I read one day where the letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth Life. So, I—I tried to push away. I recognized it, set down and tried to consider it just in the best way that I could, and I said, “Lord, if I’ve been wrong, forgive me.” And it came into the room and walked to me that time, a man, somewhat six foot tall, but of an olive-looking complexion, dark hair to his shoulders, weighing about two hundred pounds in human weight, and told me that I was brought to this world to pray for sick people, if I’d get them to believe and be sincere when I prayed, that nothing would stand before the prayer.

My Commission, 1951-05-05, Los Angeles, CA, §28