by Cheri Fuller
The missionary rose and prepared to leave the campsite where he had spent the
night en route to the city for medical supplies. He extinguished his small
campfire, pulled on his canvas backpack, and hopped on his motorcycle to
continue his ride through the African jungle. Every two weeks he made this
two‐day journey to collect money from a bank and purchase medicine and supplies
for the small field hospital where he served. When he completed those errands,
he hopped on his bike again for the two‐day return trip.
When the missionary arrived in the city, he collected his money and medical
supplies and was just about to leave for home when he saw two men fighting in
the street. Since one of the men was seriously injured, the missionary stopped,
treated him for his injuries, and shared the love of Christ with him. Then the
missionary began his two‐day trek home, stopping in the jungle again to camp
overnight.
Two weeks later, as was his custom, the missionary again made the journey to
the city. As he ran his various errands, a young man approached him—the same man
the missionary had ministered to during his previous trip. “I knew you carried
money and medicine with you,” the man said, “so my friends and I followed you to
your campsite in the jungle after you helped me in the street. We planned to
kill you and take all the money and drugs. But just as we were about to move in
and attack you, we saw twenty‐six armed guards surround and protect you.”
“You must be mistaken,” said the missionary. “I was all alone when I spent
the night in the jungle. There were no guards or anyone else with me.”
“But sir, I wasn’t the only one who saw the guards. My five companions saw
them, too. We counted them! There were twenty‐six bodyguards, too many for us to
handle. Their presence stopped us from killing you.”
Months later, the missionary related this story to the congregation gathered
at his home church in Michigan. As he spoke, one of the men listening stood up
and interrupted him to ask the exact day the incident in the jungle had
occurred. When the missionary identified the specific month and day of the week,
the man told him “the rest of the story.”
“On the exact night of your incident in Africa, it was morning here in
Michigan, and I was on the golf course. I was about to putt when I felt a strong
urge to pray for you. The urge was so strong that I left the golf course and
called some men of our church right here in this sanctuary to join me in praying
for you. Would all you men who prayed with me that day stand up?”
The missionary wasn’t concerned with who the men were; he was too busy
counting them, one by one. Finally he reached the last one. There were
twenty‐six men—the exact number of “armed guards” the thwarted attacker had
seen.
Looking ahead…
Do you ever find yourself so caught up in the busyness of life that you
forget about or postpone a time of prayer? I’m sure the missionary in the story
above is one man who was grateful his congregation took seriously the urge to
pray!
My father, James Dobson Sr., also took his prayer life seriously. He was
known to spend hours at a time on his knees in conversation with the Lord. At
Dad’s request, the words “He Prayed” are written on the footstone of his grave.
Through his example, and through God’s response, I learned firsthand the power
and privilege of prayer. In the week to come let’s take a closer look at this
awesome opportunity.
-James C Dobson
From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James
& Shirley Dobson
Copyright © 2000 by James Dobson, Inc. All rights
reserved.
“Protected by Prayer” by Cheri Fuller. Taken from When Families Pray by
Cheri Fuller. © 1999. Used by permission of Multnomah Publishers, Inc.
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