Good Morning, Holy Spirit

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One day in April I thought, "There must be a reason for it." I asked, "Lord, why are you doing all of this for me?" I knew that God doesn't give people spiritual picnics forever. him on a charter bus trip to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I had met Jim, a Free Methodist minister, at the church I attended. The group was going to a meeting of a healing evangelist, Kathryn Kuhlman.

Only rarely did I really talk to the Lord. When I had some specific request, I mentioned it. Otherwise my prayer life was all very organized. Very routine. Hurriedly the angel led me through an open doorway, and the moment I walked into the light, the celestial being took me by the hand and dropped me on Don Mills Road—right at the corner of Georges Vanier School. He left me just inches from the wall of the school, right beside a window. I looked at the stained glass windows. But they were all closed. And they were much too high to allow such a draft.Easterners consider it unthinkable to disobey parents. But now I was nearly twenty-one. And I vividly recall the night I summoned the boldness to tell my father, "I'll obey you on anything you want, but on the matter of going to church I will not obey you. I must obey the Lord!" Clemence wanted someone somehow to swoop down and save her from another year of humiliation and disgrace. She was a devout Greek Orthodox woman, but she didn't know much about the Lord. In that humble hospital room, however, she tried to make a bargain with Him. our home. Mom and Dad didn't even have one. I had no idea where it came from, but it had been mine as long as I could remember.

Nothing like that had ever happened before. And it didn't stop. I was too embarrassed to tell Jim, but I could feel my very bones rattling. I felt it in my knees. In my mouth. "What's happening to me?" I wondered. Is this the power of God? I just didn't understand. I really believe it was at that moment that God began moving in my life. I can remember the vision as if it happened yesterday. I saw Jesus walk into my bedroom. He was wearing a robe that was whiter than white and a deep red mantle was draped over the robe.

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Well, I just couldn't believe it. Who'd ever heard of standing in the freezing cold before sunrise to go to church? But he said that was what we were supposed to do. All of a sudden the entire group lifted their hands and began to pray in some funny foreign language. I didn't even close my eyes. I could hardly blink. Here were students seventeen, eighteen, nineteen years old—kids I had known in class—praising God with unintelligible sounds. I began to comprehend everything Jesus said about the Holy Spirit. He was my comforter, my teacher, my guide.

Then one evening an attache from the Canadian embassy came to our home and showed us a short movie on life in Canada. Toronto seemed like such a thriving city. Father had two brothers who lived there, but we doubted that they were financially qualified to be our official sponsor.As I began to preach, the power of God's presence began to flow through me, but I couldn't bring myself to look in the direction of my parents—not even for a fleeting glance. All I knew was that my concern about stuttering was needless. When God healed me, the healing was permanent. in Jaffa who could relate to such an international community. We were proud of his circle of friends, which included many national leaders. He was asked to be an ambassador for Israel in foreign nations, but chose to stay in Jaffa. What was I doing? Having fellowship. Fellowship with the Spirit. And when I wasn't at work or in my room, I tried to get to church. But I didn't tell anyone what was happening to me.

opened my eyes to look around because suddenly I felt a draft. And I didn't know where it was coming from. It was gentle and slow, like a breeze. Before I had finished, Stanley stopped me and said, "Benny, tonight you must come to our church and share this." They had a fellowship called Shilo—about a hundred people at the Trinity Assembly of God in Oshawa.

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And when she said it, you could have dropped a pin and heard it. I was afraid to breathe. I didn't move a muscle. I was holding on to the pew in front of me wondering what would happen next. something literally grabbed me on the inside. It really got to me. I cried and said, "I've got to have this." One cold winter night in Toronto, the Holy Spirit entered Benny Hinn's life in such a dramatic way that he was changed forever. The same thing can happen to you. Join the millions of others who have read Good Morning Holy Spirit and discover if you are ready to meet the Holy Spirit intimately and personally, willing to listen to His voice, and prepared to know Him as a person. Then I heard a voice that I knew must be the Lord. It was ever so gentle, but it was unmistakable. He said to me, "My mercy is abundant on you."