THE HOUR OF PRAYER by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 2, 1904

THE HOUR OF PRAYER.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

BY MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.

"NEVER mind, this morning, Edward,—we would better omit prayers, I think. I have the lunch to pack for the children's dinner, and it's almost school-time. The dressmaker will be here soon to fit Annie's dress, and I just haven't time to stop a minute."

I fancied Edward looked a trifle uneasy, and grandma's face grew sad, but the anxious and care-worn little housewife, with the two deep lines between the eyebrows, and the flushed face, did not seem to notice it.

The children, Jack and Milly, hurried off to school, father went to his office, the seamstress began her duties, and the nervous little mother pinned her sleeves higher as she rushed from one thing to another in frantic haste to "catch up with her work."

And so the day was begun without prayer. What wonder that the wheels seemed clogged all the day long? What wonder that Jack and Milly, hedged about with no mother's prayers or father's benediction, should go sadly astray at school, and bring disappointment and anxiety at their home coming?

No time for prayer! Danger and death on every side, and yet no time to run to the everlasting arms for protection and help. Wickedness and crime, sensuality and lust, ever grasping new victims; the enemy of souls constantly on the outlook to lead into evil and ruin son or daughter, and still we are so engrossed with the all-absorbing question of what we shall eat or what we shall drink or wherewithal shall we be clothed, that we neglect the one great business of seeking "first the kingdom of heaven."

Some day the dear old home, with all its sweet associations, will be broken up; some day there can be no more homecomings; some day our loved ones who make up the family circle will be scattered far and wide. What memory then so sweet to son or daughter, beset, it may be with temptations manifold and dangers many, as the memory of the quiet hour of evening, when father and mother, brother and sister,—all present,—joined in a song of praise, and each by turn supplicated the blessing of Heaven upon the dear home? Ah, to how many sons and daughters is this sweet memory denied!

"As thy servant was busy here and there, the man was gone." How many times in the rush of business, eager to make sure of the meat that perisheth, we all but forget the One whose locks are wet with the dews of night as He stands waiting for us to bid Him welcome. Shall we be so "busy here and there" that the MAN will be gone when at last we seek Him?

Then, too, shall we not all take part in the evening song of praise and in prayer to the loving One whose power has kept us all the day, and whose love has crowned our life with mercies? Let us gather the lambs of the flock, morning and evening,—let not one be missing.

Where is Mary? entertaining callers in the parlor? Never mind; it is the hour of evening worship; invite her in, and make room for the guests; there is another Guest who is waiting to breathe upon us all a sweet benediction fresh from the gardens of God.

Where is John? busy with his lessons? Let them be laid aside for a little, that the great Teacher may impart to us all a lesson better than any to be found in the books of earth's most learned men.

Let all the doings of the day; all the little joys and sorrows; all the victories over self, gained or lost, be freely discussed with each other. What could so bind the hearts of the family together? What so teach them to sympathize with each other? O, shall we not make the hour of evening prayer the sweetest in the day?

"I knew you would help me, mother," says Jack. "The temptation came so strong to-day to take that position Mr. Blank offered me in his hotel; but tho I need the money so badly, I refused the position because I knew he would expect me to sell liquor, and I could not look into your eyes to-night if I had consented."

"God bless you, my son! 'Woe unto him that selleth his neighbor drink.' We may be poor, but we will at least keep our garments clean from the blood of souls."

"And I," says Mary, "I have been tempted, too. The entertainment to which I have been looking forward all winter has at last been appointed on Sabbath evening. All the girls are going, and of course I have my ticket; but, like Brother Jack, I felt that I could not look into your eyes at this sweet and sacred hour if I had consented to do my own pleasure on God's holy day."

"The Lord of the Sabbath will bless you, my daughter, and I can not tell you how much you have added to the happiness of us, your parents."

"What have you to say, Susie?"

"I was just going to say that if Sister Mary had gone to the entertainment, I should have felt quite justified in going, too; as it is, I refused."

And so the heart-to-heart visit goes on. Mother and father hear all about every temptation, every failure, every victory of the day; brothers and sisters unite in encouraging and helping one another, until even baby Bess catches the blessed infection and declares she is "doin' to be dood all day morrow!"

Then every head is bowed in prayer, and the pure angels hover with their benediction of peace over the happy household.

Ah, were the blessed hour of prayer made the most of, there would be fewer family jars, fewer misunderstandings, less bickerings and complaining, and fewer hasty words! And, O, then—

Then peace, sweet peace, would rule our hearts, And blessed joy and heavenly love, Till we exchange our home on earth For home, sweet home, in heaven above.