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Friday, October 11, 2024

The Key To Revival

Hello everyone.  Praise the Lord!

Here is part of a book called God's Generals (The Revivalists), Roberts Liardon.

Text:  Psalm 51.


THE KEY TO REVIVAL.

Charles Finney felt that prayer played a major part in the work of the revival. He wrote that “the key which unlocked the Heavens in this revival was the prayer of [Abel] Clary, Father Nash, and other unnamed folk who laid themselves prostrate before God’s throne and besought Him for a divine outpouring.” 

When Charles heard that Clary was in town, he remarked, “I have not seen him at any of our meetings.” The man who told him of Clary’s attendance responded, “No...he cannot go to meetings, he says. He prays nearly all the time, day and night, and in such an agony of mind that I do not know what to make of it. Sometimes he cannot even stand on his knees, but will lie prostrate on the floor, and groan and pray in a manner that quite astounds me.” Charles replied, “I understand it; please keep still. It will all come out right; he will surely prevail.”


He knew what this spirit of prayer was doing and he knew better than to do anything to interfere with it. 
Of this kind of fervent prayer, Charles said, I have never seen a person sweat blood, but I do know a person who prayed until his nose bled. And people have prayed until drenched with sweat, even in the coldest winter. Some have prayed for hours until their strength was exhausted from the labor of their minds. Such prayers reached out and took hold of God.

William James Roop

























Friday, October 4, 2024

Spiritual Trust

Hello everyone.  Praise the Lord!

Here is a funny story about trust from an unknown author.

Proverbs 3:5-6; Psalm 9:10.


 The story is told of the pioneer days in our country. A man was making his way west when he came to the Missouri River. It was winter and the ice covered the river from bank to bank. But how could the man be sure it would hold his weight? He knew people often drowned in that river when the ice broke. Yet he had to cross. 

He walked out a little way, then gripped with fear he crawled on his hands and knees. He looked back and saw how far the bank was now behind him and knew he would drown if the ice broke and the frigid water swallowed him up. To spread his weight even more, he lay out flat on his belly and slowly drew himself sliding across the river a few inches at time. 

All of a sudden from behind him he heard whistling. He whipped his head around and there saw a big man, a farmer, walking across the ice leading a team of horses drawing a heavy wooden sleigh full of hay. He was smiling and whistling and tipped his hat. The timid man stood and brushed off the ice crystals and managed a sheepish smile. That old farmer had crossed the ice many times and knew it could be trusted.


William James Roop

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