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Prayer and Answers "...The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." (James 5:16b) This page shares prayers, articles on prayer, and reports of answered prayer from the past and present. Something new is usually added at the top of the page each week. Please share with us anything you believe will help and encourage others to pray and trust God for His will to be done in answering their prayers. A FATHER'S FINAL PRAYER In August 19977, my wife and children joined me for as trip to Kansas City, Missouri, for a short visit with my parents. We enjoyed several days for family togetherness before it was time to leave. As we drove to the airport where we said goodbye, I asked my father to pray for us. I will never forget his words. He closed with this thought: And Lord, we want to thank you for the fellowship and love that we feel for each other today. This has been such a special time for us with Jim and Shirley and their children. But heavenly Father; we are keenly aware that the joy that is ours today is a temporal pleasure. Our lives will not always be this stable and secure. Change is inevitable, and it will come to us, too. We will accept it when it comes, of course, but we give You praise for the happiness and warmth that has been ours these past few days. We have had more than our share of the good things, and we thank You for Your love. Amen. Shortly thereafter, we hugged and said goodbye, and my family boarded the plane. A week later, my father suddenly grabbed his chest and told my mother to call the paramedics. He left us on December 4 of that year. Shortly after, my mother joined him in heaven. How quickly life changes! Even today, so many years later, my dad's final prayer echoes in my mind. An entire philosophy is contained in that simple idea: "Thank you, God, for what we have which we know we cannot keep." I wish every newlywed couple could capture that incredible concept. If we only realized how brief is our time on earth, then most of the irritants and frustrations that drive us apart would seem terribly insignificant and petty. We have but one short life to live, yet we contaminate it with bickering and insults and angry words. If we fully comprehended the brevity of life, our greatest desire would be to please God and to serve one another. Instead, the illusion of permanence leads us to scrap and claw for power and demand the best of ourselves. Prayer Changes Things "I simply can't work with that woman another day!" I wailed to a friend. "She's always right, has a sharp tongue and is incredibly stubborn." "You could fire her," my friend said when I paused for breadth. "But is that the best solution? Have you done everything you can to help her do her job?" "Of course!" I replied indignantly. "I've coached, I've sent her to seminars, I've provided written instructions, I've ---" "Have you prayed for her?" he asked. I hadn't, I confessed, because I didn't think God would change her. But as I set myself to pray for her anyway -- diligently and daily -- something else happened. I began to change, to view her behavior in a different light. Yes, she had a sharp tongue -- but she spoke from frustration, not anger. She was stubborn -- but a more fragile person would have broken under the workload she carried. And she was right -- most of the time! As I gained understanding, I was able to appreciate her dedication, talents and significant contributions. When I concentrated on the good points, I was able to deal more effectively with her shortcomings. In time, we were able to work together harmoniously and productively. "Prayer change things," reads a plaque on my office wall. When I go to God in prayer, He sometimes changes situations, and even other people. Most often, however, He changes me. ---Penny Schwab, Daily Guideposts, 1995 Do you often ask God to watch over and protect those you love? Do you pray that He will protect your children from evil and harm? Do you pray the same for God's ministers and missionaries? Does it do any good? We believe the following incident shared by Diane Bennett will illustrate that it does make a difference when God's people pray! This article is found in an issue of "Call to Prayer" by World Gospel Mission. GOD'S PROTECTION I am amazed by how God protects those who love Him. Recently we saw His protection in the lives of two women from Papua New Guinea. Preparations had been made and the date had finally arrived for the region wide women's conference with the Christian Union Churches in Papua New Guinea. The women from the Day Council congregation near Mt. Hagen planned to travel to the conference one day after it had begun. A couple of the women wanted to arrive at the start of the conference, so they set out a day earlier. As the two women were on their way, the public vehicle they were traveling in broke down. This caused them to get into Mendi too late to catch public transport to Poroma where the conference was taking place. The women were very afraid as they did not see anyone they knew and did not know where we lived in Mendi. Traveling without their family line can be very dangerous for women in PNG. As the women sat at the bus stop wondering what to do, they saw many men looking at them. The men were beginning to realize the women were alone. One of the women told me later that she was shaking because she was so afraid. Two men spoke up and said the one woman was his wife and the other a sister. The women did not know if the men were trying to protect them by claiming they were family or if they were out to harm them. The men picked up the women's bags and told them to follow them. The women had a choice: follow these men they didn't know or admit they were not related to them and become free game to the other men. The women followed the two men. At this time, one of the women noticed another woman watching them. She felt impressed by God to ask this woman if she knew us. She told us later that at first she felt this was crazy. She didn't know this woman. She decided not to ask her and continued following the men. Once again, she felt impressed to ask her about us. She finally decided to follow this prompting. She went up to the woman and said, "Do you know my missionaries?" The woman replied, "Who are your missionaries?" She told them our names. The woman said, "Yes, I know them. I work for them in their home. I just came from there and I can take you to them." By the time the two women arrived at our house, they were rejoicing. One of the women hugged me excitedly. The woman who had been directed by God to Joyce, our helper, was sobbing for joy. We were all able to clearly see God's protection in this situation. The women spent the night at our home and continued on to Poroma the next day. They arrived safely at the conference. We knew these two women would have quite a testimony to give at this conference. Many times God protects us when we may not be aware of His protective hand. We also know people are praying for our safety. Thank you for those prayers and please continue to pray not only for our safety, but also for the safety of our national brothers and sister in Christ. By Diane Bennett, Missionary to Papua New Guinea Saved from a Flood The following is from memory of what my sister wrote of herself, husband, and two little girls being saved from flood in the beginning of this year, 1917. She wrote with a stump of lead pencil on the pages of a small notebook found at the woolshed where they took refuge when the water abated. My very dear Mother: We are all here alive and well and write to relieve your anxiety about us and to tell you that we are sure we are saved in answer to your prayers. The flood came upon us unexpectedly and has bee the highest ever known. We thought we should be safe in the ceiling of our house which we reached, as the waters crept up and over each of our previous places of refuge. But it soon began to look as though this place too would fail to shelter us and we prayed to be guided as to the next move. My husband tore a batten from the ceiling and put it across from the roof to the fork of a young tree to form a bridge, and this offered a very faint hope of escape. Helen went across first bravely and steadily over the raging, roaring torrent without a flinch or a murmur. I went next; then we persuaded little May to follow but had to take time and patience to encourage the little thing to venture over as I held my arms out to her in front and her father helped her from behind. At last we got her across and none too soon as the house was lurching so that the plank was only just long enough to span the distance and a minute or two later would have dropped. Bert just managed to get across on it and drew it into the tree. This tree was new growth from an old root; the old trunk having been cut down near the ground. It was remarkable that there were just three new young stems from this old root, and each stem had a branch which formed a fork above the flood waters and pretty nearly at the same height. Bert put the batten from one fork to another to form a seat for us and he stood in the third fork. And here we spent the long hours of waiting and watching in the storm of wind and rain with the roaring torrents rushing beneath us. It seemed impossible that the young tender wood of the new growth would stand the tremendous strain of the heavy wind and water and we felt that any moment we might be swept away. We knew that God was our only deliverer and our hearts here kept lifted to Him. As the dawn began to glimmer, imaging our joy, mingled with doubt, as we fancied we could see familiar objects emerging above the top of the water. And the eagerness with which we watched for clearer light. As the light came we saw that the water had fallen many feet and was rapidly subsiding. Not a vestige of our house was left, but our hearts were overflowing with praise and thanksgiving that we were all spared and had received no harm. F.E.McC. --- from “I Cried, He Answered,” Moody Press. "... Men ought always to pray, and not to faint." Luke 18:1 It has been said that if Christians really understood the full extent of the power we have available through prayer, we would be speechless. Did you know that during WWII there was an adviser to Churchill who organized a group of people who stopped what they were doing, every day at a prescribed hour, for one minute to collectively pray for the safety of England, its people and peace? Now a group of people are organizing the same thing here in America. If you would like to participate: Every evening at 9:00 PM Eastern Time (8:00 PM Central) (7:00 PM Mountain) (6:00 PM Pacific), stop whatever you are doing and spend one minute praying for the safety of the United States, our troops, our citizens, and for a return to a Godly nation. Psalm 46:1 3 "....God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; though its waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling." We have faith in the Lord that He will take care of us. We do what we can, and when we can't He takes over! Amen. We have been in situations before that seemed hopeless yet God pulled us through. Our youngest daughter nearly drowned one day while whitewater rafting. I didn't know about it as I was not with her at the time but I was suddenly admonished from the Lord and The Holy Spirit drew my attention and I started to fervently pray on her behalf. I strongly perceived that her life was in danger! A week later, she called me and told me about her experience while whitewater rafting, and how their raft turned over. She explained how she'd been caught beneath it and how she had been pushed up against it by her life jacket while the strong current dragged her downstream. She was certain that she was going to drown because there was no way to get out from underneath the raft while the water current pushed it along. She recounts hearing her friends calling out to her and how she was suddenly pushed out for the second time from beneath the raft as it hurled further down stream. This was indeed a miracle! I asked her approximately when this had occurred. Surprisingly, she told me that this happened a week ago on Saturday Morning. This was the exact morning that I was urged from The Lord to pray for my daughter while I was on my way to the hospital where I worked at the time. She recounts that she actually discerned that someone was praying for her. It truly is a miracle! The Lords hand saved my daughters life! We both cried in thanksgiving to God while on the telephone. The following week she came home and showed me the pictures of everyone next to the raft minutes before they had begun their adventure. Happy... smiling faces... all action... We couldn't help but cry again! This could have been a very tragic accident, had I not been sensitive to the Spirit of God! I know that he uses us as His instruments because he always works through willing vessels! Praise the Lord! I know, He uses us as His instruments. He works through willing vessels. --- Anonymous God Hears the Prayer of the Boy in Trouble My first recollection of God hearing my prayer goes back to the time when as a bare-footed lad I lived with my parents on a farm. A few days before I had been presented with my first jack-knife, in those times quite an era in a boy’s life. That morning, while playing in the pasture, I had lost the precious knife and had spent over two hours in a fruitless search for the same. When my mother called me in to dinner my heart was too full of sorrow over my loss to care for any. It flashed into my mind that the Lord knew where that knife was, then why not ask Him to show me where it was? The only prayer that I knew up to that time was my evening prayer that I always repeated on my knees by my bed before retiring. That was the only place for prayer that I knew, so while the family were at dinner, I slipped into my bedroom and kneeling by my bed I poured out to the Lord my trouble and asked Him to lead me to where the lost knife lay. I got up from my knees, dried my tears, and with full confidence that I would find that knife, ran out again into the pasture, and walked straight to where I picked up the knife, about twenty-five yards into the field. I was too young to understand the theology of prayer, but I well remember that that day I had an overwhelming sense of the fact that God was interested in a boy’s troubles, and my heart was filled with gladness. A LITTLE GIRLS PRAYER Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, shares the following true story. 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 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. 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 the 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 water bottle. 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 by way of a corollary, "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 as 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. Bu the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so AI 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 nice batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the„mcould 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 ahs 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, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" 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!" Isa. 65:24

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