For over twenty years, George Watmough did what the Holy Spirit told Philip to do: “Go near, and join thyself to this chariot” (Acts 8:29). As he traveled from place to place preaching the Word of God, he used hitchhiking as his means of transportation. The Lord preserved him as he made more than thirty trips across the continent. He was never in an accident and never late for a meeting. Written in his unlettered and yet forceful style, this is his story.
I was raised in a home where I can never recall seeing a Bible or hearing a word of prayer. My father was a hard drinker and my only brother committed suicide. I got off to a bad start and wasted some of the best years of my life boxing. Then I became interested in show business. I can’t tell you the whole story but I shipped two suitcases from New York to Hollywood and I’ve never seen them to this day. They got lost and I got saved.
When the Lord found me, there were many things I didn’t know; but one thing I was sure of: I was a new creation in Christ! My whole life had been transformed by His wonderful grace and I had a great desire to tell others about Him. So I started hitchhiking, never dreaming I would be at it all these years. When I reached Victorville, California, some people asked me to preach for them. I told them I had only been converted a short time but I would do the best I could. So opening my Bible to the thirteenth chapter of Genesis where Lot was looking for grass and Abram was looking for grace, I read these words: “And the Lord said unto Abram, after Lot was separated from Him . . .” It seemed to me God couldn’t talk to Abram until there had been a separation. And God can’t talk to you and me until there has been a separation. I have read everything that Paul has written, but I have never read where Paul says, “I know how to compromise and I was a good mixer.” But he does say, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” Yes, God talks to separated men and women.
A few months later I was in Wyoming, sheltering from a storm on the porch of a store. Feeling a little down in the dumps, I recalled what one of God’s servants once said: “When you get down in the cellar of despondency, look around for the King’s wine.” Just then a young man rolled up in his car and, since there was no hotel for miles, I asked him if I might sleep in his car for the night. He said he was working on a road job ten miles down the road and, if I would come down to the camp, I could sleep in his car. He happened to be a Mormon and we talked until after midnight. Some time that morning I believe I led him to our Lord. Then he got me a blanket and went over to the mess hall and arranged for me a good breakfast in the morning. It is wonderful to live from hand to mouth when it’s God’s hand and my mouth. The next morning, the very first car to come along gave me a ride to Cody, the place I tried to get to the day before. Surely the steps and the stops of a good man are ordered by the Lord.
Some time ago, I was picked up by a man that had charge of the publication work for the Seventh Day Adventist Church on the West Coast. After finding out where he stood, I said to him, “My friend, do you really know why God gave the Law?” He looked at me a little puzzled, so I said to him, “If you don’t mind, as we are riding along this morning, I would like to show you from the New Testament just why God gave the Law. But first I want the third chapter of Romans to tell you.
“That every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God.” If you try to get to heaven by keeping the Law, God says your mouth will be shut. But if you will plead guilty, God will deal with you in mercy. For the Scriptures say, “By the Law came the knowledge of sin.” If there were no other verse in all the Bible but this verse, I could never be a Seventh Day Adventist. If righteousness came by the Law, then Christ died in vain. The Law makes demands; grace bestows favor. The Law condemns the best; grace justifies the worst. The Law is something to be kept; grace is something that keeps. Under the Law, the sheep died for the shepherd; under grace, the Shepherd died for the sheep. What a tremendous difference!
Free from the Law! Oh, happy condition,
Jesus has bled and there is remission;
Cursed by the Law and bruised by the fall,
Christ hath redeemed me once, and for all.
When we parted, he made me promise to send him the sermon I preached to him on grace, which I did.
Down through the years, I have ridden with men in all walks of life. On just one day, I was picked up by a contractor, a Jewish whiskey salesman, a college professor, a high school principal, a manufacturer and an army captain on his way to his mother’s funeral. On another day I was picked up by a salesman, two Jehovah Witnesses, a manufacturer, A Seventh Day Adventist, a truck driver, a Greek Orthodox Catholic and a farmer. The wonderful truth is that the Gospel was suited to every one of them.
Heading up the west coast to Canada, I was sitting alongside a Catholic priest. He was a very friendly young man. He put out his hand to introduce himself by saying, “My name is Father George Callahan.” “Well,” I said, “I’m happy to know you. My name is Father George Watmough. I have a wife and two kids.” He smiled, then for quite some time he listened to me as I told him the story of salvation by grace — plus nothing. Before we parted, he took everything I gave him to read and thanked me. Then taking me by the hand, he said, “Sir, I’d like an interest in your prayers.” And I have prayed much for him ever since.
Then one day in New Mexico, I was picked up by a man that had lots of religion without salvation. There are many hands that hold cocktails on Saturday night that hold hymnbooks on Sunday morning. “Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof” (2 Tim. 3:5). After I had witnessed to him for a few minutes, he said, “Now, let me tell you the four steps to salvation.” “Four steps!” I exclaimed, “Why, I didn’t know a dead man could walk. How is he going to make the first? For the Bible says, “Thou shalt make no steps to My altar.” Then he said, “Do you mean to tell me that I don’t have to do my part?” “Oh, indeed, you do,” I replied, “your part is the sinning and God’s part is to do all the saving. He is a Saviour, not a helper.”
I was waiting for a ride near San Jose one day when a car stopped in front of me. A lady sitting at the wheel said, “May I give you a ride?” To put her at ease, I let her know I was a Christian and loved the Lord. Then she said, “Isn’t it strange that I should pick you up, having passed so many along the road. Something seemed to say, “Pick that man up.” Then she told me this story: “Before I left home this morning, a preacher came on the radio. For some reason I couldn’t turn him off as I did all the others. When he finished, I wrote something in this book.” She took a little red book out of her handbag and this is what she had written, “What I need is God. How can I find Him?” I feel sure the Lord had me there that day to tell that lady the Gospel.
In Baltimore, I was waiting for a ride to Washington, D.C. Four men were standing there also and they all got rides first. So I had a little word of prayer and then walked back to the light. A car stopped and waited for the light to change. I walked over to his window and said, “If you’re going into Washington, may I go along? I have the best of credentials.” He replied, “Sure, get in.” In all my years of hitchhiking, I’ve never met a man in more trouble. He was running away from his wife and family that very morning. So I told him I wanted him to read just three verses from My New Testament that were a great blessing to me years ago and might be a help to him. Without my saying a word, he pulled over to the side of the road and said, “Let me see them.” After quite some time, I had the joy of pointing him to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.
When I was getting out of his car in Washington, he reached into a bag in the back seat and took out a quart bottle of whiskey. Handing it to me, he said, “Take this along. I won’t need it any more.” Well, I didn’t need it either, but I took it and put it in my coat pocket. It felt like I was carrying a piano. I could hardly wait till I poured it down the drain. Then I said, “Let me have the little booklet I gave you (as everyone I ride with gets something good to read). I wrote the name of a Christian businessman that I knew back in his hometown. “Now you go back home and see this man right away. He is the kind of a man that will help you farther.” After I had been home in Los Angeles for three weeks, I received a letter from this businessman. His letter said this: “Mr. Cone came to see me last week and he told me all that had happened. He brought his brother along and I had the joy of leading him to the Lord. Now he is bringing another brother and I am dealing with him.”
The Bible says, “Ye are My witnesses,” not lawyers, and a witness only has to tell what he knows. If you and I would only tell what we know of our wonderful Lord and His so great salvation we would have lots to talk about. We are admonished to buy up every opportunity as a merchantman would buy up a scarce commodity. He that is wise winneth souls.
Leaving Denver one day, I was picked up by a man. I hardly was seated beside him when he said, “Let me tell you a story I heard in a tavern last night.”
“Is this a clean story?” I asked. “I’m a Christian, and I never listen to any suggestive stories.”
“Perhaps I had better not tell you this story,” he answered.
Then I told him how the Lord Jesus had transformed my life and had made me a new creation in Christ — that old things had passed away and all things had become new (2 Cor. 5:17). Before I left him that day, he told me that he was a deacon in a church. He was like so many in our churches today, baptized candidates for hell, who know nothing of what it means to rise and walk in newness of life and live worthy of the name “Christian.”
On another occasion I was picked up by a Catholic priest. All he knew was the gospel of works, and all I know is the Gospel of grace, so we had a grand time. In the course of the conversation, he said, “If you want to get to heaven, you will have to do some good works.”
I replied, “Listen to this verse of Scripture found in the fourth chapter of Romans: ‘But to him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.’ I believe in good works, but you must put them in the right place. Good works always work from the cross, never to the cross. We are saved for good works, but never by them. I could never believe that the Lord Jesus made the down-payment on my salvation and then expects me to make all the rest of the payments. That isn’t grace; that’s disgrace.”
“But you have to be obedient to the tradition of the Catholic church,” he said.
“My friend,” I replied, “I have another verse of Scripture for you, found in the fifth chapter of Romans: ‘If by the disobedience of one (meaning Adam) many are made sinners, so by the obedience of two, many are made righteous.’ My friend, it does not read like that. Listen carefully: ‘For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.’ It is not my obedience and His put together. It is His obedience, His death on the cross, that makes me righteous and fit for heaven.”
I shall never forget the man who stopped and picked me up when I was leaving Tucson, Arizona. After thanking him, I began to speak to him about the Gospel. He stopped me by saying, “Mister, I was raised in a preacher’s home, and I haven’t any use for religion.”
I believe I startled him when I said, “Well, sir, I haven’t any time for religion either.” Then I showed him how religion is trying to get to heaven by something man can do but Christianity is what the Lord Jesus Christ did for us when He died as our Substitute and Redeemer. He listened to me as I told him the good news of the grace of God and His finished work on Calvary.
Before I left him that day, we pulled over to the side of the road, and I had the joy of pointing him to our wonderful Saviour. After we both prayed, I got out on one side, and he came around and took me by both hands. “Preacher,” he said, “I’m going to meet you in heaven.” I believe he will.
There have been times when it has not been easy for me to witness for my Lord. In fact, it never is easy. I recall leaving Miami a few years ago when a man picked me up going to West Palm Beach. If the devil himself had been sitting between us, it would not have been harder to talk to him about the Lord. I prayed and asked the Lord to help me reach him with the Gospel. He told me that he was a bartender in a hotel in Miami, but his heart was hungry for something. So I told him about the living water that alone could satisfy his thirst. Right in front of the Post Office in West Palm Beach he trusted Christ as his Saviour and Lord.
The Ripened Harvest
Riding with a friend one day, I noticed something out in the field that was white, so I asked what it was. He replied, “Why, that’s wheat!”
“Wheat!” I exclaimed. “I thought wheat was a golden color.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, “when it’s ripe; but when it’s overripe, it begins to turn white.”
“Oh,” I said, “now I know why our Lord said, ‘The fields are white.’ They are overripe, but the laborers are few.”
May the Lord stir us all to be about our Father’s business while it is still day, for the “night cometh when no man can work.” “He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame” (Prov. 10:5).