WHILE preaching in a jail in Scotland once, Richard Weaver addressed a group of eighty women prisoners gathered to hear him. He felt that they had had plenty of harsh words shouted at them, so he spoke of the love of God and sang the lovely hymn, “Rest for the Weary.” Then those who desired to speak with him were asked to put the numbers assigned to them as prisoners outside their doors. In this way, he had the privilege of dealing with over thirty anxious inquirers.
Just as he was about to leave the prison, the kind-hearted governor pointed to one of the cells and said, “In that cell is the worst character in all the prison. I have had to put her on low diet and keep her in chains, but I cannot break her will. She has not put out her number, but I wish you would pay her a visit also.”
The cell door was open. On the three-legged stool in the center of her cell sat the poor wretched prisoner. Putting his hand on her shoulder, Mr. Weaver said in all the love of his heart, “The Lord loves you.”
“No, He doesn’t,” was her reply. “I am too bad for God to love.”
“But,” said the evangelist, “God commendeth His love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
He stayed a while talking with her, and then she dropped on her knees and uttered the cry, “Thank God, someone loves me!”
Mr. Weaver prayed with her and then left the cell. The next day as he was preaching in another part of the prison, a letter was put into his hand with the request that it be read to the other women. It was from the woman whom he had visited in her cell the day before, and in the letter she testified how that she had found the Lord. He had had mercy on her and pardoned her sins. As soon as Mr. Weaver read out the name of the writer, several cried out, “If God can save her, He can save me.”
After that, several put out their numbers as a sign that they wanted to be spoken to also, and he went from cell to cell telling of the wonderful salvation that is in Jesus. He said, “The stories they told of the way in which they had been entangled in sin and crime were so heart-rending that I left the prison humbled at the remembrance that it was only through the grace of God that my lot was different from theirs.”
What would our fields bring forth for us without the gifts He sends, Without the sunshine and the rain on which our bread depends, His tittle water brooks to flow, His birds to be our friends.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Alleluya! Alleluya!
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
Alleluya! Alleluya!
Alleluya! Alleluya! Alleluya!
Consider the wondrous works of God
O taste and see that the Lord is good
ML-08/17/1969