Hello everyone. Praise the Lord!
I started out in the ministry as a young Southern Baptist boy preacher. I got the revelation of divine healing on the bed of sickness, and I was healed. In the early days of my ministry, I was pastor of a community church, a country church. Nearly everyone in the whole community came to church.
In those days when a person received the baptism of the Holy Ghost and spoke in other tongues, he was ostracized by the denominational churches. On the other hand, I know many pastors who received the baptism of the Holy Ghost and still continued to pastor their churches. In fact, many of these pastors led their congregations into the baptism in the Holy Ghost. Most of the people in my church also received the baptism of the Holy Ghost.
Do you know what I found out when I began to fellowship with these Pentecostal people? I found out that they knew more about the Holy Ghost than I did, but that I knew more about faith than they did. We make a mistake when we think we can’t learn from others.
So I switched over and started pastoring a Pentecostal church. I didn’t know church problems existed until I got into a Full Gospel church! We didn’t have any problems at all in that denominational community church I had previously pastored. If a fellow was ever tempted to worry, I was tempted to worry about this Full Gospel church I was pastoring!
Here I was, just a twenty-one-year-old boy, and I was the pastor of a church that was twenty-three years old. There were people in that church who had had the baptism of the Holy Ghost and had been talking in tongues more years than I had been alive! You can understand that one as young as I was would feel a sense of inadequacy.
Also, there were problems in that church. I knew something should be said to the people, but I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid that if I said anything I would say the wrong thing. There were conditions that existed in that church that had existed for twenty-three years. I knew something ought to be done about the problems, but I didn’t know what to do. And if I did something, I was afraid I’d do the wrong thing.
I remember I had gotten up early one Sunday morning, and I became burdened about all the problems in the church. I suppose this was the only time in my life that I momentarily succumbed to a burden or care of this nature. I became so taken up with thinking about the problems in that church and wondering what to do, that when I came to myself, I was out walking in the yard (the parsonage was right next to the church). I don’t remember going out there. When I came to myself, I didn’t even know how I got out there.
Out there walking that yard, I realized what I was doing, and I asked myself, What am I doing out here?
Then I thought, Now, Lord, as the pastor, I have some responsibilities in this church. Something ought to be done, but I don’t know what to do. I feel my inadequacy.
Then I said, “Lord, You forgive me. I know better than this. I know better than to worry. I shouldn’t be overly concerned and full of anxiety about anything. I was tempted and momentarily I succumbed to anxiety, but I refuse to worry.”
I could sense the Spirit of God saying to my spirit, “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
I said, “Lord, I know that I have responsibilities as pastor, but I am going to turn all these church problems over to You. I’m not going to worry about them. I can’t fix them anyway.
“Lord, I’m going to preach the Word. I’m going to treat everyone right. I’m going to visit the sick, and I’m going to leave everything else to You. And I’m going to eat every meal and have a good night’s sleep every night because I’m not carrying these burdens — You are.”
When I said that, it was just like something lifted from me. I went to church happy and singing, and the Spirit of God met us and we had a glorious service. Marvelous things happened in that service.
We would have a district fellowship meeting among pastors on the first Monday of each month. I’d go to these meetings, and the preachers would all be talking about their cares, their anxieties, their burdens, and their responsibilities.
These ministers would say to me, “How goes the battle?” They were all in a battle, but I didn’t have any battle. Praise God! I had the victory! Men in battle haven’t won the victory yet. The battle is the Lord’s, but the victory is ours. As I walked along carefree, here these ministers stood with long faces, talking about cares, burdens, and problems in their churches.
One of them said to me some time later, “I’ll tell you, I got mad about it because your faith really convicted us. You would just wave your hand and say, ‘Men, I don’t have a care! I couldn’t be better,’ and just go right on by.” He said those pastors would just stand there and blink their eyes and look at one another. Some of them would shake their heads and say, “The poor boy. He doesn’t have enough sense to worry.” No, I had too much sense to worry — too much Bible sense, that is.
I want to illustrate something to you. Can you see that if I had cast my cares about the church over on the Lord, I didn’t have those cares anymore? I didn’t have them; the Lord did. I didn’t say that no cares existed. I just said, “I don’t have a care,” because I didn’t; the Lord did. Praise God!
If I had three dollars in my billfold, and I gave them to you, I wouldn’t have them anymore. Then if someone came along and said, “Brother Hagin, I’m a little short on money. Could you loan me a dollar? I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” I would have to say to you, “My brother, I would gladly loan you a dollar, but I don’t have a dollar.” I’d be telling the truth, wouldn’t I? How could I loan that person a dollar if I didn’t have a dollar? Those three dollars I did have existed, all right, but I didn’t have them anymore. I had given them away.
In much the same way, if I cast my cares and anxieties on the Lord and someone says, “How goes the battle?” I’d have to say, “I don’t have a care.” Wouldn’t I be telling the truth? Of course I would!
Some of these preachers said later, “I know better. He is lying. I know he does have a care.” But I didn’t say cares didn’t exist; I just said I didn’t have them. If someone asked me for a dollar and I didn’t have any money with me, I wouldn’t tell them that a dollar doesn’t exist. I would only tell them that I don’t have one. Cares do exist, but I’ve given mine away. I don’t have them; the Lord has them!
One particular pastor, who was a neighboring pastor, would say, “He is lying. I know him better than any of the rest of you. And I know about all the problems in his church.” He’d mention about four or five of the problems he knew about, and they were even worse than anything he had in his church. But I’d still just breeze by and say, “Men, I don’t have a care.” Hallelujah! I didn’t.
The Lord had all of my cares.
