(Author's Note: For a more extensive autobiography of Charlie "bulldog" Wireman, please go here and listen to the first story of "3 from LightByDesign.net". It is entitled "Kentucky Mountain Outlaw". You will be blessed.)

I want you to Meet Charlie "Bulldog" Wireman. Picture, if you will, an outlaw in Kentucky, near the turn of the century. He would kill someone at the tip of a hat. What was the power of prayer on him?

Charlie Wireman was a wild man who saw God's light. This true story I found in old, out of print holiness literature, published in the early part of the 20th century. I love the stark contrast between the evil in a man's heart and the good that came into it, after the vigilant prayers of some church-going townsfolk. Please enjoy the escapades and testimony of Charlie "Bulldog" Wireman, the "baddest" man in Kentucky.

Charlie was born in 1890 in a two room mountain hut, in a remote section of eastern Kentucky, to very poor parents. There were a total of nine children born to them. From the beginning of his life, he had to have a heart of the jungle. It was kill or be killed. He says:

I carried, from the time I was in my early teens, a single action .45 caliber revolver in my shoulder holster on my left shoulder, which is lower today than my right, probably because of growing up with that heavy pistol weighing down on that shoulder. I also carried a double action, improved Smith & Wesson in my pocket.

We mountain boys had no use for men of high caliber. They didn't appeal to us. Our ideal was the man who had the most notches on his pistol handle, denoting the number of men he had made to bite the dust. Our warped minds looked upon them as heroes and we wanted to be like them--ambitious to be bad.

The man of faith said, "There is nothing too hard for our God. Our God is able. Suppose that you and I enter into a covenant of prayer, and call others into the covenant in the day service tomorrow, and fast and pray, until God either saves that wicked young man or moves him out of the way of a revival in this town."

Within the next couple of days, as he was going about his usual dirty business, a most miserable feeling seemed to settle over Charlie and he had no idea what it was. He knew nothing about the covenant of prayer and that all over that town the saints of God with burdened hearts and weeping eyes, were calling on God on behalf of Charlie's hellward-bent soul. He knew nothing of how the Holy Spirit convicts one of their sins. He just knew he wasn't feeling well, so he left his work early and traveled home. On the way, he was resting while leaning on a lamp post, when in a nearby home, he heard a mother praying with her little children. They were the usual prayers for the family, and he wanted to move on, but strangely, he was unable to move. Then, suddenly, her voice rising in pitch, she cried out, "Oh, God, we now remember our covenant to pray for poor, sinful, wicked, Charlie."

Was that him she was praying about? He was dumbfounded, but he believed it was. He walked on home where his family was sitting down at the supper table but he couldn't eat. In his bedroom, he laid down but tossed and turned and then he felt he'd smother to death if he didn't get out for some fresh air. Outside, he walked the porch, back and forth, like a caged lion. All heaven seemed marshaled to get him to the revival that had begun, all hell was marshaled to hinder that move. He stepped out onto the street, angry at religion, angry at the preacher.

Just a few days earlier, some of his friends had told him what was going on down at the revival. From his vantage point in his office, he could see out but others could not see him, inside. His friends pointed out who the evangelist was and he told them he was not going to kill the preacher, but he was going to beat him and run him out of town.

Well, standing outside to get that fresh air, here came this preacher, walking down the other side of the street. He crossed over to his side, and never having met Bulldog Charlie in person, he grabs his hand and says, "I am holding a revival in the Methodist Church. I don't believe I have noticed you in the revival. Won't you come and be with us?" Suddenly admiration rose up in him, for the preacher. Why would he walk across the street and invite someone like himself to this revival? He found himself walking to the house of God.

Sister Connoy, who had initiated the prayer covenant, gave a war hoop of victory as Charlie came in. A few minutes later, the preacher gave a very convicting message that reached the depths of Charlie's heart. Every sin Charlie had ever committed was exposed that night by the preacher and when that inspired talk was finished, Charlie nearly ran up front to what is called the mourner's bench, and got on his knees to pray. The town's prayers had worked and God had brought the man with the most notches on his gun to the point of salvation, but as Charlie's ears adjusted to hearing the voice of the Holy Spirit instead of just his own depraved voice, Charlie understood there was more work to do, before his salvation would be assured.

One can't just be instantly free from the past. If the heart is truly changed, then the Lord moves people to ask forgiveness of everyone they've wronged. In Charlie's case, the town was full of people he had badly mistreated as well as mothers and fathers of people he had killed, from which he desired their forgiveness.

In some cases, forgiveness was hard to obtain, for resentment was high against him, but he found he had to try. When he had completed that task, and in the days to come, the Lord then asked him to turn himself in to the sheriff. The list was very large of crimes he had committed, but he told the sheriff he had been convicted in his heart by the Lord and he wanted to get right with the law. The sheriff, who had been under Charlie's thumb and greatly feared him, went from trembling at seeing Charlie walking into his office, to tears of joy, as he recognized that Charlie had truly had a change of heart.

The sheriff and Charlie walked over to see a new judge who was temporarily in town as the regular judge was occupied with other duties in another part of the state. Charlie asked the judge if there was any way he could continue going to the revival, then turn himself in. The judge asked him if he could obtain bail. Charlie said no one in town would provide that. The weeping sheriff believed Charlie would turn himself in after the revival and the judge agreed to let him go on his own recognizance, despite the fact that he had so many heinous crimes to his name.

Charlie kept going to the revival and continued making as much restitution as he could with the townsfolk. The revival continued for many days and people came from all around to see for themselves that the Lord had gotten a hold of the worst man alive in that area, at that time. Here is a quote from Charlie, who was the first to arrive every morning and the last to leave every evening, as this revival service continued:

One night, one never to be forgotten night, thank God when I made an end of resistance, and was lying flat on my back as they were singing, "I'd rather walk with Jesus alone," my faith took hold. Pardon was written upon my wicked heart. The glorious salvation of the Lord Jesus Christ broke into my sin-blighted soul, dispelling the darkness with such splendor and grandeur that it made the chandeliers in that old Methodist church hide their faces in shame, thank God. I was a new creature in Christ Jesus the Lord.

On the day after the revival meeting closed, I went to see the judge, and turn myself in, as I had said I would. When I entered his office he had some papers in his hand which looked like some kind of legal documents, and he asked me how I came out in the meeting. He had heard all about it, but he wanted me to tell him--and I was glad to do that. I told him how God had forgiven all of my sins, cast them into the sea of His forgetfulness to be remembered against me no more, and that, forever.

He said, "Are you ready to go to the penitentiary?" I said, "I am ready to go anywhere. If I do go to the penitentiary and spend my life there, I will go to heaven from the penitentiary, for my mind is made up to go to heaven at any cost." He said, "Do you know what I have in my hand? I have a certificate signed by the Commonwealth attorney asking me to do exactly what you say God has done. Give you a clean slate!"

And then came the shock of my life.

A few days after my conversion God stooped down and laid His hand upon me, as it were, and called me to the most exalted position that any man can occupy in this world--that of preaching His glorious Gospel.

But I grieved Him by fighting the call. I was the most unlikely man in all the world to become a preacher; didn't have the first qualification for a preacher. But God's call to preach was just as definite, and just as epochal, and unmistakable, as my conversion. I am not a preacher by choice. If I had my way I would have been anything but a preacher. But God called me "Woe unto me, if I preach not the Gospel!" And I felt that in my heart.

On Sunday morning while the pastor was preaching from the text, "Thyself hath decided it," I had been arguing the question with God. I had told Him if He would take the call from me and put it on someone who had some preaching ability, that I would work, if need be, with my hands and support that one while they preached the Gospel, but God is not arbitrary but He held me to the call.

And that Sunday morning while the preacher was preaching, I stuck up the white flag of unconditional surrender and said, "Live or die, sink or swim, survive or perish, if I can do nothing more than go out and face a gainsaying world and cry, 'Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world,' I will do it." And God flooded my soul with ecstasy and joy.

We mountain boys cared nothing for Washington or Lincoln, or men of like character; we admired bad men, and the one who had the most notches in his pistol handle…was our hero and the man, in our ignorance, we longed to be like. I had three cousins killed in cold blood and that feud spirit entered my heart when a small boy, until I fairly hated any one who bore the name of those murderers. The "bottle" was passed to old and young alike, and I was a confirmed drunkard at an early age. Many times, I suffered hell on earth with delirium tremens…while yet in my teens.

People everywhere in that section made moon-shine whiskey and of course I indulged both in the illicit manufacture and sale of the "mountain dew." The high sheriff of the county was compelled to resort to cutthroats for deputies. I eventually got so low as to become a deputy sheriff. This position was so dangerous that respectful men who valued their lives would not serve. I finally became so steeped in drunkenness, I was fired from even that job. I then turned outlaw, and ran a loose-joint gambling den in open violation of the law. I had engaged in many bloody gun battles seeing some of my fellow men shot down around me. By this time I only weighed 118 pounds and it looked as if my time was short even if I escaped the wrath of my enemies.

About this time, after prayer was offered up for me in almost the entire town, traveling evangelist Tom "Nighthawk" Roberts began a revival in the old Methodist Church. The townsfolk and Tom decided if they could only get the "bad man" of the town converted, it would mean the salvation of many others, so they entered into a covenant of prayer for the "bad man" and PRAYER CHANGED THINGS. They prayed me under a nightmare of conviction for sin, prayed me into the church, then to the mourner's bench, and in seven days, helped me to pray through to victory.

The devil said to me, when I was called to preach, there was no place in the ministry, or demand for poor unlettered, ignorant mountaineers; nevertheless, for years no grass has grown under my feet. I have preached in every state and in Canada and old Mexico. I have engaged in more than 500 revivals and camp meetings and have seen more than 25,000 pray through at the mourner's bench. Amen!

The atheist might think I am being bull-headed in my insistence that prayer works. I guess you'll have to call me "Bull-headed Zarley." I am just stubborn enough to believe that if many in the world pray for atheists, like Richard Dawkins, even they can have their hearts changed by Jesus Christ. I look forward to working with Dawkins as a fellow spreader of the Gospel.

With such evil beginnings, according to logic, there should be no way Charlie Wireman would become a successful preacher. He had no inclinations toward religion. But when the townspeople took on his evil ways with prayer, what happened? He began to feel uncomfortable, he couldn't rest. God got him to that revival. From there came repentance for all he had done—and restitution, where possible. And from that came full forgiveness from God (which, in his case, resulted in all his charges being dropped). It wasn't his genes, it wasn't his DNA, it wasn't fate, and it wasn't even natural selection—but it was God making a supernatural selection of Bulldog Charlie. It was an almighty and powerful God who chose Charlie Wireman to do His work for the Kingdom. Charlie Wireman is an evolutionary enigma, a God-ordained preacher—who should never have gone in the direction he did—unless there is a God who answers prayer. No one pounded the truth into Charlie (Charlie wouldn't have stood for that kind of harassment). No one visited his house wearing suit and tie and riding bicycles, trying to make him understand the Gospel. He would have slammed the door in their faces. No one accosted him in the town, slipping some religious pamphlet to him (he would have thrown it away). They did only one thing—they prayed with all their hearts, for God to take care of Charlie and remove the evil from this town.

It was truly a mighty work of the Lord that removed the evil from the town, through the healing of the heart of Charlie Wireman. God did intervene and that intervention was for the good of the town, and ultimately, for the good of Charlie Wireman as well. Is there anything in your life that you feel is too difficult for God to handle? The Word says to knock and keep on knocking and the door will be opened. Give it to God. Cry out with all your heart. Don't give up.

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