The Prophetic Ministry

Dear Oaks,

The message below was sent to me by Priscah and with her permission I am
using it as my devotional this week. I do hope it inspires you to ask and
indeed to listen for God’s voice. Imagine being told to send a bottle to
the Equator!

In His love,

Mark

This beautiful story was written by a doctor who worked in South 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)