Riches of grace

by E. E. Byrum

I could never reward my father for that night of prevailing prayer, but he lived to see me become a minister, a missionary, and to hold the highest position on the mission field, and then the Lord called him to his eternal reward. My mother entered into rest about two years previous to that time.

It is my hope and prayer that the story of my father's night of prevailing prayer may encourage other parents to pray as he did. Parents may not always through prayer be able to break the wills of their children and compel them to surrender to Jesus, but I do believe that my father prayed until God sent such conviction through the Holy Spirit that sin became such an unbearable burden that I gladly yielded my will to the will of my God; prayed until my sins were pardoned, the burden removed, and I was genuinely converted. I firmly believe that the same heavenly Father will hear the cry of other parents, and for their encouragement I leave this testimony concerning God's answer to my father's fervent prayers.

After my conversion I rejoiced many days in the delight of that precious experience. For months I had a real and precious joy in the consciousness of pardoned sin, but after a time I found that I did not have a continuous, abiding peace and rest. There was a longing for something more than it seemed I now possessed. As a boy I tried very hard to be good, and as I look back I believe that I lived a very correct outward life. I lived among a very godly people, who set a high ideal before me, one to which I felt I could not live. I observed my daily prayers, but suffered many an inward defeat.

MY SPIRITUAL STRUGGLES

I can not now recall that I ever heard a sermon on heart-purity or victory over the power of sin. No person in the congregation where our family attended meetings professed holiness, nor do I remember that the experience was talked about. The people did speak of "having religion" and "more religion." There were people in the congregation whom I still believe lived holy lives, and the testimony of their lives convicted me, for I knew that they had an abiding joy and peace in their religion that I had not. I therefore became very much dissatisfied with my inner life and was struggling all the time for an experience such as I knew others enjoyed.

The weekly testimony of a man who attended our prayer-meetings was, "I have just enough religion to make me miserable." That is, he had too much religion to get his pleasure out of the world and not enough to get it out of his religion. I always felt that that man told the experience I then had. For three years I endured that exceedingly unsatisfactory religious experience. I then attended a revival and went forward for prayer night after night, but no relief came to my poor burdened heart. As my case became more desperate, I recalled the story of Jacob. He prayed until the morning, and at the rising of the sun the angel appeared and blessed him. I spent several nights in prayer, but found no relief.

GAINING THE VICTORY

On Saturday morning about sunrise I was on a straw stack in the barnyard with a long hay-knife cutting across the stack to loosen the straw to feed the cattle. While thus working and in a despondent, meditative mood, wondering what I could do, there seemed suddenly to float out before me in the air in illuminated letters, "John three sixteen." I began to read, "God so loved the world." I reasoned then that God so loved me that "he gave his only begotten Son." All was clear thus far. Then I came to that all-inclusive word, "whosoever." I stopped at "whosoever" and recalled the story I heard of Richard Baxter, who said, "I would rather have the word 'whosoever' in John three sixteen than have Richard Baxter, for then I should at once be tempted to believe it was for some other Richard Baxter."

I reasoned, "I know that my name is in that 'whosoever.'" I then read on—"believeth on him." "Do I believe on him?" This was the next question to be settled. During several years I had, in competition for a Sunday-school prize, recited the whole four Gospels. In thought I ran over what the New Testament said about Jesus and cried out, "I believe every word of the gospel; Lord, I do believe."

Then I read on—"should not perish." Quick as a flash I saw the weak place in my faith. I had been believing on Jesus, but feeling that I should perish. At that point I sprang to my feet on the straw stack and read it over again—"Should not perish, but have everlasting life." Then I saw that through doubt I had treated the promise as though it read "should perish and not have everlasting life." I cried out, "Lord, I will reverse it no longer. I will believe it as it reads."