An aged minister of the word, named John Ryland, of Northampton, was once upon a journey in his Master’s service, when he was overtaken by a violent storm and compelled to seek shelter at the first inn he came to. Having stabled his horse, he sat down with the family of the innkeeper, in their wide, old fashioned chimney, where all strove to make him as comfortable as possible, while he waited for the abatement of the storm. But time passed on, the rain continued to fall heavily, and John Ryland found he must remain for the night. Having supped with the family, and the house being cleared, the host informed his tired guest that his chamber was ready as soon as he chose to retire.
“But.” said his visitor, “you have not had your family together.”
“Had my family together!” echoed the astonished landlord: “I don’t understand you, sir.”
“To read the Scriptures and to pray with them,” replied the guest. “Surely you do not retire to rest without doing so?”
The landlord, who was an unconverted man, to whom family prayer would have been an empty form, of course confessed he had never been accustomed to do anything of the kind.
“Then, sir,” said Mr. R., “I must beg you to order my horse immediately.”
The landlord and family entreated him not to expose himself to the storm which was still unabated, but Mr R., who was resolved to carry his point that he might set Christ before them, replied that he would rather faze the inclement weather at that late hour than sleep under any roof without prayer. They had received him into their family circle, and treated him as a friend. They had passed a pleasant evening together, and the aged servant of Christ having found no convenient opportunity of setting the truth before them, felt that the time had now come for a testimony for his gracious Master. The landlord still remonstrated, expressing great regret that he should offend such an agreeable visitor, but was evidently afraid or ashamed to attempt such an unheard-of innovation as family prayer in a public inn. Still Mr. R. remained firm to his purpose, and at last, finding that nothing would avail to turn his guest from his fixed resolve, the landlord said he should have no objection to “call the family together, but should not know what to do when they came.” Mr. R. replied that if his host had no objection he would willingly conduct the little service for him, a proposal which the poor man, glad to escape from an insuperable difficulty, thankfully accepted, and accordingly the entire family, servants, hostler, and all, were summoned into the spacious kitchen, and sat down, probably for the first time, beneath that old roof, to hear the Scriptures read and expounded. After, this, the servant of the Lord knelt down, and with much fervor and solemnity poured forth his supplications on behalf of all present. It was a solemn moment. He felt it was the first, and might probably be the last time that the only “name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved,” would be proclaimed in that house, and he prayed accordingly. Nor did his earnest and touching appeals to the throne of grace remain unheard. When they rose from their knees, nearly every face was bathed in tears, and the inquiry, “What must I do to be saved?” was awakened in almost every heart.
Much profitable conversation ensued. On the following morning the precious opportunity was renewed, and the Lord owned the faithful testimony of his aged servant. Most, if not all the inmates, of the old inn were converted and became devout and earnest followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. Family prayer was never again omitted in that house, and, strange as it may appear to some, the innkeeper and his family became the instruments of spreading the Gospel in a neighborhood proverbially dark and destitute of a knowledge of the truth. Thus the fruits of faithfulness abounded to the glory of God, and who shall tell where or when they ceased to spring up, or how many shall rise in that day to bless God for the hour when his servant was detained by a storm at an inn? “Them that honor Me I will honor.” Servants of Christ, “be instant in season and out of season,” for that which seems unseasonable to man is often God’s special time for working; and when “He will work, who shall let it?”
ML 02/22/1903