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Four Calls
To Soulwinning
by Dr. Jack Hyles
First Electronic Printing March, 1998 by FFEP
“But Peter and John answered and
said unto them, Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you
more than unto God, judge ye. For we cannot but speak the things which we
have seen and heard.” (Acts 4:19-20) “And a vision appeared to Paul in the
night; There stood a man of Macedonia, and prayed him, saying, Come over
into Macedonia, and help us.” (Acts 16:9) “Wherefore seeing we also are
compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every
weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with
patience the race that is set before us,” (Hebrews 12:1) “Then he said, I
pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father’s
house: For I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they
also come into this place of torment.” (Luke 16:27-28)
Thirty-eight years ago last August
30th, a nervous, frightened 33-year-old Texas boy became pastor
of a downtown First Baptist Church of Hammond, Indiana. There is no way for
me to describe how formal it was. No piano was allowed to be played on
Sunday morning. No congregational song leader was allowed to stand up and
wave his hands and no gospel songs were allowed on Sunday morning. You could
sing “Jesus Saves” or “Rescue The Perishing” on Sunday night, but not on
Sunday morning. The former pastor preached in striped pants and a
scissor-tail coat. I do not know of an Episcopalian church any more formal
than First Baptist Church was.
When the pulpit a committee
interviewed me, they asked what I thought about the Sunday morning service.
I said, “I think it stinks.” They said, “What kind of a Sunday morning
service would you have if you became our pastor?” I said, “It would be more
like a Billy Sunday Revival Campaign.” The wealthiest man in Hammond was on
the board of trustees. Several months after I became pastor, he came to me.
“Reverend, I want to talk to you. We like you fine. We think you’re a good
guy. But the truth is, we have a problem with your preaching. Ever since
you’ve been here, the pressure’s been on. Every Sunday morning and Sunday
night, and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday it’s
soulwinning. The pressure’s on all the time. Before you came, we use to have
a revival meeting every 6 months or so and bring a fellow in to have an
evangelistic crusade. But since you’ve been here it’s been that way all the
time. Every Sunday is just like one of those revival meetings.” He said,
“Look at me, I’m a nervous wreck. I shake when I come to church anymore.
You’ve ruined our worship service.” (If I could, I’d ruin every formal
worship service in America next Sunday morning.) “I’m not the only person
who’s nervous—this church is full of nervous people. It’s soulwinning on
Sunday. It’s soulwinning on Monday. It’s soulwinning on Tuesday, Wednesday,
Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Then we start all over again on Sunday. Last
Sunday morning we sang 52 stanzas of ‘Just As I Am’. No wonder we’re
nervous! Something’s got to change!” I said, “Come back on Sunday night and
I’ll give you my answer.” That Sunday night I preached the message I am
preaching to you tonight. I’m telling you exactly what I told my people 38
years ago. I said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, a man came to me last week and
told me that you’re nervous. He said that you were concerned because we’re
having soulwinning on Sunday, and soulwinning on Monday, and soulwinning on
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I’d like to tell you
tonight why it’s that way, and why it’s going to be that way as long as I am
the pastor of this church, whether that is one more week or 50 more years.”
A CALL FROM WITHIN
In the first place, there’s a call
from within. There is something inside of me that says I have to go
soulwinning. “I cannot but speak the things I have seen and heard.” I have
no choice. It’s burning inside of me - a call from within that compels me to
stress soulwinning in everything that we do. This call from within came to
me many years ago. When I was a boy, I was the most timid boy in the church.
When I was 17 years old, I weighed 92 pounds. I now weigh...I finally got
your attention, didn’t I? I now weigh MORE than 92 pounds! (Once my doctor
put me on a diet, and I gained 15 pounds on 1,000 calories a day. I wonder
if it could be that 7,000 calories at night that caused the problem?)
On my 17th birthday I
weighed 92 pounds and I was the most timid fellow in the church. They called
me little Jackie-boy Hyles. I failed public speaking in high school. I could
not make the ball team. I was too little to get a date. I didn’t get to be
in the senior play. I was an introvert. Most of the people in my church had
never heard me say a single word.
One Sunday after the morning
service, one of the deacons, Jesse Cobb, said, “Hey, Jackie-boy. Would you
like to go soulwinning with me this afternoon?” I said, “Uh, J-J-Jesse,
y-y-you know I c-c-couldn’t go soulwinning.” He said, “Jack, you won’t have
to say anything, I just need a partner to give me some moral support. My
partner is on vacation, and I just need someone to go with me. you won’t
have to say a word.”
The first door we knocked on was
the home of a high school football player named Kenneth Florence. Jesse Cobb
was 5’4” tall, and I was shorter yet. He must have weighed 120, and I
weighed 92 pounds. The two of us put together might have weighed as much as
Kenneth did.
When Kenneth came to the door,
Jesse looked up and said, “Kenneth Florence, my name is Jesse Cobb and this
is Jack Hyles.” Jesse said, “Kenneth, Jack here wants to say a few words to
you.” No, Jack didn’t either! Kenneth looked at me and said, “Yes, what is
it, Jack?” I said, “Uh ... Uh... ahem... K-K-Kenneth, would you l-l-like to
come to ch-ch-church tonight?” I do not remember what happened. Jesse told
me later that Kenneth said, “Yes, I would,” and I said, “You would?” Jesse
told me that I said, “I’ll come by and get you tonight at 7 o’clock.” And
Kenneth said, “That will be fine.” That night at 7 o’clock I borrowed Jesse
Cobb’s car and went over to get Kenneth Florence. For the first time in my
life, knew I had to win a soul. I had never won a soul in my life. The sweat
was rolling down my face, and I was trembling. When the invitation began, I
put my arm across Kenneth’s big broad shoulders and said, “K-K-Kenneth,
w-w-would you like to get s-s-saved?” And he said, “Yes, I would.” I said, “
I don’t know how to tell you, but follow me.” We walked down the aisle, and
my pastor met us at the end of the aisle. I said, “B-B-Brother Sizemore,
this is K-K-Kenneth Florence. He wants to get saved.” I had done my part, so
I started back to my seat. Brother Sizemore said, “Hold it, Jack!” I turned
around. He said, “Kenneth, Jack wants to kneel here and show you how to get
saved.” No I didn’t! He was a bigger liar than Jesse Cobb! I knelt at the
front row. I said, “Kenneth, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve never done
this before. But I want to see you saved.” I began to weep. Kenneth said,
“Jack, I know how to be saved. I’ve heard it many times. Every Sunday
afternoon for months, somebody from the church has come by. But you’re the
first one that I ever thought really cared. I know how to do it.” I said,
“Well... do it!”
Kenneth bowed his head and said
something like the old prayer you’ve heard thousands of times, “Oh God, be
merciful to me, a sinner. I now receive Jesus as my Saviour and trust Him to
take me to Heaven when I die.” And while Kenneth Florence was getting saved,
the fireworks of Heaven turned loose in my soul! I mean the sparklers
sparkled, and the firecrackers banged, and the Roman candles soared through
the sky. I jumped up and said, “Brother Sizemore, would it be okay with you
if I just did this all the time from now on?” We started a revival that
night. In the next 7 days, little introverted Jackie-boy Hyles that nobody
took seriously brought 37 people down the aisle professing faith in Jesus
Christ. God set something ablaze in my soul, and that something is still
burning tonight. When you tell me not to build a soulwinning church, you may
as well tell a bird not to fly or a fish not to swim. It’s a call from
within.
“Why can’t you be like other
preachers?’ he wanted to know. “Why can’t you be normal like everyone else?
Why the constant pressure about soulwinning?” Not one time in the Bible does
it say, “The Son of man is come to exegete the scriptures.” Not one time
does it say, “The Son of man is come to lead the deeper life program.” My
Bible says the reason that Jesus left Heaven, and the fellowship with the
Father, and the glory and majesty that were rightfully His for 33 homesick
years - the reason why He lived with no place to lay His head while foxes
had holes and birds had nests - the reason He was rejected by His own city,
hated by His own race, expelled from His own synagogue - the reason that He
went to Calvary was TO SEEK AND TO SAVE THAT WHICH WAS LOST. Why do we work
day and night to build soulwinning churches getting the message of the
Gospel to America? I’ll tell you why. Because of the burning call from
within.
A CALL FROM WITHOUT
“Preacher, we’re nervous. Why does
it have to be soulwinning all the time?” I told my people that night, “Not
only is there a call from within, but there is a call from without.” Come
over and help us.” There’s more to it than personal preference. There’s a
world going to hell! There’s a call from without. I believe that men without
God are lost. I believe that when those lost men die in their sins, they go
to hell. I believe that men who go to hell burn forever and ever. If that be
true, would you tell me what else counts in this world? That call from
without began many years ago. I was called to pastor a little country
church. I could win souls to Christ, but I could not preach them down the
aisle. For more than a year, nobody walked the aisle professing faith is
Christ. I begged and pleaded for God’s power. I didn’t know what the answer
was. But on May 13, 1950 I knelt on the grave of my alcoholic father who
died, and as far as I know, went to hell, and I said, “Dear God, I’m not
getting off my face until something happens to me.”
The next Sunday night I went back
to my little church to preach. A lad came to receive Christ as Saviour. And
then there came another ...and another. I’d never seen anybody walk the
aisle under my preaching before. When they came in we voted them in on the
spot. Up north today, you have to have credit references and blood tests and
everything else to get in a lot of Baptist churches. I’d say, “So and so is
coming, professing his faith in Christ. What is your pleasure?” I had a
deacon that sat over here every Sunday right next to a window, and he would
spit out that window and say, “I make a motion that he be received for
baptism, and after baptism into the full fellowship of the church.” I had a
man over here next to that wall who would say, “I second the move.” The same
two men said it all the time. I said, “All in favor, say aye.” They all did.
Then we ‘extended the right hand of fellowship’. We sang, “Shall We Gather
At The River’ and everyone went around row by row to shake hands with the
new converts. Then I dismissed the service.
That night 3 people got saved, and
boy I was happy. Back in east Texas where I pastored, there weren’t many
cars. Most everybody came by tractor or horseback or wagon, and one Model A
Ford. Everyone was getting on their wagons and tractors to go home, and I
was praising the Lord. I was having a spell. I wish some of you folks would
get religion again. You’ve gotten too used to it. I was having an
old-fashioned spell - clapping my hands and praising God when all of a
sudden --- WHAM! A big old 235 pound fellow hit me from the rear. I turned
around and there was O. C. Pruett, a trainman, with tears in his eyes. He
said, “Reverend, my daughter Barbara is leaning up against the wall back
there crying her eyes out. I think she wants to get saved.” I went back and
said, “Barbara, do you want to get saved?” She said, “Of course, I do!
Nobody wants to go to hell.” I won Barbara to Jesus.
I went out on the front porch of
the church and said, “Hey, come on back in.” Folks left their wagons and
tractors and came back in. I said, “Folks, Barbara Pruett just got saved.
What’s your pleasure?’ The same man said, “I make a motion that she be
received for baptism, and after baptism into the full fellowship to the
church.” Over here he said, ‘I second the move.’ Everybody in favor, say
aye.” “Aye.” We sang “Shall We Gather At The River” and came around row by
row to shake her hand. Glory to God, hallelujah! I dismissed the service
again at about 10 o’clock.
I was having another spell when
the same guy hit me from behind. WHAM! He said, “Reverend, my married
daughter Dorothy is there on the back row. Look at her crying her eyes out.
Would you go talk to her?” I went back and said, “Dorothy, do you want to be
saved?” She said, “My sister’s going to heaven and I’m going to hell. Don’t
you think I want to go to Heaven with her?” I told her how to be saved and
she got saved. I went out on the front porch and said, “Hey, come on back
in.”
When they came in, I said, “Folks,
Dorothy Hall just got saved. What’s your pleasure. This man over here spit
out the window and said, “I make a motion that she be received for baptism
and after baptism be received into the full fellowship of the church.” This
one said, “I second the move.” I said, “All in favor, say aye.” “Aye.” We
opened our song books to “Shall We Gather At The River” and came row by row
again to shake Dorothy’s hand. I dismissed the service for the third time
about 10:30 and went out on the front porch and continued my spell. I know
you won’t believe this, but it really happened. WHAM! It was the same man.
“Reverend, her husband Sam is over there and he just threw down his
cigarette. Do you reckon that means anything?” I went down and said, “Sam, I
understand you just threw down your cigarette?” He said, “Reverend, you
preached about hell tonight. I looked at the fire on that cigarette, and it
dawned on me --- that’s where I’m going when I die.” I said, “Do you want to
get saved?” He said, ‘Sure I want to get saved. My wife’s going to Heaven
and I want to go to Heaven with her.” On the front porch of that little
country church I won Sam to Jesus Christ and said, “Hey, come on back in.
Sam Hall just trusted Christ as his Saviour.” We went through the same
thing again.
Six people got saved that night.
I’d been preaching for over a year and hadn’t seen anybody get saved. We had
over 1,000 walk the aisle for salvation last Sunday at First Baptist Church,
but that didn’t make me any happier than those six people that Sunday night
after God filled me with his Spirit for the first time.
Now I know you won’t believe me—I
wouldn’t believe you if you told this story either. But as I stood in the
same spot having a spell, WHAM! ...you guessed it. The same fellow. He
said, “Reverend...I think I’ll get saved myself before I go home.” I won O.
C. Pruett to Jesus and all the people came back in and voted him into the
church and sang and gave him the right hand of fellowship/ That night Mrs.
Hyles and I went to our little parsonage next door. I wish you could have
seen it. The foundation under the back bedroom was so shaky that two people
couldn’t walk around in there at the same time. There was a rat at the back
porch when we came, that was still there when we left. he thought he was one
of the family. We gave him rat poison and he gained weight on it. We put a
rat trap out there and he thought it was a toy. We went to our little
country parsonage that night at 11:15 and took out a great big Bible. We
were just a couple of kids—I was only 22 or 23 at the time. We put our hands
on that Bible and looked up and said, “Oh, God! This is what we’ve been
wanting. We’re not going to settle for anything less.”
May I take a moment and praise His
name? Since that Sunday night almost 48 years ago, there has not been a
single somebody saved. I’m talking about little country churches and small
town churches and big city churches. We baptized that night, and there’s not
been one single Sunday since then that somebody hasn’t been baptized. All of
our children have grown up and not a single child has ever gone to church
without seeing somebody baptized before Sunday night was over. You say,
“Preacher, why don’t you calm down?” I don’t intend to calm down. I believe
there’s a hell! Now if there’s no hell, let’s all go ‘deeper life’. If
there’s no hell, we can all join John MacArthur. If there’s no hell, let’s
all go exegete. But if there is a hell, let’s go soulwinning. Let’s build
soulwinning churches. The call from without.
A CALL FROM ABOVE
“Pastor, may I talk to you please.
We like you fine,” said the wealthy man, “but we’re nervous. I represent the
nervous people of this church. We like your preaching, if it is a bit loud
and long. We use to have revival meetings now and then. But since you’ve
been here, it’s like that every Sunday morning. Soulwinning, soulwinning,
soulwinning. Why can’t you be like other preachers are?”
That night I told them that there
is a call from above. “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so
great a cloud of witnesses... My mama is watching. Dr. John Rice looks down
from Heaven, and I can tell you that he’s mighty pleased. He gave his life
for soulwinning, to fight formalism and the deeper life movement and the
hyper-Calvinism movement and the Charismatic hodgepodge. He gave his life
for what’s going on right here. Tonight they’re watching. Dr. John, Brother
Lester Roloff, Dr. Bill Rice, Dr. Ford Porter, Dr. Bob Jones, SR...There’s
a call from above.
Years ago I was pastoring in
Garland, Texas. I was 26 or 27 years of age. The church had grown rapidly
and was running about 1,500 in Sunday School. One Sunday morning I was out
front shaking hands with everybody that came in. An old man came through the
door. He was close to 90, I think. His hair was as white as freshly fallen
snow. His shoulders drooped. If he stood up straight, he couldn’t have been
more than 5’4” tall.
I said, “How do you do, sir. My
name is Jack Hyles.” In a squeaky voice he said, “My name is James W.
Moore.” I said, “Brother Moore, we’re glad to have you. Where are you
from?” He said, “I just moved to the area. I’ve been a preacher up in Iowa
for over 50 years. I had a heart attack and the doctor says I won’t live
long. I came to Texas because it’s warmer and I have some family here. I’d
like to join your church. I won’t cause you no trouble. I’ll be for you. I
hear you preach it like it is.”
I bought a platform rocker and put
it by the altar next to the wall for Brother Moore. He’d rock while I
preached and clap his hands. “Amen! Glory to God! Hallelujah! Praise the
Lord!” When I’d preach on dancing or movies or something, he’d shout, “Pull
over and park there for a while.” Apart from my pastor J. C. Sizemore and
my best friend, Dr. John R. Rice, I’ve never loved a preacher like I loved
James W. Moore.
Every Monday morning he’d come by
my office at 9 o’clock. He’d walk in my office and pace the floor. He’d say,
“Brother Jack, I just came to tell you about a stupid mistake I made when I
was a kid preacher...” It was always the same mistake I had made the day
before. I’d hug him and thank him for telling me what he had learned. He’d
teach me the Bible and talk to me every Monday morning from 9 to 10 o’clock.
What a dear, sweet man of God. One Sunday his chair was empty. For several
weeks he was gone. I went to his house and no one answered. I thought maybe
he had moved back to Iowa. Late one Sunday night the phone rang. The lady
said, “This is the nurse at Spiegel Memorial Hospital. I hate to bother you
this late at night, but there’s an old man that was brought in with a heart
attack. He has no identification, and nobody knows who he is. He’s about to
die. But he keeps saying, ‘Call Brother Jack.’ We knew that you like to be
called Brother Jack, so we thought you may know the old man.” I said, “Is he
about 5’4”? Is his hair real white?” She said, “Yes.” I said, “Yes, I know
him.” I went to the hospital. I hadn’t seen many folks die, so I was all
prepared for a solemn ceremony. But Brother Moore wasn’t dying right. He
said, “Come on in, Brother Jack. I’m just about to take a trip I’ve been
looking forward to for a long time. In just a few minutes I’m going to see
Elijah and Moses and Abraham and Paul and John the Baptist and all those
fellows. Anything you want me to tell them for you?” Then he said, “Brother
Jack, I want you to have a Bible conference. I’m going to Heaven now, but I
want to plan it for you.” He chose the speakers. I had the conference after
he had gone to Heaven just like he asked.
Then this is what he did. He took
the oxygen mask off his face and laid it beside him. He reached his hands
out and put them around mine, and said, “Brother Jack,
KEEP...PREACHING...IT...!” I heard the rustling of wings as the angles came
and took his dear old spirit to the presence of the Saviour. I said, “Oh
God, help me to keep preaching it.”
Many times in the past several
years I’ve heard that old man say, “Keep preaching it! Keep preaching it!”
Don’t you hear tonight the call from above? Even the blessed Saviour says,
“Go! Go! Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel...”
A CALL FROM BENEATH
“Reverend, we’re glad you’re our
pastor and we like you fine, but you’re different. Why can’t you be like
everybody else?” I told my people that Sunday night, pretty much what I’ve
told you tonight. There’s a call from within - something on the inside that
says, “I’ve got to do it.” There’s a call from without - a lost world
crying, “Come over and help us.” There’s a call from above - heavenly
witnesses cheering us on. And there’s a call from beneath. “Send Lazarus,
have him tell my 5 brothers not to come here.” They’re more concerned about
soulwinning in hell tonight than you are in your church. “Send Lazarus. I’ve
got 5 brothers and I don’t want them to burn in hell.” There’s a call from
beneath.
On Saturday, December 31, 1949, I
got burdened for my father. My father was an alcoholic - a part-time
bartender. I was pastoring a little country church in east Texas. Up to that
time I had won souls to Christ, but I had never had anyone walk the aisle
under my preaching. On New Year’s Eve I got in the car and drove 150 miles
to Dallas to a tavern right across the street from the seminary. My daddy
worked there part-time and drank there rest of the time for 8 years and not
once did one single professor, staff member, administrator or student ever
walk across the street to witness to the drunkard that tended the bar.
That’s not New Testament Christianity. I didn’t care how much Greek and
Hebrew you memorize.
I walked in the Hunt Saloon on
Saturday morning, New Year’s Eve. My daddy was sitting at the bar, drunk. I
walked up and put my arm around him and said, “Daddy, I’m going to take you
with me to east Texas. I’m going to have a Watch Night service tonight, and
tomorrow is Sunday, New Year’s Day. I want you to go with me.” He cursed at
me and said, “I’m not going to no church tomorrow.” I said, “Yes, you are.”
He said, “No, I’m not.” I laid my Bible down and said, “Daddy, you are
either going to have to come with me or whip me. I’m going to fight you if I
have to in order to get you in that car.” He came with me and I sobered him
up.
That night my daddy went to church
and we had a light kind of a service, a lot of fun. The next morning was the
first time he had ever heard me preach. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The
invitation came and my big one-legged deacon put his arm around my daddy,
and said, “Mr. Hyles, won’t you come to Christ.” He did not walk the aisle.
That afternoon I took a walk with my daddy out across the pasture and said,
“Daddy, I want to see you saved more that I want anything in the whole
world. Daddy, I want you to go to Heaven with Mama and me.” He had left us
many years before when I was a little boy. My daddy said something I never
thought I’d ever hear him say. “Son, I’m going to get saved. I can’t today,
but I’m going back to straighten up some things at home, and I’ll come back
in the spring, and maybe get a little fruit stand or something, and I’m
going to get saved. You’re going to baptize me this spring, and I’ll be a
deacon in your church one of these days, you wait and see if I’m not.”
I took him back the next morning.
The last words he said to me were, “Son, I’m going to let you baptize me in
the spring.” That was good enough for me. But the spring never came. On May
12th I got a call that my daddy had dropped dead with a heat
attack, and I was a powerless preacher.
Several years passed. One Sunday
night, I was still in my office at about 11 o’clock. I heard a knock at my
door and there stood my sister weeping. She said, “Jack, would you tell me
how to be save.” I brought here into my office and led her to Christ. She’s
now a lovely Christian and a wonderful soulwinner. After she got saved, I
said, “Earlyne, why did you come tonight.” a She said, “Jack, tonight you
preached on Luke 16. You told about the rich man in hell who lift up his
eyes and said, “Send Lazarus to tell my five e brothers not to come here.”
She said, “Jack, when you told that story, I thought of a dream I had
shortly after daddy died. I dreamed that a man in a white robe, maybe an
angel, took me in a big building. He showed me walls lined with caskets. In
every casket was a copse. He took me to the first casket and I looked into
the face of that corpse and he had a smile on his face. He took me all
around that room and every casket had a corpse, and every corpse had a smile
on his face, until I got to the last one. The angel said, ‘You can’t see
that one.” She said, “I must see it,” and in her dream she broke away from
that angel.
My sister told me, “Jack, daddy
was in that casket. I went up and looked at him and his face was writhing in
pain. He cried out in agony, “Sister... sister...sister...” All those years
I wondered what daddy was trying to tell me, and tonight when you preached
that sermon, I know what it was daddy was trying to tell me. He was saying,
“Sister... don’t come here.” Don’t you tell me not to build a soulwinning
church. Don’t you tell me not to live for soulwinning. I’ve got a daddy who,
as far as I know, is in hell. There’s a call from beneath. Why don’t you
let God change you tonight? Where is that Curtis Hutson who was in Atlanta
in 1961 whose life was changed? Where is that Wally Beebe who was in a
meeting like this up in Danville, Illinois and his life was transformed as a
kid preacher?
“Pastor, I come representing some
nervous people. We like you fine. But pastor, why are you like you are? Why
is the pressure on all the time? We use toe have revival meeting twice a
year, and see people get saved, sometimes 50 or 60 a year. But ever since
you’ve been here it’s soulwinning Monday, soulwinning Tuesday, soulwinning
Wednesday, soulwinning Thursday, soulwinning Friday, soulwinning Saturday...
Why can’t you be like everybody else/ I’ll tell you why. There’s a call from
within. “K-K-Kenneth, w-w-wouldn’t you like to b-b-be s-s-saved?” There’s a
call from without. “Reverend, I think I’ll just get saved myself before I go
home.” There’s a call from above. “Brother Jack, KEEP...PREACHING...IT!”
There’s a call from beneath. “Sister...sister...sister!” FOUR CALLS TO
SOULWINNING!
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