Until the End

by Nov 28, 2023Devotional

This month, my mind has gone to my parents and the light that they are to me in 2023.

My father had prayed through that he was supposed to go into World War II.  Then while on a suicide mission, trying to rescue what he thought were stranded Americans, he was shot.  He carried a bullet in his neck for the rest of his life. 

He had not been well before the war, and his nerves and body were definitely not well when he came out.

When he came home, he felt like he needed to go to school to prepare for the ministry.  He applied to God’s Bible School, but the government denied it.  One of the godly saints asked if he wanted to go up to Frankfort, Indiana, to camp meeting. 

God planted the seed in his heart to attend Frankfort Pilgrim College.  He applied, and the government accepted it.  He was able to get the G.I bill to pay for his schooling.

There he met my mother and began to minister in the west end of Frankfort.  There was a little community of 200 people, many living in poverty, who were separated from the rest of the town.  It was known as Hogsville.

My parents married and lived among their people in the west end of town, really in the same poverty. They lived without an inside bathroom..in a converted chicken coop and other houses. I’ve seen pictures of one place they lived, the table top house, named that way because it was made out of table tops.  It would get cold because the door did not hit the floor, and water would freeze at night.  I’ve heard the stories about the rats that would come into the house.   One night after they had eaten popcorn, a rat came in and bit my brother Henry’s fingers while they slept.

My dad was sickly, but that did not stop him from calling on the people.  He would visit in the homes, witnessing.  After he would talk to them about the Lord, he would ask if he could lie down. Then when he had gotten enough strength, he would go to the next house to pray and talk about God.

Everyone could see how sick he was. He had a bleeding ulcer and had survived on goat’s milk. They were not able to bring his severely-low blood pressure up. Finally, my grandpa told someone, “Lewis is not going to make it!  He is going to die!”

That year at Frankfort camp, Daddy went down the altar at the healing service.  An older man knelt near him and prayed until he touched God.  Daddy was so sure that God had taken his case!  He went back to his seat, and my mom was perplexed, “Aren’t you going to let them pray for you?” Daddy told her that God had already taken his case.

It was time for the Sunday noon meal.  They headed toward the dining hall, and the power of God hit Daddy.  He shouted.  He ran.  He held on to trees and praised God.

Never again did he have that sickness!

Because of the finances, my parents had to pray in the things they needed…groceries and necessities of life.  My mom said that once she asked God why she had to pray to get the things that she needed. God told her that He was supplying her spiritual need of increasing her faith by having her pray things in that she needed materially.

By the time I hit the scene in 1971, things were better financially, but the stories made a deep impression on me. It was like the children of Israel who never saw the parting of the Red Sea, but they heard about it from their parents. So it was part of who they were. The stories my parents told…were part of me!

The years passed, and my mom started seeing the world change. She needed to know that God’s power was continuing on.  He gave her the Scripture “His truth endureth to all generations.” That was the answer…to the end of the world.  To the final amen.  To ALL generations!

Now my parents are gone, and I have a baton that I’m passing to my children. My mother was born 94 years ago. She would be shocked at this world that my children are inheriting.  The bombardment of voices makes my boat feel small and frail.

But the promise was to all generations!

I understand why my parents had to go through some of the hard times.  I needed to hear how the Red Sea had parted and know that it was MY Red Sea story too! I need to know this when the foundations seem totally torn apart.  I need to know there’s power in the blood.  I need to know today. So I claim these promises!

His hand is not shortened. His truth is marching on!

“And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit;” Acts 2:17-18a


  1. Doreen

    Dear Friend

    Your devotional was beautiful.

    • Elizabeth Hamilton

      Thank you, friend! ❤️

  2. Dan Downing

    This issue of your devotionals was/is SO encouraging!! I remember your folks well, and always sensed that your Daddy was SO in touch w/ God! Thank you for sharing these faith-strengthening stories! God’s call is to EVERY generation. I’m sure mine has just a few years (at most) left, but I plan to use those years for God to the best of my strength & ability…until the end!

    • Elizabeth Hamilton

      Thank you for the kind words about my dad. I want to do my best too!

  3. Deena

    This is such a wonderful reminder. Really appreciate this devotional!!

    • Elizabeth Hamilton

      Thank you!

  4. Elizabeth Bell

    Thank you for sharing this beautiful story of your parents.
    My husband Jerry loved to be in early morning prayer meetings with your father. He was one of his heroes.
    Thank you for picking up the torch & standing firm for Jesus.

    • Elizabeth Hamilton

      Thank you so much for your loving words!