- We can be confused, disappointed, upset, and even angry with God because it seems our prayers are going unheard.
- It’s not just us, the Bible and the lives of Christians ever since have many such stories, but we are also given some reasons, which can really help our faith.
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Video cover image by Jack Lucas Smith Unsplash License
- The story of my painful experince this week, and crying to God
A Frequent Cry from God’s People
- Can you identify with this?
- So many Psalms are like this!
- (these Psalms usually end in praise)
- ever felt this?
- Not just in the Bible, but throughout history Christians have experienced sometimes crying out to God and he doesn’t seem to be there.
- Note this is not a definitive answer! Just my suggestions
- So how do we know we are praying for the right thing?
- It comes out of a relationship with God
- Anyone suggest what the wrong thing might be for us ??“I’m tired of my spouse, please give me a better one”
- So how do we know?
- So if we are abiding in his love, our wishes are in tune with what he wants to do.
- This is the first secret of answered prayer, and probably the most powerful one
- But God is very gracious and forgiving, and very often answers prayers, simply because he is kind
- Much of our prayer will be about our needs—he wants us to bring all our needs to him
Reading: 1. Early Lessons in Prayer
- Reading from How I Know God Answers Prayer by Rosalyn Goforth
Through the mists of memory one incident comes out clearly, which occurred when I was six or seven years of age. While playing one day in the garden, I was seized with what we then called “jumping” toothache. I ran to my mother for comfort, but nothing she could do seemed to ease the pain.
The nerve must have become exposed, for the pain was acute. Suddenly I thought, “Jesus can help me,” and just as I was, with my face pressed against my mother, I said in my heart:
“Lord Jesus, if you will take away this toothache right now, now, I will be your little girl for three years.”
Before the prayer was well uttered the pain was entirely gone. I believed that Jesus had taken it away; and the result was that for years, when tempted to be naughty, I was afraid to do what I knew was wrong lest, if I broke my side of what I felt to be a compact, the toothache would return. This little incident had a real influence over my early life, gave me a constant sense of the reality of a divine presence, and so helped to prepare me for the public confession of Christ as my Saviour a few years later, at the age of eleven.
Reading: 2. Our Little Son
- Reading from How I Know God Answers Prayer by Rosalind Goforth
During our fourth year in China, when we were spending the hot season at the coast, our little son, eighteen months old, was taken very ill with dysentery. After several days’ fight for the child’s life came the realization, one evening, that the angel of death was at hand.
My whole soul rebelled; I actually seemed to hate God; I could see nothing but cruel injustice in it all; and the child seemed to be fast going. My husband and I knelt down beside the little one’s bedside, and he pleaded earnestly with me to yield my will and my child to God. After a long and bitter struggle God gained the victory, and I told my husband I would give my child to the Lord. Then my husband prayed, committing the precious soul into the Lord’s keeping.
While he was praying I noticed that the rapid, hard breathing of the child had ceased. Thinking my darling was gone, I hastened for a light, for it was dark; but on examining the child’s face I found that he had sunk into a deep, sound, natural sleep, which lasted most of the night. The following day he was practically well of the dysentery.
To me it has always seemed that the Lord tested me to almost the last moment; then, when I yielded my dearest treasure to him and put my Lord first, he gave back the child.
- It is not wrong to pray this, but Jesus was trusting, not demanding.
- He is giving the decision to God
Reading: 3. God has a better plan
- Reading from How I Know God Answers Prayer by Rosalyn Goforth
I have been asked the question: “Has God always given you just what you have asked for?”
Oh, no! For him to have done so would have been great unkindness. For instance: when I was a young woman I prayed for three years that God would grant me a certain petition. Sometimes I pleaded for this as for life itself, so intensely did I want it. Then God showed me very clearly that I was praying against his will. I resigned my will to his in the matter, and a few months later God gave what was infinitely better. I have often praised him for denying my prayer; for had he granted it I could never have come to China.
In the autumn of 1885 the Toronto Mission Union decided to establish a branch mission in the East End slums of that city.… Everything connected with it was entirely new to me; but… in face of tremendous difficulties, that seemed to my inexperienced eyes insurmountable, I learned that prayer was the secret which overcame every obstacle, the key that unlocked every closed door.
The time came when two diverse paths lay before me—one to England, as an artist; one to China, as a missionary. Circumstances made a definite decision most difficult. I thought I had tried every means to find out God’s will for me, and no light had come.
But in a day of great trouble, when my precious mother’s very life seemed to hang in the balance, I shut myself up with God’s Word, praying definitely for him to guide me to some passage by which I might know his will for my life. …John 15 verse 16 seemed to come as a message to me: “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit.” Going to my dear mother and telling her of the message God had given me, she said: “I dare not fight against God.”
From that time the last hindrance from going to China was removed. Surely the wonderful way God has kept his child for more than thirty years in China is proof that this “call” was not a mistaken one. “In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will make plain thy paths”
- It is many years before God finally answers the problems and sends Jesus
- But in the meantime, the response was to be a trust-filled life—In the end God will do justice
- There is a gap between the prayer… and … the answer. Trust bridges the gap
Reading: Experience of a Minister’s Wife on the Frontier
- Reading from Minister’s Wife on the Frontier
I remember a day during one winter that stands out like a boulder in my life. The weather was unusually cold, our salary had not been regularly paid, and it did not meet our needs when it was. My husband was away traveling from one district to another much of the time. Our boys were well, but my little Ruth was ailing, and at best none of us were decently clothed. I patched and repatched, with spirits sinking to their lowest ebb. The water gave out in the well, and the wind blew through the cracks in the floor.
The people in the parish were kind, and generous, too, but the settlement was new, and each family was struggling for itself. Little by little, at the time I needed it most, my faith began to waver. Early in life I was taught to take God at His word, and I thought my lesson was well learned. I had lived upon the promises in dark times, until I knew, as David did, “who was my Fortress and Deliverer.” Now a daily prayer for forgiveness was all that I could offer. My husband’s overcoat was hardly thick enough for October, and he was often obliged to ride miles to attend some meeting or funeral. Many times our breakfast was Indian cake, and a cup of tea without sugar.
Christmas was coming; the children always expected their presents. I remember the ice was thick and smooth, and the boys were each craving a pair of skates. Ruth, in some unaccountable way, had taken a fancy that the dolls I had made were no longer suitable; she wanted—a nice large one, and insisted in praying for it. I knew it was impossible; but, oh! How I wanted to give each child its present. It seemed as if God had deserted us, but I did not tell my husband all this. He worked so earnestly and heartily, I supposed him to be as hopeful as ever. I kept the sitting-room cheerful with an open fire, and tried to serve our scanty meals as invitingly as I could.
The morning before Christmas, James was called to see a sick man. I put up a piece of bread for his lunch—it was the best I could do—wrapped my plaid shawl around his neck, and then tried to whisper a promise, as I often had, but the words died away upon my lips. I let him go without it. That was a dark, hopeless day. I coaxed the children to bed early, for I could not bear their talk. When Ruth went, I listened to her prayer; she asked for the last time most explicitly for her doll, and for skates for her brothers. Her bright face looked so lovely when she whispered tome: “You know I think they’ll be here early tomorrow morning, mamma,” that I thought I could move heaven and earth to save her from disappointment. I sat down alone, and gave way to the most bitter tears.
Before long James returned, chilled and exhausted. He drew off his boots; the thin stockings slipped off with them, and his feet were red with cold. “I wouldn’t treat a dog that way; let alone a faithful servant,” I said. Then, as I glanced up and saw the hard lines in his face and the look of despair, it flashed across me, James had let go, too. I brought him a cup of tea, feeling sick and dizzy at the very thought. He took my hand, and we sat for an hour without a word. I wanted to die and meet God, and tell Him his promise wasn’t true; my soul was so full of rebellious despair.
There came a sound of bells, a quick stop, and a loud knock at the door. James sprang up to open it. There stood Deacon White. “A box came for you by express just before dark. I brought it around as soon as I could get away. Reckoned it might be for Christmas; at any rate, they shall have it tonight.
Here is a turkey my wife asked me to fetch along, and these other things I believe belong to you. There was a basket of potatoes and a bag of flour. Talking all the time, he hurried in the box, and then with a hearty good-night rode away.
Still, without speaking, James found a chisel and opened the box. He drew out first a thick red blanket, and we saw that beneath was full of clothing. It seemed at that moment as if Christ fastened upon me a look of reproach. James sat down and covered his face with his hands. “I can’t touch them,” he exclaimed; “I haven’t been true, just when God was trying me to see if I could hold out.
Do you think I could not see how you were suffering? And I had no word of comfort to offer. I know now how to preach the awfulness of turning away from God.” “James,” I said, clinging to him, “don’t take it to heart like this; I am to blame, I ought to have helped you. We will ask Him together to forgive us.” “Wait a moment dear, I cannot talk now;” then he went into another room. I knelt down, and my heart broke.
In an instant all the dark-ness, all the stubbornness rolled away. Jesus came again and stood before me, but now with the loving word: “Daughter!” Sweet promises of tenderness and joy flooded my soul. I was so lost in praise and gratitude that I forgot everything else. I don’t know how long it was before James came back, but I knew he too had found peace. “Now, my dear wife,” said he, “let us thank God together;” and then he poured out words of praise; Bible words, for nothing else could express our thanksgiving.
It was eleven o’clock, the fire was low, and there was the great box, and nothing touched but the warm blanket we needed. We piled on some fresh logs, lighted two candles, and began to examine our treasures. We drew out an overcoat; I made James try it on; just the right size, and I danced around him; for all my light heartedness had returned. Then there was a cloak, and he insisted in seeing me in it. My spirits always infected him, and we both laughed like foolish children. There was a warm suit of clothes also, and three pair of woolen hose. There was a dress for me, and yards of flannel, a pair of arctic overshoes for each of us.
In mine was a slip of paper. I have it now, and mean to hand it down to my children. It was Jacob’s blessing to Asher: “Thy shoes shall be iron and brass, and as thy days so shall thy strength be.” In the gloves, evidently for James, the same dear hand had written: “I, the Lord thy God, will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee: Fear not, I will help thee.” It was a wonderful box, and packed with thoughtful care. There was a suit of clothes for each of the boys, and a little red gown for Ruth. There were mittens, scarfs, and hoods; down in the center, a box; we opened it, and there was a great wax doll.
I burst into tears again; James wept with me for joy. It was too much; and then we both exclaimed again, for close behind it came two pair of skates. There were books for us to read; some of them I had wished to see; stories for the children to read, aprons and underclothing, knots of ribbon, a gay little tidy; a lovely photograph, needles, buttons, and thread; actually a muff, and an envelope containing a ten-dollar gold piece. At last we cried over everything we took up.
It was past midnight, and we were faint and exhausted even with happiness. I made a cup of tea, cut a fresh loaf of bread, and James boiled some eggs. We drew up the table before the fire; how we enjoyed our supper! And then we sat talking over our life, and how sure a help God always proved.
You should have seen the children the next morning; the boys raised a shout at the sight of their skates. Ruth caught up her doll, and hugged it tightly without a word; then she went into her room and knelt by her bed. When she came back she whispered to me: “I knew it would be here, mamma, but I wanted to thank God just the same, you know.” “Look here, wife, see the difference.” We went to the window, and there were the boys out of the house already, and skating on the crust with all their might. My husband and I both tried to return thanks to the church in the East that sent us the box, and have tried to return thanks unto God every day since.
Hard times have come again and again, but we have trusted in Him; dreading nothing so much as a doubt of His protecting care. Over and over again we have proved that, “They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing.”
- Don’t think God is checking off the boxes to see if your prayer deserves answering
- The Bible has many little prayers, that God still answers
- Pray for even small things!
- One prayer that is never wrong, and always accepted if it is genuine, is asking God for forgiveness, and salvation
- I want to end on a simple note, so going back to Rosalind Goforth
- Thank you God that we know you are always listening
- Thank you that you have told us that you will not withhold from us any good thing
- Give us a trusting heart that will carry us across the gap of our prayers and your answers