”Mother, I Dare Not Pray!"

 •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 6
Henry was the son of Christian parents, and so consistent was his way of life that his parents hoped that he was a Christian. At the age of nineteen he was summoned home to his father's funeral.
After they returned from the cemetery the family gathered in the evening in the room where so many pleasant hours had been spent in days gone by. There was Father's empty chair and there were the worn slippers at its foot. There was also the large family Bible from which Father had always read a chapter at bedtime.
The clock struck ten. Henry's mother looked at him. Then, pushing the Bible across the table, she said, "My son, read a chapter."
He colored slightly, but did as she asked. She then rose and looked at him, as if expecting him to lead in prayer. He understood that glance, and in an instant the full reality of his position rushed upon him. He felt—oh, how keenly!—how totally unprepared he was for it.
He hesitated one moment, then hid his face in his hands and broke forth with, "Mother, I dare not pray."
One moment more she gazed at him before she seemed to understand it all. Then, falling upon her knees, she poured forth her heart-felt prayer to God for mercy upon the child of her heart. Earnestly she pleaded that the light of divine love should shine into his soul and guide him safely on the pathway of life. Tenderly she committed him to the Savior of sinners.
Before she had ended, Henry knelt beside her. He saw himself as God saw him—a sinner, and turned to the One who died for sinners! "But God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Rom. 5:88But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8). When he arose, it was as a believer in the Lord Jesus—a saved man.