Health in Answer to Prayer.
By J. S. Miller
“THE prayer of faith shall save the sick.” James v, 15. Some two years ago, as I arose from my bed one morning, feeling badly from the effects of chronic diseases, the above scripture came to my mind, and the question arose, Why may I not pray to the Lord to heal me of my maladies, and be healed, as well as the early Christians did? Is not the Lord the same? Is he not as willing to bless now as then? I could but answer all these questions in the affirmative. Could I not, then, be healed? “Not while you chew tobacco,” said a still, small voice. I had in my pocket a large piece of tobacco, and my first impulse was to be rid of the troublesome weed, that stood in the way of my physical salvation. The window of my room was open, and I gave it a toss over the wall into an adjacent orchard. Then came the struggle with a morbid appetite. Up to this time, I was not aware what a slave I was to this vile habit. I went into the field and attempted to work; but I was in misery, for my weakened nerves reached out after their accustomed opiate. I stood it, however, until about three o’clock in the afternoon, when my appetite got the better of my decision, and I went to that place in the orchard where the piece of tobacco had fallen, and, after a short search, I found it. The avidity with which I seized my quid, and deposited it in the accustomed place along side the salivary glands, can only be appreciated by those who have become fully wedded to the use of the weed. From this time onward, my struggle was not for an answer to my prayer, but to overcome a filthy, health-destroying habit. For several weeks tobacco beclouded my spiritual vision when I would come to God in secret prayer. Tobacco blunted the edge of truth when I would exhort my brethren to holiness of life. Tobacco crippled all my efforts when I attempted to talk with the unconverted. In this condition I went to Ashaway, where I became acquainted with the little band of Seventh-day Adventists there. I was surprised to find that the subject of health was considered a matter of so much importance with the Seventh-day-Advent body, and still more that they had already become so far advanced that not one of them would be seen using tobacco in any form. I had now no excuse. I had the light with regard to duty, and now I was providentially thrown into the society of those who would assist me in trying to overcome. I dare no longer resist. I resolved that, at all events, I would be free from such slavery. I made the effort, and prayed for divine aid. The struggle was a hard one, but I, at last, began to feel the goading of appetite less severely. But in overcoming this bad habit, I obtained more light. Would the Lord now heal me? “Not while you eat pork,” was the silent response of the Spirit of truth. The trial in this case was less severe. In fact I can hardly call it a trial, for I had but little struggle with appetite. But light continued to dawn upon my mind. About this time Dr. Jackson’s valuable tract on tobacco fell into my hands. From this little work, I learned that there were many articles of diet in common use that were almost as detrimental to health as tobacco. I there learned that tea and coffee, and all that long list of articles, which pass under the general name of condiments, such as pepper, salt, mustard, vinegar, horseradish, &c., and spices of all kinds, were the exact counterparts of tobacco, and were but substitutes for such stimulants as rum, whisky, &c., and that health could not be expected so long as these things were indulged in. Another trimming up was the result. As my intellect became clearer, and my investigations were carried further, I discovered that all flesh-meats were objectionable, especially for persons afflicted as I was. Here came another struggle. But in the strength of the Lord, I overcame, and flesh-meats have long since come to be among the things that were, in my list of edibles. As the light increased, I continued to correct my dietetic habits, until, at length, the question again arose, Will the Lord heal me of my chronic diseases? The still, small voice again answered, “Not while you sleep on feathers, in a seven by nine bedroom, from which you exclude the pure air of heaven.” Up went the window—away went the feathers, and I rejoiced in another advance step in hygienic habits. Again more light was given. Another struggle, another victory, and so goes on the warfare. But how about my first prayer for health? Will the Lord hear and answer? The Lord has heard. The Lord has answered, in a measure at least. Disease is gradually, but surely, giving way; and, if I persevere, I have no doubt, I may ere long be set at liberty. But will the effects of disease remain? They will. Nothing short of a miracle can ever free me from the results of disobedience to law, either moral or physical. But will deliverance come in answer to prayer? It will. A wrestling Jacob overcame. So can I. So can you, my brother. Thank the Lord, and take courage.