One day, a man walked into the office of his lawyer in order to ask how his work was going. The man had asked the lawyer to evict an elderly man and woman from a house they were renting from him because they were far behind in the rent and he wanted to sell the house to make a little profit. The man was not in any need of money, however, he just wanted a little more, to live a little more of a luxurious life. If they could not catch up on their rent, he was determined to evict them.
The lawyer, however, had changed his mind about taking the case.
“No,” said the lawyer, “I will not follow through with your claim against that man; you can get some one else to take the case, or you can withdraw it, whatever you please.”
“Do you not think it will make any money at this time?” asked the man.
“There would probably be a little money in it, but it would come, as you know, from the sale of the little house the man occupies and calls his ‘home.’ And I really don’t want to meddle with this case.”
“What made you change your mind? Has God frightened you out of the case?”
“Not at all.”
“Or perhaps the old man convinced you not to follow through with the case?”
“Well, yes, he did.”
“And you gave in, I suppose?”
“Well, yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I believe I shed a few tears.”
“The old fellow begged pretty hard, then, for you to react like that.”
“No, he didn’t speak to me.”
“Well, may I ask, whom did he speak with?”
“His Father in heaven.”
“He took to praying, did he?”
“Yes; not for my benefit, however. After finding the little house, I knocked on the outer door which stood ajar, but no one heard me, so I stepped into the little hall, and looked through the crevice of the door into the sitting room; and there, upon the bed, with her silver head high on the pillows, was an old lady who looked just as my mother did when I last saw her. I was going to knock again when she said, ‘Come, Father, begin: I am ready now.’ So reverently down on his knees went the silver-haired man: and I couldn’t have knocked then for the life of me; not when he was just about to pray for his sick wife.
“Well, he began:
“First, he reminded God that they were still his submissive children, mother and he, and no matter what He saw fit to bring upon them, they would not rebel against His will. Of course, it was going to be hard for them to go out homeless in their old age, especially with poor mother so sick and helpless; but still they had seen sadder things than that. But O, how different might it now be had even one of their boys been spared to them! Then his voice somewhat broke, and a thin white hand stole from under the coverlet, and moved softly over his snow-white head. Then he went on to repeat that nothing could be so sad again as the parting with their three sons – unless mother and he should be separated. But at last he fell to comforting himself with the fact that the gracious Lord knew that it was no fault of their own that mother and he were threatened with the loss of their little home, which to them meant beggary and the almshouse – a place they prayed the Lord to deliver them from entering, if consistent with His will. Then he quoted a number of promises concerning the safety of them that put their trust in the Lord. Yes, I should say he begged hard. In fact, it was the most thrilling plea to which I ever listened. And in conclusion, he prayed for God’s blessing upon those who were about to demand justice. He prayed for you and I.”
Pausing a moment in silence, the lawyer continued slowly, “and I believe I would rather go to the poorhouse myself than stain my heart and hands with the blood of prosecuting these two dear people who have had a hard lot in their life.”
“So,” said the man, “you are a little afraid to defeat that prayer, eh?”
“Bless your soul, man,” the lawyer went on, “you could not defeat that prayer. I tell you, he left it all subject to the will of God; yet he did not fail to make known his desires, claiming that we had been commanded to make our requests known unto God. But of all the pleading I ever heard, that was the most impressive. You see, I was taught that kind of thing myself in my childhood; and why I was sent there to hear that prayer, I am sure I don’t know – but I hand the case over. I will not take your case.”
“I wish you hadn’t told me about the old man’s prayer,” said the client, uneasily.
“Why not?” asked the lawyer.
“Well, because I greatly desire the money that the little place would bring. But, like you, I also was taught the Bible straight enough when I was a youngster, and I hate to run against what you have just related. I wish you hadn’t heard a word of it, and another time I wouldn’t listen to petitions not intended for my ears.”
The lawyer smilingly said: “You are wrong again, my dear fellow; it was intended for my ears, and yours too; and God intended it. I remember hearing my aged mother sing about God moving in a mysterious way.”
“Well, my mother also used to sing the same,” said the client, as he twisted the claim papers in his fingers. “You can call them in the morning, if you like, and tell ‘mother and him’ the rent has been paid up.”
“In a mysterious way,” added the lawyer, smiling.
“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” James 5:16
“The Lord hears and answers prayer. He lays upon us no burden greater than we can bear in His strength and by His grace. In every time of need He is a present help. O, that we might have faith to ask Him for strength according to our great need. Faith is the hand by which we grasp the hand of the mighty Helper. God’s promises are sure. Why should we not take Him at His word?” –The Gospel Herald, December 10, 1902
“Jesus Himself, while He dwelt among men, was often in prayer. Our Saviour identified Himself with our needs and weakness, in that He became a suppliant, a petitioner, seeking from His Father fresh supplies of strength, that He might come forth braced for duty and trial. He is our example in all things. He is a brother in our infirmities, ‘in all points tempted like as we are;’ but as the sinless one His nature recoiled from evil; He endured struggles and torture of soul in a world of sin. His humanity made prayer a necessity and a privilege. He found comfort and joy in communion with His Father. And if the Saviour of men, the Son of God, felt the need of prayer, how much more should feeble, sinful mortals feel the necessity of fervent, constant prayer.” –Steps to Christ, p. 93