed and nothing happened. The church had many people who were seeking The Lord before the congregation and

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C H A P T E R 3

fter I got saved, The Spirit of God started housekeeping in my heart. Our Heavenly Father’s palaces are in heaven. The golden streets are in heaven. His castles are in heaven but His throne is in my heart. I had to apologize to all the kids who received

black eyes from me in school. Two of them were my good friends, but the teacher was the one who initiated the fight. The Lord also asked me to apologize to the farmer whose mangoes and other fruits I had stolen in the past. I told The Lord that I would do it, but whenever I saw the farmer, fear and panic would seize me. He was a fearful person to behold. His color was similar to that of red grapes and his demeanor neither friendly nor approachable. He wore short pants, walked barefooted, and carried a twenty inch long cutlass. Farmers used cutlasses in the farms to cut trees and bushes. Whenever I saw this particular farmer, The Holy Spirit would say to me — “there he goes, there he is, go and speak to him.” Satan would say — “do not do it, you do not know what he will say or do to you.” And this went on for several months. I was losing the victory in my soul, my prayers were not getting through to God, and they would hit the ceiling and bounce back at me. It seemed as though I was in a state of oblivion. Whenever I saw that man, my knees would become weak and I would go into a state of

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C H A P T E R 4

Peril at Sea In the year 1951 or 1952, my family decided to build a new house in Twekesbury, Leguan, Guyana. We had prepared the house lot and the Department of Housing and Sanitation had issued a building permit. It took a lot of negotiation to obtain

that permit. Many carpenters were interested in doing the job. Finally, we settled for one builder. He gave us the list of materials and requirements. We lived on the island of Leguan and we had to go to a neighboring island by the name of Wakenaam for the materials. Now, Wakenaam was west of Leguan going toward Venezuela. I paid for the materials in Wakenaam and unloaded them by the launch dock. I borrowed my friend’s small sailboat and gathered some other friends to help me. We loaded the mate-rials in this little boat. The boards were green in color and heavy and the green color meant that they were not cured. The boat started to go lower and lower into the river and it was downright dangerous to sail. Now, the Essequibo River is six hundred miles long and nineteen miles wide at its mouth. There were three islands parallel to each other. We had to sail southwest to north-east and the distance we needed to cover was about four miles.

There were many people on the shore looking on at our peril. Here was this little boat which was definitely overloaded. “Those three teenagers are going to their deaths,” muttered the onlook-ers. Now, the river was near the Atlantic Ocean and the northeast

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C H A P T E R 5

uring my years at Bible College, Bridgetown, Barbados, West Indies, all of the boys from my class were already engaged to be married or had prospective brides. A cou-ple of the girls were dating the boys while others were

corresponding with people from other countries. I was like a lone ranger since I was not dating anyone. On one sad day one of my colleague’s father died and his girlfriend called him and comforted him. There were tears, sorrow and grief. Another boy would receive his letter from his future wife and he would cry while reading the letter. He read and re-read the letter, reading between the lines all alone in bed at night. Whenever we would swim in the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea he would look longingly across the sea to the next country where his girl resided.

In the late summer of September 1957, the President of the Caribbean Wesleyan College returned to Barbados from Guy-ana. He had gone there to conduct pastoral seminars. He showed me a photograph of a girl which he had taken while visiting another church in another county (Berbice) of Guyana. “Do you like her?” he asked. I did not have the faintest idea that he was thinking about me and marriage. “Yes,” I coldly answered. In the church, the District Superintendent did not want unmar-ried young men in the Ministry. The well-meaning missionaries, several of them, were planning to find a wife for me. They just showed up at my future-mother-in law’s house. All seven of them