The words of Gordon Copeland

Not many people know that Gordon Copeland has written an autobiography. Even fewer have actually read the autobiography. One hearty soul has been kind enough to read it, and also send to a few people selected extracts. Kiwiblog is proud to share these with the world, for your enjoyment:

First we have Chapter 12 on fighting Satan in Bangkok:

Jetlag does funny thing and I was wide awake in prayer at about 4am one morning in London when the Lord told me that Satan would attack me in Bangkok on the way home.

I had forgotten all about that a couple of days later when I was lying back in 40 degree Celsius heat alongside the swimming pool at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok enjoying the sunshine. A beautiful girl stripped off topless alongside me and covered herself in suntan lotion before diving in for a swim. She was very much in my thoughts about 20 minutes later when I went back to my hotel room for a much needed nap.

Somewhere between the bedroom and the bathroom, I was physically attacked by an invisible spiritual being. I felt I was being strangled but strangely felt very little fear. The Lord’s warning to me in London suddenly flashed into my mind. I realised that I had been attacked by an unseen spiritual being from the realm of Satan. I am no stranger to demons and have many times, in ministering to people, found it necessary to rebuke spiritual beings in the name of Jesus Christ. The problem was that on this occasion I was incapable of speaking since my voice box appeared to be completely choked off. Inwardly, however, my spirit cried out desperately to God, “Help me!” From within the deep resources of my being a wave of the Holy Spirit rose up through my body and seemed to explode up through my throat and my mouth in a song, from my boyhood days of praise to God. I felt the spiritual being which had me in its grip loose me and leave. I was overcome with joy and went on singing my praise to God for several minutes. I didn’t even know that I still knew that particular hymn of praise!

Then in Chapter 3 we learn the secret to good forecasting for BP:

“In the 21 months I did the job my forecast of the month-by-month balance was never more than 3% away from the actual result. I was conscious week by week during 1974-75 of the Holy Spirit guiding my forecasts through one of the most turbulent periods in the history of the international oil industry.

Also how to gain clients in Chapter 13:

My office was was a desk in the corner of the lounge and, since I was unable to advertise, the best way to secure clients again seemed to be fervent prayer.

The love of goats:

The animal though, which provided us with the most joy was an un-neutered billygoat whom the children named “Gwillious”… Gwillious was, I think, just about the smelliest specimen of a goat ever to walk the planet Earth; was as strong as a bull and would butt anything that moved! In spite of that we were all immensely fond of him… Even now, it is difficult for us to take a drive in the country without Anne getting me to stop and admire the many goats which keep New Zealand’s roadway verges trim.

And finally resisting the attractiveness of females in Chapter 3:

“We all went off to a student party in Brooklyn run by some other ex-Kensington House boys and, against the trend, found ourselves short of girls. I gave those who were present a quick glance or two and decided that this particular evening should be devoted to beer and song. However, two or three beers and a couple of songs later it did seem to me that the attractiveness of the girls present had increased somewhat so I picked out the prettiest in the room and asked her for a dance. That proved to be a failry hilarious affair. Anne Davey (for that was her name) turned out to be a truly excellent dancer at both Rock and Roll and Twist, whereas my own efforts could only be described as pathetic.

“In typical student party style, Anne and I ended up, fairly late that evening, sittting in one of the bedrooms with half a dozen other couples, setting right the world’s problems. At one point in the conversation, Anne motioned towards a crucifix on the wall and asked me point blank whether I was Catholic. I gave a slightly too hurried and emphatic “No”, and she then calmly said to me, “Well, in that case, I bet you never thought you would be sitting here holding hands with a Catholic girl!” Her words hit me between the eyes and I almost dropped here hand there and then and invented an excuse to leave the room, but her sheer female attractiveness begged me to stay put.

Who knows what could have happened if he stayed put!