In 1968, I met a Christian family east of the mountains and enjoyed several hours of mutually edifying fellowship with 'em one weekend, in their church and in their home. (I'll call 'em by the name Levy here, though that wasn't their name.)
In 1869, my family and I moved to another state. We moved back to Montana � west of the mountains � in 1970.
In 1971, Christian friends in this area told me that my friends the Levys had moved west of the mountains. But nobody knew where.
"How did you know that they're friends of mine?"
"I've heard that they speak of you often."
Months later, someone said that he thought that the Levys had moved to a certain little Montana town � let's call it "Center" � but wasn't sure and knew nothing definite.
Some time later, driving along the highway, I noticed a road sign with an arrow indicating a road to "Center." On what I took to be a sudden impulse, I took that road to "Center." At the post office, I asked whether a Levy family lived in or near "Center."
"Yes. Drive west on that street out there and turn left at the substation. The Levys have the next ranch."
I followed the lady's directions and parked in the yard of the first ranch. I knocked on the door. Through the glass of the outside door and the door from the mud room into the kitchen, I could see about eight people sitting around the big kitchen table. Mrs Levy looked up, saw me outside the door, and with eyes wide exclaimed "Why, here he is now!"
After the greetings and pleasantries, she explained:
The visitors were representatives from a growing number of Christians who'd been under the influence of a big-name, self-anointed minister whom they'd been appalled to find was growing more and more undeniably false. From reading their own Bibles, they'd begun to see more and more contradictions between the scriptures and the doctrines that � up to then � they'd taken-in as if it were all soundly Biblical. "It is written" was beginning to overwash "I think" and "yea, believe ye thus-and-so."
They'd gone for help to every other minister in the valley, all of whom had refused "to get involved" (except to invite 'em to join their congregations). These worried Christians knew that the Levys had been active in a number of Christian movements east of the mountains and were widely acquainted with a number of Christian leaders.
"We need a teacher whom we know that we can depend on," they said. "Can you think of anyone whom we could ask to come teach us?"
Mrs Levy had just said that the best candidate whom she could think-of would be "Brother Ken Howell."
"But," she said, "he moved out of Montana a couple of years ago. I've heard that he moved back, but I don't know for sure, and I don't know where he is."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Why, here he is now!"
Thus began a great adventure in mutual edification. Bible questions from people in the group led me into deep study of scriptures and topics that I might not ever have thought to explore otherwise. Exegesis of those scriptures and topics resolved questions and confusions for us all. All of us were already born again, baptized, etc, but there was much more (when our fellowship began) that we didn't know or understand than there was as we progressed in our knowledge and understanding.
Fruit grew there � healings, deliverance from demons, and many other obvious works and gifts of the Holy Spirit.
Everything that we learned emphasized the glory of God. Nothing that we learned exalted human ego but, to the contrary, increased our wonder and humility.
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