"Call upon me," says God, "in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. "This is one of those cheering promises which have been the comfort and safety of God's people in every age. While it gives a condition, it pledges a sure and blessed result, telling us that if in danger, or perplexity, or trouble, we call upon God, he will answer, deliver and save.
Multitudes have tested the promise, and in their own experience have found it to be true. In the hour of perplexity or danger many a child of God has called on him, when there was no other resource, and has found him faithful to his promise to deliver, as is shown in the following narrative, which is literally true:
In a large and lone house in the south of England lived a lady of piety and wealth, with only maid-servants in the dwelling itself, her menservants being in cottages at a distance from the house. It was her custom to go through the house with one of her servants every evening to see that the windows and doors were properly secured; and one night, after seeing that all was safe, she retired to her room, when, as she entered it, she saw distinctly a man under the bed. What could she do? Her servants were in a distant part of the house, where they could not hear if she cried for help, and even if with her they were no match for a desperate house-breaker. What, then, did she do? Quietly closing and locking the door, as she was always in the habit of doing, she leisurely brushed her hair, put on her dressing-gown, and then, taking her Bible, sat down to read. She read aloud, though in a low and serious tone, choosing a chapter which had special reference to God's watchful care over those that trust him, whether by day or by night. When it was ended she knelt and prayed aloud, commending herself and servants to the divine protection, pleading their utter helplessness and their dependence on God to preserve them from danger, and praying for the poor, the sinful, and the tempted, that they might be kept from evil and led to put their trust in God as their father and friend. Then arising from her knees and putting out the candle, she laid herself down in bed, though of course she did not sleep. After a few moments the man came out from his concealment, and, standing by her bedside, begged her not to be alarmed.
"I came here," he said, "to rob you; but after the words you have read and the prayer you have uttered no power on earth could induce me to harm you or to touch a thing in your dwelling. But you must remain perfectly quiet, and not make a sound to alarm your servants or to interfere with me. I will give a signal to my companions which will lead them to go away, and you may sleep in peace, for no one shall harm you or disturb the smallest thing in your house." He then went to the window and gave a low whistle, and coming back to the lady's side said: "Now I am going. Your prayer will be answered and no disaster will befall you."
He left the room, and soon all was quiet; and the lady at last fell asleep, calm in the exercise of her faith and trust in God, her soul filled with thankfulness for his protecting goodness. The man proved true to his word. In the morning it was found that not a thing in the house had been disturbed. And the lady more than once earnestly prayed that the man might be led to forsake his evil course and put his trust in that Saviour who came to seek and save the lost, and who, even on the cross, could accept and save the thief who was penitent.
The deliverance of the lady may seem wonderful, and the story almost too strange for belief. But some time after the occurrence a letter was received by the one who related it, fully corroborating the statement, and adding some facts that enhance both the wonder and the mercy of the escape. The letter says: "In the first place, the robber told her that if she had given the slightest alarm or token of resistance he was fully determined to murder her, so that it was providential she took the course she did. Then, before he went away, he said: 'I never heard such words before, and I must have the book out of which you read;' and he carried off her Bible, willingly enough given, you may be sure."
This happened years ago, and only lately did the lady hear any more of the robber. She was attending a religious meeting in Yorkshire where, after several noted clergyman and others had spoken, a man arose, saying that he was employed as one of the bookhawkers (or colporteurs) of the society, and told the story of the midnight adventure as a testimony to the wonderful power of the Word of God, concluding with, "I was that man!" The lady rose from her seat in the hall and said, quietly: "It is all true, I was the lady!" and sat down again.
If we had more faith in God's Word and more full and childlike reliance on his promises and his providence, should we not far more frequently find, in our own experience, that he never fails his people in the hour of their need?
Who are invited by God to call upon him in the day of trouble? Why are you not invited? Why would it be wrong for you to call upon God in your day of trouble? Because you do not repent of your offenses against him. Repent now, and then you will have a right to ask him for help