Before we ask Him
I’ve been encouraged today preparing to preach and I thought about Helen Roseveare, missionary doctor to Africa. Her autobiographical stories as a missionary are wonderful.
Give Me This Mountain
Living Sacrifice: Willing to be Whittled as an arrow (Living…)
The following was taken from Faithful Women and Their Extraordinary God
by Noel Piper (which is available right now for the Kindle for $4.28)
by Noel Piper (which is available right now for the Kindle for $4.28)
“A woman died giving birth, leaving the premature newborn and a two-year-old daughter. There were no incubators because there was no electricity, so a hot water bottle was the way to keep a tiny baby warm enough during the drafty, cool nights. But in the humid tropics, rub- ber deteriorates rapidly. So when their last water bottle was filled for this baby, it burst. A nurse was assigned the sole task of holding that baby and keeping it warm with her own body heat.
The next day, Helen met with the orphanage children for their reg- ular prayer time. She told them about the baby who needed to be kept warm and about the older sister, weeping because their mother was gone. Helen recorded the prayer of ten-year-old Ruth and her own response to that “impossible” prayer.
“Please, God . . . send us a hot water bottle. It’ll be not good tomorrow, God, as the baby’ll be dead, so please send it this afternoon. . . . And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl, so she’ll know You really love her?”
Could I honestly say, “Amen?” I just did not believe that God could do this. . . . The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa almost four years at that time, and I had never, never received a parcel from home. . . .
By the time I reached home . . . there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel . . . bearing U.K. stamps. . . . I sent for the orphanage children. . . . Some thirty to forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.
[After pulling out several items], as I put my hand in again, I felt the . . . could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out— yes, a brand new, rubber, hot water bottle! I cried. . . .Ruth . . . rushed forward, crying out, “If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!” Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted. . . .That parcel had been on its way for five whole months . . . in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old, to bring it “that afternoon.” (p. 157,158)
