Showing posts with label answer to our prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label answer to our prayer. Show all posts

Saturday 23 October 2021

Mother's prayer- story

 


“Susanna Wesley”


It would be an understatement to say Susanna Annesley came from a large family. She was the twenty-fifth child of a well-known London minister. She was also an intelligent, deeply spiritual girl. Susanna’s daily prayer was “Dear God, guide me. Help me do Thy will. Make my life count.”


Susanna lived in fear that her father would be arrested for his preaching. He was a preacher in the Dissenters’ church. The Dissenters were Christians who worshiped God in their own way rather than following the rules of the Church of England. In the late 1600’s it was against the law to preach for any church other than the Church of England. Dissenters had been branded, had their ears cut off, and been burned alive. Once, soldiers came to the Annesley’s  home and took many of their belongings as a fine because of her father’s preaching.


Susanna dearly loved and respected her father. From him she learned to study and pray at the same time every day—a habit she would one day teach her own children. When she was nineteen, Susanna married Samuel Wesley. Samuel was not only a very committed minister, but he too was highly intelligent and well educated. He also loved to write. Unfortunately for Susanna, he was not a practical man.


Their first home was drab and tiny. Samuel’s job at a small church in a village near London paid very little. They soon had a baby boy and named him Samuel after his father. Susanna prayed that God would use their son and the children that would come later to make a difference in the world.


After a few years, Samuel got a job in a bigger church in the country, one hundred miles from London. Although his pay was better and a house was provided for them, the move was difficult for Susanna. One hundred miles was a long way to be separated from family and friends when the only means of travel was by horse and carriage. She might never see them again.


Samuel spent most of his free time writing magazine articles and poetry, so it was up to Susanna to see that their growing family was clothed and fed. But in spite of Samuel’s shortcomings, Susanna loved him.


Her strong faith saw her through many hardships. Three of their first seven children died. Her oldest son had never talked. On top of that, Samuel made an important man angry by telling the woman he was living with is not his wife and what they were doing was sinful. This meant he we sure to lose his job.


During those dark days, Susanna turned to God for help. She was given a ray of joy when little Samuel finally began to talk when he was five years old. She began teaching him to read and found he had a very quick mind and memorized easily.


Then her husband was offered a job in another town. It paid better still, and a big house on three acres of land was included. Now they could grow their own food. But there were moving expenses, their growing family needed more furniture. They also needed to buy equipment and animals before they could do any farming. All of this put them in debt equal to a year’s salary.


The unschooled church people in the new place didn’t get along well with the Wesleys, who were educated and had famous and important ancestors. They also didn’t like Samuel’s political ideas and his loyalty to the king. A lonely Susanna turned to God for comfort.


One time while Samuel was away, the family was kept awake by gunshots and an angry mob’s pounding and shouting. Because Susanna was recovering from giving birth, a nurse was taking care of her baby across the street. When the mob finally left, the tired nurse fell into a deep sleep and rolled over on the baby and smothered it.


Some time later, an angry church member demanded that Samuel pay him some money he owed him right away. Samuel couldn’t, so the man had him put into prison for three months. While he was gone, one of his enemies killed all their cows, Susanna’s main means of support. Friends helped her and paid Samuels’s debt.


In 1702, a fire ruined two-thirds of their home. Rebuilding the house put them deeper in debt. Seven years later, another fire destroyed nearly everything they owned.


As if constant money troubles and problems with the townspeople weren’t enough, seven more of Susanna’s children died. Of their nineteen children, only nine lived to be adults.


Through it all, Susanna spent six hours a day teaching them. Determined that her children would learn their duty toward God and their neighbours, she wrote three religious textbooks for them. Her teaching was so effective that every one of them grew to love learning and godly living. Somehow, Susanna managed to spend two hours a day in her own Bible reading and prayer.


In the end, Susanna’s teaching, her daily prayers for her children, and her own godly example made a great impact on her world. While her sons John and Charles were studying at college, they started a club with other students who wanted to know and serve God better. The group became known as Methodists, because they had methods for praying, fasting, and studying the Bible at set times.


    Later, tens of thousands would hear John and Charles. John led the Methodist revival in England, which turned people back to the true gospel. And Charles carried the message to countless churches through the hymns



Monday 28 June 2021

🍒 *"Indestructible📚 Bible"* 🍒




*_“And it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one title of law to fail.”_* – Luke 16:17 


👉 *Once in Spain, a mother did her ministry in a different way. She used to buy the Holy Bibles and give them to the known people free of cost. The construction work of a building was going on near that mother’s house. Masons from various places were working there. She came to know that the head of the masons was an atheist by his conversation. She prayed for him many days, bought the Bible, wrote his name and gave it to him with love. She asked him to read it without fail. But the atheist assured that he would neither read nor let others read it. So instead of a brick, he put the Bible in the wall and plastered it.*


👉 *Years passed. That building collapsed due to the earthquake occurred in that area. A government official who came to inspect found the Bible in the debris. He took it with him and he began to read it. Word of God worked powerfully in him. Later he joined the Bible society and started his ministry with the distribution of the Bibles. One day he happened to meet the head of the masons who was in trouble and with a broken heart. He spoke to him kindly and comforted him with the word of God and then handed the Bible to him. On seeing the Bible, the wicked deed he did long back came to his mind.*


👉 *The mason explained to him “A mother gave the Bible to me long back. Out of hatred I put in along with the bricks in the wall and plastered it.” The officer checked if his Bible was the same as he had taken it from the ruins of a building. To their pleasant surprise, it was the same Bible. They could see his name written in it. A non-believer had become a believer of Christ.* 


👉 *Dear, the Holy Bible cannot be destroyed by anyone. Read the Bible given in your hands with sensation. Meditate on the word of God. Then you will see the miracles being fulfilled in your lives. May God bless you according to His promises!*



Monday 8 June 2020

Answer to the Prayer !! Renewal story

*This story touched me a lot, and I want to share it with you.*


*The theme was: HOLD ON TO CHRIST:*

*A Pastor was ministering in a remote area where he had to trek each Sunday for 4 hours through thick forest, and to make it on time, he had to start travelling on foot from 4:00 am.* 

*One Sunday morning, as the Pastor was in the midst of the forest, thunder announced rains. He knelt down and prayed to God to hold the rains back until he reached the parish and to protect his pastoral vestments, his Bible and communion. But after prayer, the rains started pouring heavily. He reached the parish badly soacked by the rains. He preached but with discouragement because to him, God had not answered  his prayers.*

*Back home, he could not even eat. He was contemplating whether to resign or continue because he could no longer serve a God who does not answer prayers. He believed his prayers were not effective and did not match  his preaching.*

*While he was reflecting on the decision to take, three young men entered his home and said to him: "Pastor, we came to testify and assure u that you should continue serving your God for He is a living God."*

*The pastor changed his attitude and was eager to know more. They showed him money and told him they'd been paid to kill him because his prayers and preachings were disturbing the witches, wizards, sorcerers and occultists in this community.*

*That they were in the forest waiting for him to shoot him when from nowhere and in the midst of the dry season, heavy rains started pouring and wet the gun powder they were to use. They were shocked by this event. They were holding guns in their hands as they watched the pastor pass them with no power to accomplish their awful mission.*

*After hearing this, the Pastor knelt down, thanked God and committed to serve Him for the rest of his life and said, he has a God that will never fail him.*

*Do you have a God that always answers your prayers the way you want?*

*Draw your own lesson. The truth is: GOD ANSWERS PRAYER.*

*Be blessed and Hold on to Christ. Share this if you were touched and inspired like I just did.*  

 *Shalom..!!*

Friday 28 February 2020

The Richest Family in Church.

👇👇👇👇👇



The Rich Family In Church will never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister Ocy was 12,and my older sister Darlene 16. We lived at home with our mother, and the four of us knew what it was to do without many things. My dad had died five years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids to raise and no money. By 1946 my older sisters were married and my brothers had left home. A month before Easter the pastor of our church announced that a special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He asked everyone to save and give sacrificially. When we got home, we talked about what we could do. We decided to buy 50pounds of potatoes and live on them for a month. This would allow us to save $20 of our grocery money for the offering. Then we thought that if we kept our electric lights turned out as much as possible and didn’t listen to the radio, we’d save money on that month’s electric bill. Darlene got as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us
babysat for everyone we could. For 15 cents we could buy enough cotton loops to
make three potholders to sell for $1. We made $20 on potholders. That month was the best of our lives. Every day we counted the money to see how much we had saved. At night we’d sit in the dark and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the money the church would give them. We had about 80 people in church, so we figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the offering would surely be about 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the pastor had reminded everyone to save for the sacrificial offering. The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all our change. We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We had never had so much money before.
That night we were so excited we could hardly sleep. We didn’t care that we wouldn’t have new clothes for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We could hardly wait to get to church! On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn’t own an umbrella, and the church was over a mile from our home, but it didn’t seem to matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the holes. The cardboard came apart, and her feet got wet. But we sat in church proudly. I heard some teenagers talking about the Smith girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their new clothes and felt rich.
When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us kids put in a $20.As we walked home after church, we sang all the way. At lunch Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen eggs, and we had boiled Easter eggs with our fried potatoes! Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn’t say a word. She opened the envelope and out fell a bunch of money. There were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 and seventeen $1 bills. Mom put the money back in the envelope.
We didn’t talk, just sat and stared at the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling like poor white trash. We kids had such a happy life that we felt sorry for anyone who didn’t have our Mom and Dad for parents and a house full of brothers and sisters and other kids visiting constantly. We thought it was fun to share silverware and see whether we got the spoon or the fork that night. We had two knives that we passed around to whomever needed them. I knew we didn’t have a lot of things that other people had, but I’d never thought we were poor.
That Easter day I found out we were. The minister had brought us the money for the poor family, so we must be poor. I didn’t like being poor. I looked at my dress and worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed. I didn’t even want to go back to church. Every one there probably already knew we were poor! I thought about school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of over 100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew that we were poor. I decided that I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade. That was all the law required at that time. We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went to bed. All that week, we girls went to school and came home, and no one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn’t know. We’d never known we were poor. We didn’t want to go to church on Sunday, but Mom said we had to.
Although it was a sunny day, we didn’t talk on the way. Mom started to sing, but no one joined in and she only sang one verse. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how churches in Africa made buildings out of sun dried bricks, but they needed money to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The minister said, “Can’t we all sacrifice to help these poor people? ”We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put it in the offering. When the offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was excited. He hadn’t expected such a large offering from our small church. He said, “You must have some rich people in this church. “Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that “little over $100.” We were the rich family in the church! Hadn’t the missionary just said so? From that day on I’ve never been poor again. I’ve always remembered how rich I am because I have Jesus! 

Eddie Ogan.

👆👆👆👆👆

Tuesday 8 October 2019

📖 The man who translated the Bible into English 📗📚

MEET WILLIAM TYNDALE ~  the man who translated the Bible into English and was burnt alive at the ridiculous young age of 42 years old, for his efforts. (Google Foxe's book of Martyrs.)

Please; kindly read this to the end. 

Nearly 500 years ago, this week, William Tyndale, fondly called 'Father of the English Bible' was strangled and burned at the stake after being tried and convicted of heresy and treason for translating the Bible into English.

HIS OFFENSE!
He translated the Greek Bible into English. Simple:

That you have a Bible in a language you can read is largely due to his labours, and many of the very phrases you read in it retain the flavour of his understanding of the Greek and Hebrew.

A graduate of Oxford and Cambridge, Tyndale had a powerful desire to make the Bible available to even the common people in England, in order to correct the 'Biblical ignorance of the priests.' At one point Tyndale told a priest, "If God spares my life, ere many years pass, I will cause a boy that driveth the plow, shall know more of the Scriptures than thou dost." 

Today, 90% of the King James Version of the Holy Bible and 75% of the Revised Standard Version are from the translation made by Tyndale, a man to whom you owe more than you'll ever know. 

A nice dream, but how was Tyndale to accomplish his task, when translating the Bible into English was ILLEGAL at the time?'

He went to London to ask Bishop Tunstall if he could be authorised to make an English translation of the Bible, but the Bishop would not grant his approval. 

However, Tyndale would not let the disapproval of men stop him from carrying out what seemed so obviously God's will. With encouragement and support of some British merchants, he decided to go to Europe to complete his translation, then have it printed and smuggled back into England.

In 1524 Tyndale sailed for Germany. In Hamburg, he worked on the New Testament, and in Cologne, he found a printer who would print the work. However, news of Tyndale's activity came to an opponent of the Reformation who had the press raided. 

Tyndale himself managed to escape with the pages already printed and made his way to the German city Worms where the New Testament was soon published.

Six thousand copies were printed and smuggled into England.

The Bishops did everything they could to eradicate the Bibles. Bishop Tunstall had copies ceremoniously burned at St. Paul's; the Archbishop of Canterbury bought up copies to destroy them. Tyndale used the money to print improved editions!

Tyndale continued hiding among the merchants in Antwerp and began translating the Old Testament while the King's agents searched all over England and Europe for him.

A copy of Tyndale's "The Obedience of a Christian Man" fell into the hands of Henry VIII, providing the king with the rationale to break the Church in England from the Roman Catholic Church in 1534. 
In 1535, Tyndale was arrested and jailed in the castle of Vilvoorde (Filford) outside Brussels for over a year.

Tyndale’s work was denounced by authorities of the Roman Catholic Church and Tyndale himself was accused of heresy. 

Tyndale, 42 was finally found by an Englishman who pretended to be his friend but then turned him over to the authorities. After a year and a half in prison, he was brought to trial for heresy -- FOR BELIEVING, among other things, IN THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS and that THE MERCY OFFERED IN THE GOSPEL WAS ENOUGH FOR SALVATION. In August 1536, he was condemned and was executed [burned alive at the stake] publicly on October 6, 1536, in a small town in Belgium.

As he burnt to death, Tyndale reportedly said "Lord, open the king of England's eyes."

WAS HIS PRAYER ANSWERED? 

YES! The prayer was answered first in part when three years later, in 1539, Henry VIII required every parish church in England to make a copy of the English Bible available to its parishioners. Today, Tyndale's prayer is fully answered, not only are the King's eyes opened, but the Bible a universal instrument. 

* In 1611, the 54 scholars who produced the King James Bible drew significantly from Tyndale, as well as from translations that descended from his. 

* In 2002, Tyndale was placed at number 26 in the BBC's poll of the 100 Greatest Britons; but in heaven he surely would be before the preceding 25. 

A very important and interesting piece of history worth knowing and appreciating by all believers. 
And may it *challenge* us to spend quality time in this same glorious book that this great servant literally gave his life for. 

Today it's hard to imagine the world without an English Bible, and there could now be as many as 900 of such translations in existence – but before Tyndale it had never happened. He's known as the Father of the English Bible, since the later, epochal work of the King James Version of the Bible largely consisted of Tyndale's scholarly and accessible translations.

The English language, as with scholarly understanding, continues to evolve – and so the work of Bible translation continues today.

But without the courage and genius of men like Tyndale, who challenged the status quo before them and died for doing so, it might never have been possible.

Wednesday 21 August 2019

Does GOD still speak to people?



A young man attended a Wednesday Night Bible Study and the Pastor preached about listening to GOD and
obeying the Lord's voice. The young man couldn't help but ponder, 'Does GOD still speak to people?'
After service, he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message.
They talked about how GOD had led them in different ways.
It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home, and he prayed; ' GOD...If you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey.' As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk. He shook his head and said out loud, GOD is that you?' He didn't get a reply and started on toward home. But again, the thought, buy a gallon of milk came. The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of GOD, and how little Samuel ran to Eli. 'Okay, GOD, in case that is you, I will buy the milk.' It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home.
As he passed Seventh Street , he again felt the urge, 'Turn Down that street.' This is crazy he thought, and drove on past the intersection. Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street .At the next intersection; he turned back and headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud,’ Okay, GOD I will.' He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi- commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed. Again, he sensed something, 'Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street' The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat 'Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid.' Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk. Finally, he opened the door, 'Okay GOD, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something, but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here.' He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, 'Who is it? What do you want?’ Then the door opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. 'What is it?' The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, Here, I brought this to you.' The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway. Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk towards the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face. The man began speaking and half crying, 'We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk.
His wife in the kitchen yelled out, 'I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an angel?
The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man’s hand. He turned and walked back to his car and the tears were streaming down his face. He knew that GOD still answers prayers.Share it help a brother believe in prayer. It is a blessing to do God's work. 

Amen

Wednesday 20 February 2019

Answered prayer - Heart touching story 💙💚💛💜💗

I wept when I read this. God is great!
I found it so touching 
Isaiah 65:24 :- “Before they call, I will answer.” 

This is a testimony written  by a doctor who worked in Africa. 

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive; as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities. 

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in.   
    
Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates).  “And it is our last hot water  bottle!” she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles.  They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. 

“All right,”  I said,  “put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.” 

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. 

During prayer time, one ten -year-old  girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children.  “Please, God” she prayed, “Send us a hot water bottle today.  It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.” 

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, “And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?” 

As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say “Amen?” I just did not believe that God could do this. 

Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home.  Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put  in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! 

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly.  Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend. 

Then, 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.  I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. 

Ruth was in the front row of the children. She 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!  Looking up at me, she asked, “Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?” 

“Of course,” I replied! 

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. 

And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it “that afternoon.” 

“Before they call, I will answer.” (Isaiah 65:24) 

When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all I ask. No strings attached. Then just send it on to whomever you want to – but do send it on.
  Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards. Let's continue praying for one another

Wednesday 6 February 2019

The Christian drummer boy - Amazing story


*#voice_of_revival_broadcast*

#tribute_to_Charlie
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨


🥁 THE CHRISTIAN DRUMMER BOY❣

The following story is a true acount, taking from an old, out-of-Print book called "Touching incidents and Remarkable Answers to Prayer". It was compiled by S. B. Shaw and published in 1894.

I was a surgeon in the United States Army during the Civil War. After the battle of Gethysburg, there were hundreds of wounded soldiers in my hospital. Many were wounded so severely that a leg or an arm, or sometimes both, needed to be amputated.

One of these was a boy who had only been in the service for 3 months. Since he was too young to be soldier, he had enlisted as a drummer. When my assistant came to give him chloroform before the amputation he turned his head and refused it. When they told him that it was the doctor's orders, he said, 'send the doctor to me'. I came to his bedside and said 'young man, why do you refuse chloroform? When I found you on the battle field, you were so far gone that I almost didn't border to pick you up. But when you opened those large blue eyes, it occurred to me that you had a mother somewhere who might be thinking of you at that very moment. I didn't want you to die on the field so I had you brought here. But you've lost so much blood that you're just too weak to live through an operation without chloroform. You'd better let me give you some.'

He laid his hand on mine, looked me in the face and said, 'Doctor, one Sunday afternoon, when I was 9 and a half years old I gave my heart to Christ. I learned to trust him then, and I've been trusting him ever since. I know I can trust in Him now. He is my strength. He will support me while you amputate my arm and leg'. I asked him if he will at least let me give him a little brandy. Again he looked at me and said 'Doctor, When I was about 5 years old, my mother knelt by my side with her arms around me and said: "Charlie I am praying to Jesus that you will never take even one drink of alcohol. Your father died a drunkard, and I've asked God to use you to warn people against the dangers of drinking and to encourage them to love and serve the Lord". 
I am now  17 years old and I have never had anything stronger than tea or coffee. There is a very good chance that I am about to die and to go into the presence of my God. Would you send me there with brandy in my breath?' 

I will never forget the look that boy gave me. At that time I hated Jesus, but I respected that boy's loyalty to his Savior.  And when I saw how he loved and trusted him to the very end, something deeply touched my heart. I did for that boy what I have never done for any other soldier. I asked him if he wanted to see his chaplain.

Champlain R. knew the boy well from having seen him frequently at the tent of prayer meetings. Taking his hand, he said 'Charlie, I'm really sorry to see you like this'. 'Oh, I'm all right, Sir,' Charlie answered. The doctor offered me chloroform, but I told him I didn't want any. Then he wanted to give me brandy, which I didn't want either. So now, if my Savior calls me, I can go to him in my right mind.'

 'You might not die Charlie,' said the chaplain, but if the Lord does call you home, is there anything I can do for you after you're gone?' 'Chaplain please reach under my pillow and take my little Bible. My mother's address is inside. Please send it to her, and write a letter for me. Tell her that since I left home, I have never let a single day pass, no matter if we were on the March, or the battle-field, or in the hospital without reading a portion of God's word, and daily praying that He (God) would bless her."

'Is there anything else I can do for you, my lad?' asked the Chaplain. Yes please write a letter to the Sunday School teacher of the Sands Street Church in Brooklyn, New York. Tell him that I've never forgotten his encouragement, good advice, and many prayers for me. They have helped and comforted me through all the dangers of battle. And now, in my dying hour, I thank the Lord for my dear old teacher, and asked him to bless and strengthen him. That is all'.

Then turning to me, he said, 'I'm ready doctor. I promise I won't even groan while you take off my arm and leg, if you don't offer me chloroform'. I promised but didn't have the courage to take the knife in my hand without first going into the next room and taking a little brandy myself.

While cutting through the flesh, Charlie Coulson never groaned. But when I took the saw to separate the bone, the lad took the corner of his pillow in his mouth, and all I could hear him whisper was, 'O Jesus, blessed Jesus! Stand by me now.' He kept his promise. He never groaned.

I could not sleep that night.  Whichever way I tossed and turned 'Blessed Jesus stand by me now' kept ringing in my ears. a little after midnight, I finally left my bed and visited the hospital a thing I had never done before unless there was an emergency. I had such a strange and strong desire to see that boy. When I got there, an orderly told me that 16 of the badly wounded soldiers had died. Was Charlie Coulson one of them?' I asked. 'No Sir', he answered. 'He's sleeping as sweetly as a babe.'

When I came to his bed, one of the nurses said that about 9 o'clock two members of the Y.M.C.A came through the hospital to read and sing a hymn. Chaplain R. was with them, and he knelt by Charlie's bed and offered up a fervent and soul's stirring prayer. Then, while still on their knees, they sang one of the sweetest of all hymns, 'Jesus lover of my soul'. Charlie sang along with them too. I couldn't understand how that boy, who was in such horrible pain, could sing.

Five days after I performed the operation, Charlie sent for me, and it was from him that I heard my first gospel sermon. 'Doctor', he said, my time has come. I don't expect to see another sunrise. I want to thank you with all my heart for your kindness to me. I know you are Jewish and that you don't believe in Jesus, but I want you to stay with me and see me die trusting my Savior to the very last moment of my life.' I tried to stay, but I just couldn't. I didn't have the courage to stand and see a Christian boy die rejoicing in the love of that Jesus who I hated. So, I huridly left the room.

 About 20 minutes later an orderly came and found me sitting in my office with my hands covering my face. He told me that Charlie wanted to see me. 'I've just seen him', I answered 'and I can't see him again.' 'But doctor, he says he must see you once more before he dies.' so I made up my mind to go and see Charlie, say an endearing word, and let him die. However, I was determind that nothing he could say would influence me in the least bit, so far as his Jesus was concerned.

When I entered the hospital, I saw he was sinking fast so I sat down by his bed. Asking me to take his hand, he said, "Doctor, I love you because you are a Jew.' The best friend I have found in this world was a Jew.' I asked him who that was and he answered, 'Jesus Christ and I want to introduce you to him before I die. will you promise me? Doctor, What I'm about to say to you, you will never forget?' I promised, and he said 5 days ago while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed  to the Lord Jesus Christ, and asked him to make His love known to you.'

Those words went deep into my heart. I couldn't understand how, when I was causing him the most intense pain, he could forget all about himself and think of nothing but his Savior and my unconverted soul. All I could say to him, was, 'Well, my dear boy you will soon be alright'. With these words I left him, and 12 minutes later he fell asleep, 'safe in the arms of Jesus'.

Hundreds of soldiers died in my hospital during the war, but I only followed one to the grave, and that was Charlie Coulson. I rode 3 miles to see him buried. I had him dressed in a new uniform and placed in an officer's coffin, with a United State's flag over it.

That boy's dying words made a deep impression upon me. I was rich at that time so far as money was concerned, but I would have given every penny I possess if I could have felt towards Christ as Charlie did. That feeling cannot be bought with money. Alas, I soon forgot all about my Christian soldier's little sermon, but i could not forget the boy himself. Looking back I now know that I was under deep conviction of sin at that time. But for nearly 10 years I fought against Christ with the hatred I had, until finally the boy's prayer was answered and I surrendered my life to the love of Jesus.

About a year and a half after my conversion, I went to a prayer meeting one evening in Brooklyn. It was one of those meetings where Christians testify about the loving kindness of God. After several had spoken, an elderly lady stood up and said, 'Dear friends, this may be the last time I have a chance to publicly share how good the Lord has been to me. My doctor told me yesterday my right lung is nearly gone, and my left lung is failing fast, so at the best I only have a short time to be with you. But what is left of me belongs to Jesus. It's a great joy to know that I shall soon meet my son with Jesus in heaven.

Charlie was not only a soldier for his country, but also a soldier for Christ. He was wounded at the battle of Gettysburg, and was cared for by a Jewish doctor, who amputated his arm and leg. He died 5 days after the operation. The chaplain of the regiment wrote me a lettter and sent me my boys Bible. I was told that in his dying hour, my Charlie sent for that Jewish doctor, and said to him 'doctor, before i die, i wish to tell you that five days ago, while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus Christ for you'.

As I heard this lady speak, I just couldn't sit still, I left my seat, ran accros the room, and taking her hand said, God bless you my dear sister. Your boy's prayer has been heard and answered! I am the jewish doctor that Charlie prayed for, and his Saviour is now my Saviour!
 *The love of Jesus has won my soul!'*
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Thursday 16 June 2016

●●●Be Grateful ●●



*The qualification that gave you a job, is the same qualification someone has who still does not have a job.* 
       *Be grateful.*   

*The prayer that God answered for you, is the same prayer others have been praying but without success.* 
          *Be grateful.*

*The road you use safely on a daily basis, is the same road where many others lost their precious lives.*
           *Be grateful.*

*The temple in which God blessed you, is the same temple other people too worship in, yet their lives are still in discord.*
          *Be grateful.*

*The bed you used in the hospital, you got healed and were discharged, is the same bed many other people breathed their last.*
             *Be grateful.*

*The rain that made your field produce good crops, is the same rain that devastated someone else's field.*
         *Be grateful.*

*Be grateful because whatever you have is not by your power, your might, your talent or your qualifications, but it's just the "Grace of God."  HE  is the giver of everything you have.*
 
*For everything you have, be  grateful.*🙏

Wednesday 10 February 2016

Qualities of Prayer🙏


*The superiority of prayer*

1. Prayer gives strength

2. Prayer reveals the secrets of God.

3. Prayer heals broken hearts.

4. Prayer shows the way to God.

5. Prayer reveals God's plan.

6.Prayer will change everything.

7. Prayer gives humility.

8. Prayer encourages God's people.

9.Prayer expresses the love of God.

10.Prayer will build the Church of God.

11. Prayer will thwart Satan's machinations.

12. Prayer gives holiness.

⛪Get ready for second coming ✝️

 Every minute someone leaves this world behind. Age has nothing to do with it. We are all in "the line" without knowing it. We nev...