Thank you so much Tafadzwa that was really touching, I was especially moved
by the faith of that little girl.  It seems that the older you get the more
you want to reason things out, but if only we could come to God like little
children and believe that He is well able to grant our requests our lives
would be different.

Our internet connection has not been good for the past few days so I would
like to take this opportunity to say to all my fellow Vibers!!

*WELCOME TO THE YEAR OF BREAKTHROUGH!!!!*

I am so excited about what God will do with us this year as we grow in
relationship with each other this year.  As the man of God instructed "for
those who will grow in horizontal relationships this will be our year of
Breakthrough
* *


On Wed, Jan 6, 2010 at 11:14 AM, Tafadzwa Mushambi <
[email protected]> wrote:

>
>
>
>
>  Isaiah 65:24
> This was written by a doctor who worked in Central Africa
>
>
> One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in
> spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby
> and a crying two-year-old daughter.. We would have difficulty keeping the
> baby alive; as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an
> incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities.
>
>
> Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous
> drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the
> cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the
> fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell
> me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in
> tropical climates).
>
>
> 'And it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is
> no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be
> considered no good crying over burst water bottles.  They do not grow on
> trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
>
>
> 'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and
> sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is
> to keep the baby warm.'
>
>
> The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of
> the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters
> various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny
> baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning
> the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got
> chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her
> mother had died.
>
>
> During prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual
> blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send
> us a hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby
> will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.'
>
>
> While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And
> while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so
> she'll know You really love her?'
>
>
> As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly
> say 'Amen'? I just did not believe that God could do this.  Oh, yes, I know
> that He can do everything; the Bible says so... But there are limits, aren't
> there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by
> sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four
> years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home.
> Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water
> bottle? I lived on the equator!
>
>
> Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training
> school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the
> time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the porch was a large
> 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel
> alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the
> string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to
> tear it unduly... Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of
> eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.
>
>
>
> From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled
> as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy
> patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed
> raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend.
>
>
> Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the..... could it really be?
>
>
> I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle.
> I cried.. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He
> could.
>
>
> Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out,
> 'If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!
>
>
> 'Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small,
> beautifully-dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up
> at me, she asked, 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little
> girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?'
>
>
> 'Of course,' I replied!
>
>
> That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my
> former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's
> prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator.. And one of the
> girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in
> answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it 'that
> afternoon'.
>
>
> 'Before they call, I will answer.' (Isaiah 65:24)
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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