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The accompanying facts were
related last summer by a friend in Holland, who knows them. There is
nothing very striking or profound in them. They belong, perhaps, to the
unnoticed commonplace of life—to such sides of it as any one may see, and
any one may overlook. Yet, in their simple, natural truth, they have their
lesson—real, homely teaching, after their own fashion. When the power of
prayer is brought out in connexion with the power of revival, it is
necessary to separate between a combination which is temporary and one
which is essential. The power of prayer is as old as the gift of faith.
Transient circumstances may give it a special prominence; but it is
independent of them. Where there is a revival there will be an effectual,
fervent prayer; but effectual, fervent prayer is by no means limited to
revival. It exists, and displays its forces, and wins its victories in the
world of the unseen, although no public stir should flaunt it before the
wonder of men;—it exists in quiet hearts, and in calm and gentle days, and
when the Spirit is not rushing with the sweep of the tempest, but
breathing, like a wind that goes whispering round the flowers. We
naturally turn for it to crises of spiritual manifestation: it is well for
us to be reminded that it may characterise the ordinary times of any
spiritual life. These prayers, also, are not about strictly religious
matters. They are all borrowed from the petition—"Give us this day our
daily bread." They concern the body and bodily deliverance, bodily
necessities and bodily straits; for there is no limit to the kingdom over
which the power of prayer rules save the limit of human life and thought.
They are frank and truthful, touching upon direct and palpable wants, and,
without any consciousness of impropriety, bringing God into the very
centre of these wants. It is a very real, it may be a very common thing
for people in great poverty to find they have no food. It is very true,
and it may be very common, that God hears their prayer, and supplies them.
It is very true also that the answer is sent in a common way and through
very ordinary means. But that life is not common life which hangs so
closely by the skirts of God, in which He is so visibly present doing
according to His will; it has its marvel and rare preciousness though it
should manifest itself as here only with regard to the last turf or the
children's supper. For our life is not all spiritual, nor concerning the
private divine communion of the soul; but, "whether ye eat, or drink, or
whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. Be careful for nothing ; but
in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your
requests be made known unto God." And it is a blessed light that these,
and similar narratives, throw upon the dark homes of the poor, shewing
that there may be, though unknown to us, thousands of desolate, lonely
rooms that can bear witness to the victory of faith and the power of
prayer in the plain struggle of every day, and teaching us, whether rich
or poor, "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee."
A poor widow, who believed
God, lived at U——. God had supported her, with her six children, for many
years, and had never put her trust to shame. Last spring her faith was
greatly tried; her provisions were entirely exhausted, her fuel reduced to
two turf. Her situation was very dark and seemed hopeless. She went once
more to a quiet corner in her garret, where she kept her Bible ; she took
refuge with the Lord, poured out her wants before Him, besought Him to
have mercy that very day. " Ah, dear Lord," she said, in her simple way,
"my precious Father, we have no food, and now we have nothing more to
burn." The words had scarcely expired on her lips when she heard a man
call loudly for her from below, and ask her where he might put 500 turf.
They had been sent by the distributors of a fund for poor widows, of which
she had never heard. " According to thy faith be it unto thee."
There is a widow in
A------whose sole support, after her husband's death, was an only
daughter. This daughter soon died. Her last thought for herself was, "My
soul longs for Jesus." Her last thought for her mother was, "Dearest
mother, I have trusted you to the Lord, who will care for you." Eleven
years have passed, and she has never wanted. She has taken her sister and
niece into her house, and still God supplies her; yet she has seldom more
than her daily bread. Her faith has been strengthened; she has no
uneasiness; she says it is the Lord who provides. A------ often visits
her; and as often as he has asked if she is in need, she has replied, "No,
I want nothing; there is enough for to-day both for me, and those who are
with me." "O woman, great is thy faith!" L------and his wife sat together
one Saturday afternoon, weary and wretched. They were miserably poor; but
no one knew it. Everything had gone against them; and a shop which had
hitherto brought in a little was now so empty that, to hide their
necessity, they closed it. It was a sad, bleak prospect into the next week
as they sat there, silent, looking into each other's haggard faces. She
had fasted so long that the pain forced her to speak—the dull, irritated
complaint of hunger. The husband had no money to buy her bread. He left
the room with a heavy sorrow, and begged of the Lord to look in mercy upon
them, and to give them food. As he prayed, he thought he heard a voice
that said to him, "The Lord will deliver thee;" and he began to sing a
psalm with a joyful heart. Meanwhile a girl had knocked at the door. She
wished to buy a trifle that cost a shilling; it was the last article in
the shop, and the money was paid. The woman hurried to her husband; he was
praising God. She was astonished; and he told her why he sang and was
glad. Then she related what had happened. "And now," she said, "we have
already enough for to-day, and even for to-morrow." So they rejoiced
together, and spent the evening in thankfulness.
There was a true believer
who lived in U------. He was a widower, left with five children; and he
was very poor. He had spent two days without food, and he could bear it
for himself; but the children hungered, and cried for bread, and he had
none to give them. He prayed to God many times, and no answer came.
However, he continued, and he told his children to be patient, and wait on
God, and said, "l am sure you will not go to bed without food." But they
were starving, and replied, "Father, you have often told us the same
thing, and we have received nothing yet." And still he answered, ''I have
prayed to God, and, as I knelt, He promised to feed us before night; and
His promises are faithful." And the children were hushed, and thought of
the wonderful Helper, and how He would come to them. They had no fire, but
they drew together in the corner; and the father looked at them, and tears
started down his cheeks ; yet he knew God would not fail. Many feet passed
by the door; but there was no loitering step, and none that stopped.
Presently there were fewer; for the evening was falling, and it grew still
without; and they could hear the clock strike the long hours. Seven and
eight it tolled, and people seemed to have gone to rest; and the children
thought the angels must have gone to rest too. Scarcely had the clock
struck nine—and they listened how clear each stroke fell through the
noiseless air—when there was a knock at the door, and a woman brought in a
dish with potatoes, and told them they would find something more than
that. They found money among the potatoes, and one of the children went
out to buy wood and salt. As it passed through the street a servant came
up, and said: "Have you brothers and sisters at home?"—"Oh, yes," he made
answer; "we are five."—"Then you can take this with you," handing a large
parcel to the child. And when he returned, the parcel was opened and it
was found to be a large ham. And they never knew who the woman was, nor
who was the servant. But the children said they were the angels, and ate
their supper with exceeding gladness and faith, thinking that God himself
was feeding them, and that He in heaven had heard their father praying in
the corner. |
