Carvosso, noted for the earnestness and faith of his prayers, tells as follows of the conversion of his children:
“I had always prayed for my children, but now I grasped the promise, with the hand of faith, and retired daily at special seasons to put the Lord to His word. I said nothing of what I felt or did, to any one but the Searcher of hearts, with whom I wrestled in an agony of prayer.”
About two weeks after he was called from his work, to pray with his daughter, who became a seeker of Christ. His oldest son was converted at the same time.
Regarding his younger son he says: “I laid hold, by faith, on the promise which I had while pleading for my other children. One day while I was wrestling with God, in mighty prayer for him, these words were applied with power to my mind: “There shall not a hoof be left behind.” Soon after he yielded, and obtained the knowledge of salvation by the remission of sins.
“A dull and careless way of praying for our friends will avail nothing. It may conceal hypocrisy, or strengthen deception concerning our own piety, but it will not move God nor convert a single soul. Our friends know that we are not in earnest, and care little for it. But, let us take hold of the matter in a spirit corresponding to the magnitude of the object to be secured, and there will be a movement!” — Prevailing Prayer, by Wigle.
A mother, living not very far from the post-office in this city, tired with watching over a sick baby, came down stairs for a moment the other day for a few second’s rest. She heard the voice of her little four-year old girl in the hall by herself, and, curious to know to whom she was talking, stopped a moment at the half-open door.
She saw that the little thing had pulled a chair in front of the telephone, and stood upon it, with the piece against the side of her head. The earnestness of the child showed that she was in no playful mood, and this was the conversation the mother heard, while the tears stood thick in her eyes; the little one carrying on both sides, as if she were repeating the answers
“Hello.” “Well, who’s there?” “Is God there? “Is Jesus there?” “Yes.” “Tell Jesus I want to speak to him.” “Well?” “Is that you, Jesus?” “Yes. What is it? “Our baby is sick, and want you to let it get well.” “Won’t you now?” No answer, and statement and question again repeated, finally answered by a “Yes.”The little one put the ear-piece back on its hook, clambered down from the chair, and with a radiant face went for mother, who caught her in bet arms.The baby, whose life had been despaired of, began to mend that day, and got well. –Elmira Free Press.
With a deep sense of gratitude to my Heavenly Father for my restoration to health, I write this testimony. I will begin with extracts from a statement of my condition at the time of my restoration, written by the attending physician thinking it will be more satisfactory than one of my own.
“Mrs. Claghorn came to me for treatment, first on June 6, 1885, then afterwards during August, 1885, and almost continuously thereafter, until January 26, 1886 — the day of her sudden and marvelous restoration to health. Her symptoms were frequent chills, pains in the bones, pains in the back, inability to sleep, and at times terrible paroxysms of tonic and clonic spasms, strongly marked opisthotones, cramping of limbs, coldness of extremities, intense pain at the base of the brain, intolerance of light, sometimes complete unconsciousness; the paroxysms being frequently followed by partial paralysis of the right side. She also suffered from a large cellulitis tumor. At times the case responded readily to the treatment given; at other times, she grew rapidly worse for several days; the attack culminating in a paroxysm, followed by more or less paralysis. Such an attack occurred from the 21st to the 25th of January, 1886, although not so severe as some she had had. The morning of the 26th, she was unable to turn herself in bed, and had not stood upon her feet for five months. The details of her sudden restoration, which occurred that afternoon, she can best give in her own language. She rode about a mile the next evening, in a cutter, to prayer-meeting, walked down the aisle like a girl of eighteen, and from a condition of emaciation, rapidly gained in flesh and appearance. I made an examination March 5, 1886, and found the cellulitis tumor gone. More than a year has now passed away, and she is and has been apparently in the most perfect health. There has been no recurrence of her sufferings during the past year.
Respectfully, A.M. HUTCHINSON, M. D., Waseca, Minn.
For two weeks before my restoration I was unable to turn myself in bed, or to feed myself. All that time my right side was helpless, and I was rapidly sinking. On the 25th of January, I was taken with convulsions, though not so severe as on some previous occasions.
My physician was with me until midnight, when I grew easier. On the morning of the 26th, I felt better, until about seven o’clock, when I commenced to feel much worse. I suffered intensely, and could feel the terrible convulsions coming back. While I was in such pain, my husband received some statements of “faith-cure,” which an unknown friend had sent, and he commenced reading one; saying it might make the time pass more rapidly if I could bear the reading. I was not at all interested at first, for I knew nothing of such things; I had heard of a few cases, but they were all so far away, I set them aside as something I could not understand. But this was an account of a lady whose disease was just enough like mine to hold my attention, and he read it to the close. I was too ill to think much, but I could see it was no made up story, and wondered if God would really do such things.
At 12:40 P.M. my husband went out, leaving me in the care of an attendant, who was in an adjoining room. I began to wonder if it were possible the Lord could have healing for me. I had not, in all my sickness, asked Him for health. But now I seemed to be led to make the request: “Lord, if thou hast this healing for me, give it to me now and instantly a voice said: “In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, arise and walk!” and I was thrilled through and through with sensations impossible to describe. While I was wondering, the command was repeated in the same words. But I did not feel returning strength, and the terrible pain still remained. So I said aloud: “But I haven’t the strength, Lord; give me the strength, and I will get up;” and again the same voice said: “In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, arise and walk ” Then I made an effort to arise; it was more a mental effort than anything else; but I rose like a feather, and stood upon my feet. All pain ceased the first moment for months. It was just one o’clock. I commenced to say: “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief,” and prayed it continually. Then I sat down on the side of the bed, and raising my arms above my head, used the paralyzed side freely.
A swelling the size of an egg was gone, and everything inside of me seemed to be changing position, and recreating sensations impossible to describe were felt all through me.
Then I got up and walked a few steps, and turned and looked at the bed, and the medicine beside it, and I commenced to sink to the floor. But I asked for more strength, and received it, and went on around the bed to the center of the room, when I thought I would have my clothes brought, and dress. But when I would have called the nurse, the impression was received (not in an audible voice): “It is enough, you have seen the power of God, go back to bed;” and I obeyed.
Upon returning to bed, I re-consecrated myself to God, and begged Him to complete His will in me; and if He could better use me as a sufferer, to let me suffer, but only glorify Himself in me; and I received the assurance that He would. Soon after the nurse brought me some food. I surprised her very much by feeding myself, and my stomach, which had previously rejected all food, retained it now with ease.
Now my husband came in, looking so disconsolate, and prepared to find me much worse than when he left me. I need not attempt to tell of his joy and surprise upon hearing what God had done for me in his absence; you can better imagine it. When he had returned thanks, I requested him to go for my physician.
Doctor was not in town, and I did not see him until evening. His first words upon entering my room were: “Glory to God!” and he returned thanks to God for His marvelous work, as only a thoroughly consecrated Christian could; not reserving a particle of credit for the cure, but giving all glory and honor to God. He forbade all medicine. That night I arose and knelt at the bedside in prayer. I slept that night, as I have every night since, like a babe. I never had such refreshing sleep. I had had no natural sleep during my sickness.
The next morning I arose and dressed, unassisted, and walked out to breakfast; ate heartily, and in the evening I rode nearly a mile to our weekly prayer-meeting, and told how great things the Lord had done for me. My strength returned gradually. For days I could not stand upon my feet without first asking for strength; and if I were standing, and would for an instant take my mind off Christ, I would commence to sink to the floor. All functions were naturally resumed without any pain whatever.
Tumors and all inflammation were all dispelled, and I was a well woman. Several times I had severe paroxysms of pain, but I would go right to God, and he would remove them at once.
My right side was much shrunken, and shorter than the other. When I stood upon my left foot, the toes of my right foot touched the floor. That, however, stretched out gradually as I used my limbs. It is now more than a year since I was restored. I have done all my work since the first of June. I ask for strength for a day at a time, and God helps me over all the hard places.
I have not had a sick day since my restoration. I have had severe colds several times, but they have been removed by resorting to my new found Physician; and I have not taken a drop of medicine since the 26th of January, 1886, neither have I done anything for myself in a medicinal way. God has done it all.
Satan has tried many times to tempt me, but the Sword of the Spirit, when presented, proves too much for him. I have written this for the glory of God, and trust He will bless it. — Mrs. Alice B. Claghorn, in Michigan Holiness Record.
In the fall of 1885, our oldest boy, then two and one-half years old, was taken very ill. Diphtheria had for some time been raging to a considerable extent in the city of Grand Rapids, where we then resided. But a short time before, friends, who had just buried a little daughter, who had died of that disease, had visited at our home. Our little Rolin’s throat was badly cankered, he could no longer lie down without strangling; and we felt that by nothing but the power and mercy of God, could he be spared to us. With a sad, aching heart, I laid away his little playthings, thinking I might never see him use them again; and as I looked over to the cemetery on the hill beyond us, a great yearning cry of anguish went up from my soul, as I thought that, in all human probability, I might be called within a few days, to there, lay away the form of my darling.
More from a sense of regard for the feelings and convictions of others, than because of any confidence in the power of human remedies to meet the demands of the case, husband sent for a physician. As the one sent for was not in his office; the friend who went for him brought another, prominent for skill and experience. After careful examination, he pronounced the child dangerously ill of diphtheria, and said to the friend who brought him: “They do not realize how sick that child is; whatever is done for him must be done quickly.” He would leave no medicine, unless we gave him entire charge of the case, and this we did not feel ready to do.
After his departure, husband said to me: “If you wish me to send for the other physician, I will do so; but for myself, I can as easily exercise faith in God to heal Rolin as to trust Him for means to pay a doctor.”
Then, while I sat with Rolin in my arms, he knelt and prayed. As he plead with God that, if it were according to His will and for His glory, He would spare and heal the child He had given us, I knew he was wonderfully helped of the Spirit.
When he arose he told me that he had the positive assurance that his prayer was heard, and that Rolin would recover.
For hours previous, the sick one had been suffering greatly; but he immediately appeared very much better, and soon dropped into a sweet sleep. We laid him down among the pillows, and soon after retired, and that night we all slept well. The next morning, Rolin was up, dressed, and playing as usual about the house, and there was no more sign of diphtheria in his case.
In a short time a sister in the Lord, who had been with the previous afternoon, but who left at about the time we sent for the physician, and who knew nothing of what had transpired in her absence, came to the door. As I met her she said: “I have good news for you. Rolin is going to get well.” And upon careful inquiry we found that at very nearly, if not exactly, the same time that husband said to me that God had assured him that Rolin would recover, this sister, then a mile and a half away, had testified the very same thing to those that were with her.
A few weeks later, my husband was just as miraculously healed of the same disease, and the very next day rode over twenty miles in a cutter; and though it was a very cold, raw, windy November day, his throat did not trouble him in the least.
“I came home one night very late,” said Matthew Hale Smith, in his Marvels of Prayer, “and had gone to bed to seek needed rest. The friend with whom I boarded awoke me out of my first refreshing sleep, and informed me that a little girl wanted to see me. I turned over in bed, and said: “‘I am very tired, tell her to come in the morning, and I will see her.’ “My friend soon returned and said:
“‘I think you had better get up. The girl is a poor little suffering thing. She is thinly clad, is without bonnet or shoes She has seated herself on the door-step, and says she must see you, and will wait till you get up.’ I dressed myself, and opening the outside door I saw one of the most forlorn looking little girls I ever beheld. Want, sorrow, suffering, neglect, seemed to struggle for the mastery. She looked up to my face, and said: “‘Are you the man that preached last night, and said that Christ could save to the uttermost?’ ‘Yes.’ “‘Well, I was there, and I want you to come right, down to my house, and try to save my poor father.’ “‘What’s the matter with your father?’ “‘He’s a very good father when he don’t drink. He’s out of work, and he drinks awfully.
He’s almost killed my poor mother; but if Jesus can save to the uttermost, He can save him. And I want you to come right to our house now.’ “I took my hat and followed my little guide, who trotted on before, halting as she turned the corners to see that I was coming. Oh, what a miserable den her home was! A low, dark, underground room, the floor all slush and mud-not a chair, table, or bed to be seen. . A bittercold night, and not a spark of fire on the hob, and the room not only cold, but dark. In the corner, on a little dirty straw, lay a woman. Her head was bound up, and she was moaning as if in agony. As we darkened the doorway a feeble voice said: ‘O my child! My child! Why have you brought a stranger into this horrible place?’ Her story was a sad one, but soon told. Her husband, out of work, maddened with drink, and made desperate, had stabbed her because she did not provide him with a supper, that was not in the house.
He was then upstairs, and she was expecting every moment that he would come down and complete the bloody work he had begun. While the conversation was going on the fiend made his appearance. A fiend he looked. He brandished the knife, still wet with the blood of his wife. “The missionary, like the man among the tombs, had himself belonged to the desperate classes. He was converted at the mouth of a coal pit. He knew the disease and the remedy-knew how to handle a man on the borders of delirium tremens. “Subdued by the tender tones, the madman calmed down, and took a seat on a box. But the talk was interrupted by the little girl, who approached the missionary, and said: “‘Don’t talk to father; it won’t do any good. If talking would have saved him, he would have been saved long ago.
Mother has talked to him so much and so good. You must ask Jesus, who saves to the uttermost, to save my poor father.’ “Rebuked by the faith of the little girl, the missionary and the miserable sinner knelt down together. He prayed as he never had prayed before; he entreated and interceded, in tones so tender and fervent, that it melted the desperate man, who cried for mercy. And mercy came. He bowed in penitence before the Lord, and lay down that night on his pallet of straw a pardoned soul.
“Relief came to that dwelling. The wife was lifted from her dirty couch, and her home was made comfortable. On Sunday, the reformed man took the hand of his little girl and entered the infant class, to learn something about the Savior ‘who saves to the uttermost.’ He entered upon a new life. His reform was thorough. He found good employment, for when sober he was an excellent workman; and next to his Savior, he blesses God for the faith of his little girl, who believed in a Savior able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him.”
This is my personal collection of thoughts and writings, mainly from much smarter people than I, which challenge me in my discipleship walk. Don't rush by these thoughts, but ponder them.
Milo 