58 GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT
my tongue and loosen it. It felt like a little numbness, and I
began to proclaim God's Word with absolute fluency.
Here's what was amazing. God didn't heal me when I
was sitting in the audience. He didn't heal me when I was
walking up to the platform. He didn't heal me when I stood
behind the pulpit. God performed the miracle when I
opened my mouth.
When my tongue loosened, I said, "That's it!" The
stuttering was gone. All of it. And it has never returned.
Now my parents didn't know I was healed because we
had so little communication around the house. And, of
course, there had always been times when I could speak
without a noticeable problem for a short time— before
something set the stuttering off again.
But I knew I was healed. And my ministry began to
mushroom. It seemed as if every day I was invited to a
church or fellowship group to minister. I felt in the perfect
center of God's Will.
"I'm Going to Die"
For the next five months I was a preacher, but my
mother and father had no inkling. Keeping it quiet for so
long was a miracle in itself. My brothers knew, but they
didn't dare tell Dad because they knew it would be the end
of Benny.
In the Toronto Star in April 1975, a newspaper ad with
my picture in it appeared. I was preaching at a little
pentecostal church on the west side of town, and the pastor
wanted to attract some visitors.
It worked. Costandi and Clemence saw the ad.
I was sitting on the platform that Sunday night. During