Isa. 65:24

See front page of TLBC website for outline of todays sermon " The Sentries Bail Out" here

This 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 drug stores 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 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 he 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 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 veranda, 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
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?'

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)