FOODFORTHOUGHT

Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, told
this as it happened to her 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 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 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 twenty-two 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 nice 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, 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

PRAYER
"Lord, increase my hunger for you and show me the way that leads to everlasting peace and happiness. May I desire you above all else and find perfect joy in doing your will".

****************************************************************

DISCLAIMER: FoodForThought shared this message as submitted and do not claim to own any copyright privileges on it. All the messages are believed to be free for circulation or public domain. All messages come in either by email in original form or copied from the internet sites. The work was submitted to us as an item for distribution, and it was posted solely on the basis of its quality. It's a FREE service.

****************************************************************

To subscribe/unsubscribe, tell friends about FoodForThought, share a reflection, read past issues and feedbacks, give donation or submit a prayer request please go to: http://www.dailyfoodforthought.org

If you have no access to the internet, use these emails:

To subscribe:

subscribe@dailyfoodforthought.org

To unsubscribe:

unsubscribe@dailyfoodforthought.org

Feel free to forward this to your friends, family and associates!

Have a nice day!

© 2006 FoodForThought