Smith Wigglesworth Books In Hindi -

He read with suspicion. The language was blunt, almost rude. Wigglesworth wrote: “If you are sick, don’t pray about it. Command it to go. Your unbelief is the only thing stronger than your sickness.”

A small concrete room in a bustling Delhi slum, near a railway line.

But the next night, he read again. A different book: . He read the famous story of how Wigglesworth, a plumber by trade, had once prayed for a dead woman for hours until she breathed again. But then he read a footnote the Hindi translator had added: “Before he raised the dead, Wigglesworth buried his own wife. He did not command her to rise. He wept. And then he chose to believe anyway.” smith wigglesworth books in hindi

Rajiv slammed the book shut. Arrogant, he thought. The man never lost a child.

“Rajiv,” she said, using his name without permission. “I need you to fix the lock on my suitcase.” He read with suspicion

Rajiv was a man who collected broken things. Broken radios, broken chairs, and most painfully, a broken faith. He had been a pastor once, in a tiny village in Uttar Pradesh. But after a scandal—not of money or women, but of failure —he had run away. A child he had prayed for had died. The silence of God had been so loud that Rajiv packed his Bible and fled to Delhi, becoming a repairman of physical things because he could no longer repair spiritual ones.

Inside were not clothes. Inside were books. Old, reprinted, cheap-paperback books. All in Hindi. And all by the same author: Smith Wigglesworth . Command it to go

She left. That night, unable to sleep as the rain hammered the tin roof, Rajiv picked up the top book. It was titled in Devanagari script: — a Hindi translation of Wigglesworth’s sermons.

“Where can I find more of these?” he asked. “For others? In Hindi?”

(Every locked lock can be opened. Ask me how.)

Rajiv frowned. “These are not for me, Mary-ji. I don’t read revivalist nonsense anymore.”