The value of a praying mother by Isabel C. Byrum
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Isabel C. Byrum >> The value of a praying mother
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6 THE VALUE OF A PRAYING MOTHER
BY ISABEL C. BYRUM
GOSPEL TRUMPET COMPANY
First Printing 1911
PREFACE.
This book has a purpose: it is sent forth as precious seed, with the
prayer that it will fall into "good soil" in many hearts and bring forth
an hundredfold.
All parents with natural affection desire the best things for their
children. Such fathers and mothers have high hopes that from their home
will go forth noble men and women--yes, even heroes. Many fail to
realize the attainment of this ideal in their children, because of a
lack of the knowledge necessary to bring about the desired development
in the child-life.
The following pages were written with the fervent hope that they would,
at least in some measure, be a help in developing the young lives
entrusted to your care. If your harvest-time is past; if your children
have grown up and have left the old home, you may be able to help some
one who still has little ones to train.
One object in relating actual experiences was that the reader might be
guided in the application of those principles of child-training which,
if merely stated in the abstract, might be hard to understand and
difficult of application. The principles herein stated are not mere
theories, but they have the commendation of having stood the test of
use. Two other objects of this simple story of home life are that the
thoughtful mother may get a view of the effects of certain extreme
environments on the child-life and, by observing the substantial results
accomplished by a praying mother, she may discover the secret of
success.
The incidents of this little home story are all true, even to minute
details, as far as memory serves one of the actors in this drama of home
life after the lapse of many years; but as most of the principal
characters are still living, the correct names have, for the most part,
been withheld. Should one of your children ask, "Mama, who was Bessie
Worthington?" you can truthfully answer, "She was a little girl who
lived in Michigan; and she and her papa and mama are still living."
If, by reading this little book, any mother shall see wherein she can
improve upon her past teaching, and thus be able to do more for the
spiritual and moral well-being of her children, the writer will feel
amply rewarded. May the blessing of God attend it as it goes forth.
Yours in Him,
Isabel C. Byrum.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Two Scenes
CHAPTER II.
A Praying Mother
CHAPTER III.
Early Training
CHAPTER IV.
God's Care
CHAPTER V.
Consecration
CHAPTER VI.
Conscience
CHAPTER VII.
A Downward Step
CHAPTER VIII.
A Wise Decision
CHAPTER IX.
Self-Control
CHAPTER X.
Parental Control
CHAPTER XI.
Christian Experience
CHAPTER XII.
The Beautiful Secret
CHAPTER XIII.
Blessing and Trial
CHAPTER XIV.
The Surprise Party
CHAPTER XV.
Leroy's Healing
CHAPTER XVI.
Explaining the Divine Life
CHAPTER XVII.
Temptations
CHAPTER XVIII.
Answers to Prayer
CHAPTER XIX.
Lost in the Woods
CHAPTER XX.
Novel-Reading
CHAPTER XXI.
Glad Tidings
CHAPTER XXII.
The Meetings
CHAPTER XXIII.
Bessie Sees Her Duty
CHAPTER XXIV.
Reverie
CHAPTER XXV.
A Plea to Mothers
CHAPTER XXVI.
Parental Duty
CHAPTER XXVII.
Useful Hints
THE VALUE OF A PRAYING MOTHER
CHAPTER I.
TWO SCENES.
How delightful to step into the home where God is counselor of both
parent and child! How blessed the companionship in such a home! There
God counsels in sweet, tender tones. He teaches his will and gives the
needed wisdom. God is man's truest and best teacher. James says, "If any
of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally
... and it shall be given him." Be the home ever so beautiful, if it is
not a house of prayer, it is not a place of true happiness. Parents
should often commune with the Lord; especially the mother, with her many
cares and perplexities, if she would do justice to the little ones
entrusted to her care.
A beautiful picture now comes to my mind--a picture of an ideal mother
of olden time. She dwelt in Ramah of Palestine. Her lonely home nestled
among the lonely hills. She loved to commune with the Lord, for deep in
her bosom she carried a sorrow that only he could help her to bear. Her
home lacked that sweet sunlight which innocent childhood brings. She
longed and prayed for a little life to guide and direct in the ways of
the Lord.
Once every year she went with her husband to Shiloh, where sacrifices
were offered, and there publicly worshiped the Lord. When at the house
of the Lord one day, she prayed long and earnestly that God would grant
the desire of her heart. "O Lord of hosts," she prayed, "if thou wilt
indeed look on the affliction of thine handmaid, and remember me, and
not forget thine handmaid, but wilt give unto thine handmaid a man
child, then I will give him unto the Lord all the days of his life, and
there shall no razor come upon his head."
A scene like this must have been rare even to the priest of God; for he
mistook this sad woman for one drunken with wine. She begged him not to
look upon her as such. When the man of God saw by her modest, earnest
words that she was not drunken as he had supposed, he changed his
reproof into a blessing. "Go in peace," he said, "and the God of Israel
grant thy petition that thou hast asked of him." With perfect confidence
that God had heard and answered prayer, the woman arose and returned
with her husband to their home in Ramah.
The next year she did not go up to Shiloh; for God had granted her
petition and had given her a little son. Her husband was willing for her
to remain at home, but he cautioned her not to forget her promise to the
Lord. He feared, perhaps, that the mother might become so attached to
her child that she would be unwilling to part with him as she had
promised. His warning was unnecessary.
As soon as Samuel (for this is what the mother named her son) was old
enough to be useful, she took him to the house of God and presented him
to the Lord. It must have sounded to the aged priest (who soon would
have to cease his work upon earth) like a voice from heaven, when the
happy mother, pointing to her child, said: "For this child I prayed; and
the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of him: therefore also
I have lent him to the Lord; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to
the Lord."
Again the mother prays; this time not in sorrow, but from a heart filled
with thanksgiving. She feels no regret because of her vow. Her child
became a great blessing to many people, and the Lord gave her other sons
and daughters to cheer her heart.
By reading the story we find that "the child Samuel grew and was in
favor both with the Lord and also with men." Why was this? In answer to
his devoted mother's prayer, the Holy Spirit hovered over that child,
shielding him from the cruel darts and arrows of the enemy. He had been
taught the ways of the Lord from his cradle and his life was fully
consecrated to God.
A different scene comes before me now--a scene that brings a shudder.
Upon a ship sailing along the shores of France were a man and his wife
on their way to join a band of villainous people in India. Being on a
secret mission, they traveled slowly and carefully. It was a tedious and
dangerous journey. One stormy day, on the Bay of Biscay, a child was
born to them.
No loving welcome from the lips of a prayerful parent awaited this poor
little innocent child; instead, curses were his portion, and, by the
order of his mother, he was cast aside in a pile of rubbish to die. By
chance the father passed that way and, finding his child's poor little
perishing form, picked it up, took it to his wife, and commanded her to
see that it was cared for.
As the child grew and developed in this atmosphere of sin and
degradation, is it strange that he partook of his parents' nature and
developed even worse habits than they? Unless the proper home influence
is thrown around a child, he can not help suffering from the inherited
sins of his parents.
When this child became a man, he knew nothing of virtue and honesty.
His life was enveloped in a shroud of darkest crimes. Leaving India, he
went to Europe and from there sailed to America. Each year found him
better acquainted with court proceedings and prison walls. It was a
common thing for him to break into a man's house and steal every
valuable that he could find.
I recently met this man and heard from his own lips the dark story of
his life. As he was relating an account of a desperate burglary, I asked
him what he would have done if the man of the house had awakened.
"Please do not ask me." he answered. "I was always armed, and a man's
life was no more to me than a dog's. There are scenes that I can not, I
dare not, recall, for I am a changed man now."
Thank God, he is a changed man. He had not been too vile for God to
find. Jesus had cleansed his heart from all desire to do evil. Having
confessed his crimes and given himself up to be punished, he had been
sent to prison, but because of good behavior had been soon pardoned. He
is now spending his life among the lower class, whom he understands so
well and pities so much, trying to show them the way of salvation.
Note the atmosphere that surrounded the cradle of each of the babes of
whom we have been speaking. In the first home we find prayer, love,
hope, and tenderness; in the last, sin, hatred, crime, and villainy. Oh
that mothers everywhere would take warning! If only these two pictures
could be framed and hung in the recesses of every mother's heart where
they might teach their silent lesson! If only mothers might see how
powerful for good or evil is their influence; how the affections and the
mental powers may be moulded by prayer and maternal love, and how the
groundwork for the future of the child may be laid in its early
training!
A sensible mother has a charm and wields an influence that takes a fast
hold on the hearts of those who are dear to her. The kindly sympathy of
youth, the deep affection of manhood, can be traced to influences that
began at mother's knee.
What true, prayerful mother does not feel as her child closely nestles
to her bosom that she is invested with a divine, mysterious power, an
influence which she can not understand? Then it is that she sees her
imperfections and longs for wisdom to know how to guide her child. God
alone can supply that understanding. She is her child's book of wisdom,
love, and, beauty, but she should be of God's writing.
CHAPTER II.
A PRAYING MOTHER.
Still another mother comes before my mind--an earnest, zealous, pious
mother, who fashioned her life and example continually by God's Word and
endeavored daily to teach her children the deep truths of salvation in
language so simple that they could understand, to seek out the causes of
their failures and discouragements, and to give them timely advice and
instruction.
As I trace a few of her experiences, which are all true incidents, I
trust they may sink into some perplexed mother's heart and enable her to
wield the instruments of love and prayer about her darlings and to be
more able to guide their tender hearts in the right course.
Mrs. Worthington lived in the great city of Chicago, in a small cottage
on Portland Avenue near Thirty-first Street. Nothing about the dwelling
was elaborate; everything was simple, but very neat. Pretty vines
trailed gracefully over the porch and windows, and a few flower beds
filled up the dull nooks and corners. In front of the house was a grassy
lawn enclosed by a picket fence. Here the children could play apart from
the rough waifs that thronged the street. Within the cottage the same
quiet taste was in evidence.
Every day in her cozy sitting-room Mrs. Worthington talked with her
little girls, Bessie and Louise. In times of trouble and perplexity she
bowed with them in prayer. How much the children enjoyed their mother's
comradeship and counsel! The mother realized the importance of these
early impressions made on the child's mind. She had promised God to do
all in her power to train her children for heaven. She had commenced
early, even from the time she had first looked into the depths of their
innocent eyes.
She had taught them that when any trouble arose between them, they were
to kneel in prayer and ask God to help the one who had done wrong. Once
she heard Bessie say, "Louise, I have prayed for you three times, and I
believe I shall have to pray for you again." Louise was not a bad child;
she had as sweet and happy a disposition as Bessie; but, as with all
small children, little difficulties arose between them.
Wishing to know what her two little girls would do on such an occasion,
she watched them. Bessie quietly took her little sister's hand, lead her
aside, and knelt with her in prayer. Then with all earnestness she
prayed, "O Lord, help Louise to to be good, for Jesus' sake. Amen." The
prayer, though short, was effectual; for both went back to their play
with happy faces, and they had no more trouble that day.
CHAPTER III.
EARLY TRAINING.
As the daily teaching continued, Mrs. Worthington taught her children
many helpful lessons. She told them of the great necessity of a Savior
and of his mission to humanity. She taught them how God looked upon
disobedience, and always illustrated her talks with interesting Bible
stories and their every-day experiences. In this way she taught them not
only the evil effects of wrong-doing but also the sure reward of
right-doing.
One summer, while the family was spending their vacation in Michigan at
the pretty country home of an aunt, something happened that helped the
children to apprehend their mother's meaning. This incident, although in
some measure painful to Mrs. Worthington, impressed the lesson upon
their young minds almost better than anything else could have.
The house was situated upon a hill that sloped gradually down to the
shore of a lake. In many ways this lake was very attractive, especially
to the two little girls, who were then at the ages of two and four
years. Mrs. Worthington carefully warned the children of the danger of
playing near the lake shore; but, not realizing the greatness of their
temptation, she trusted them too far. Time after time they made their
way down to the water's edge. Something must be done; but what?
One morning Mr. Worthington noticed his little daughters standing in
front of the house. Although he could not hear their words, he clearly
perceived that they were talking about a trip to the forbidden lake.
They hesitated some time, but at last walked slowly down the hillside to
the lake. Again they hesitated. Finally descending the steps of the
boat-house, they stepped into the sparkling water. How dainty the
ripples about their feet, and how clear the water!
"Surely there can be no harm or danger," thought Bessie; but she
remembered the oft-repeated warnings of her parents and aunt. The
shells lost their beauty when she remembered hearing her father say that
bears sometimes travel up and down the shores. What if a bear should
some that morning? She gave a quick, searching glance among the trees,
but, seeing nothing, she tried to forget about bears. She might have
been able to forget about them, but she could not forget that she was
disobedient. Her conscience would not let her; the more she tried to
forget, the louder it talked. She was just about to take her little
sister back to the house, when she heard a rustling among the branches
of a tall tree directly above the path over which she must pass. The
next moment she thought she heard a low growl. "O Louise," she cried, "I
do believe that is the bear papa told us about." The tree then began to
sway from side to side and they heard another growl, louder than the
first. Seizing her little sister's hand, Bessie hastened to help her out
of the water. By this time both were thoroughly frightened; for while
visiting one of the parks in Chicago once, they had seen a bear hug his
keeper until he could not stand. Bessie remembered the incident and
tried to help Louise to hurry; but when the tree shook again, this time
just above her, she screamed wildly and ran a few steps alone. When she
got past the danger-point her reason returned, and, looking back, she
saw her sister's great danger, as she stood just beneath the fatal tree.
Rushing back, she almost carried Louise (while the growling continued),
and they were soon up the hill. In the house they told of their strange
experience, the substance of the story being, "The bear; The bear!"
Mr. Worthington soon joined the excited circle and secretly explained to
his wife that he had been the supposed bear and that he had taken this
course to teach the children a lesson. His plan was successful, for
after that the children did not care to go to the lake alone.
Mrs. Worthington, however, was very sad because her children had been
deceived. Unlike her husband, who was not a Christian, she believed in
keeping the confidence of her children and in praying with them when
they were disobedient. She decided to be more prompt and watchful in the
future and to shield them from temptation as much as possible.
She improved the opportunity for some wholesome instruction. From the
stories of Jonah and King Saul she brought forth some excellent lessons
on disobedience. She told the children that, although they might think
when tempted to disobey that nobody saw them, yet there was one whose
eye was ever beholding their deeds, whether good or bad. Then she knelt
in prayer with her children, praying with a full heart to that God who
is everywhere present and from whom all our strength must come, that he
would teach her how to guide the precious souls entrusted to her care.
CHAPTER IV.
GOD'S CARE.
Considering this mother's deep piety, do you think it strange that she
saw God's hand in everything that befell her, and ascribed praise to him
for it all?
After the return of the family to their home in Chicago the father
became very ill. His sickness was so severe and so long continued that
poverty began to threaten them. Mr. Worthington could not take the
resigned view of their circumstances that his wife took, but often gave
way to complaining. But Mrs. Worthington thanked God that things were no
worse and ever encouraged her husband with the promises that God would
provide.
At last Christmas morning came and found them in extreme poverty. Mr.
Worthington still weak from his illness, but able to go around a little,
came in from his morning walk very gloomy and feeling that his friends
were very few. "This is the saddest Christmas I have ever known," he
said to Mrs. Worthington. "It is almost more than I can bear to know
that I have nothing to give the children today, and barely enough in the
house to eat. I did not realize it so keenly until I saw an old man
trudging along Thirty-first Street with a large pack upon his back. That
man was surely going to surprise some of his friends. How much we need a
friend like that!" "Never mind," said Mrs. Worthington softly; "God has
promised to be a friend in time of need, and I believe he will care for
us today."
As she finished speaking, a rap was heard at the door. Mr. Worthington
arose slowly, wondering who could be their early caller. When he opened
the door, he was greatly surprised to see the aged man with the pack and
to find him to be his own father. Mr. Worthington had entered the house
too soon to see his father turn the corner and enter the yard.
As the large burden was laid upon the floor and unpacked, there seemed
to be no end to the good things. A turkey, cake, pies, in fact, all that
was needful for a generous Christmas dinner, as well as a gift for each
one. It was a very thankful family that gathered around the table that
day.
CHAPTER V.
CONSECRATION.
In regard to her children, Mrs. Worthington had passed through a deep
consecration. She fully realized that they were only lent her by the
Lord, entrusted to her care to be trained for usefulness in his service,
and she was determined to do all in her power to prepare them as the
Lord intended. In all sincerity, she had placed her children upon the
altar of consecration, promising God never to let her will interfere
with his designs concerning them.
I do not think a child of God ever makes a consecration that is not
tested in some form or other. This mother's consecration was tested.
A wealthy aunt, having lost all her children and being very lonely,
thought to fill the vacancy in her heart and home by adopting a little
child. After several vain attempts to find a suitable child, she sought
the home of her niece, Mrs. Worthington. She came with many misgivings.
When she made her errand known, her niece said: "Auntie, my children are
no longer mine; I have given them to the Lord, and whatever is his will
concerning them shall be mine. You will have to obtain my husband's
consent." Thus far Aunt A. was delighted with her success, and she
eagerly sought the father. She tried to point out to Mrs. Worthington,
who was heartbroken at the prospect of losing her child, how abundantly
able she (the aunt) was to provide for the child and spoke of the
extreme poverty of the Worthington home. The mother knew all this, but
she knew too that God's Spirit does not always rule in wealthy homes.
Would she do right to let her child slip from under her parental care?
Many thoughts of this nature surged through her brain, and many
temptations to say no came to her; but instead of giving a decisive
answer she sought counsel from the all-wise Counselor. While in prayer
she thought of faithful Abraham's trial regarding Isaac, and she felt
that God was just as able to carry her through temptation or test, if
she submitted all to his will.
Mr. Worthington gave his consent for one of the children to go for a
visit. The aunt having chosen Bessie, hasty preparations were made for
their departure. As the mother kissed her curly-haired little girl
good-by, her heart seemed bursting with sorrow. She tried to control her
feelings, but only God knew the wound that her aunt's parting words
made. "Use your influence in my behalf, Niece, with your husband, in
case we want to keep Bessie," she had said, and then the great train
moved slowly from the station. Abraham was all the mother could think of
on her return home. Oh! would God give her back her child?
Letter after letter came, each telling how fond the aunt and her husband
were of Bessie and how happy she was in her new home, but not a word
about her return. Four, five, six weeks passed. Then one day a letter
came stating that they had decided not to adopt a child now and that, as
Bessie was getting homesick, the parents might expect her home the next
day. Then, it had been only a test! Oh, how glad Mrs. Worthington was
that she had been faithful. Yes, her God was the very same God that
Abraham had served centuries before. It was hard to wait until
train-time the next day. When once more the loving mother held her
darling child in her arms, the tears that could not flow for weeks
streamed freely.
Bessie was glad to be at home again. After the cold, formal, loveless
life at her aunt's, she appreciated her own humble home more than ever
before.
But a far greater test was waiting the dear mother--one that would call
for more than human strength to bear.
After Bessie's return Mrs. Worthington put forth every effort to teach
her children more about heavenly things. She bore in mind the
scripture, "Train up a child in the way it should go; and when it is
old, it will not depart from it." As she did not want to fail along this
line, she spent every spare moment with her children. And she seldom let
them go from home to visit unaccompanied by her; but one day, being very
busy, she let them go alone to their grandmother's. The distance was not
great, and Bessie, now nearly six years old, knew the way perfectly. All
would have been well had their grandmother been at home. She being away,
the girls stopped to watch some children at play. These children were
breaking old bottles that they had picked up in the alley. As the little
girls stood watching the sport, a large brown bottle was brought forth
and with a heavy stroke of the hammer was broken. Small pieces of the
glass flew in every direction. One piece struck Louise on the palm of
the hand just below the thumb, knocking off the skin, but not producing
a wound deep enough to bleed. Her grandmother, who appeared on the
scene just at this time, examined the wound. She though it would soon be
all right, but bound it up with a cloth to satisfy the child. The
children played as usual and then returned home in time for supper.
When they came in, their mother, who had been very busy through the day
at housecleaning, was preparing a hasty supper, and she gave them no
special attention. The family were soon seated around the supper-table.
They had not been there long until Mrs. Worthington noticed that Louise
was not eating. She asked the child why she did not eat, but received no
reply. On being asked if her throat was sore, Louise nodded her head.
Still the mother did not think the child's condition serious; and, after
pinning a flannel around the child's neck, she did the evening work and
prepared to attend a prayer-meeting. She had noticed the rag upon
Louise's hand, but Bessie had laughed about the little cut and said,
"Grandma tied it up just to please Louise."
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