But for God to accomplish what He desires to accomplish today, the art of prayer will have to be resurrected.
When I first received the baptism in the Holy Spirit and came over among Pentecostal people, I accepted the pastorate of a small Full Gospel church in the black land of North Central Texas. Most of the people in the congregation were farmers.
In the fall of the year when they harvested cotton, we dismissed all services except for Saturday night, Sunday morning, and Sunday night. On Sunday afternoons, we'd bring something to eat and gather at someone's house to eat together.
This particular Sunday we met at my future wife's house. A dear little lady was there. I had heard of her, but had never met her. Everyone called her Mother Howard.
They referred to her as "a mother in Israel." She ate. But as soon as we finished eating, and were visiting, she asked for a room where she could get off by herself.
She knelt on the bare floor. (I learned that sometimes she would put a newspaper on the floor and lay her forehead on it as she prayed all Sunday afternoon without moving.)
She was a widow. She owned her own home in a neighboring community. A pastor I knew lived in one side of her home with his wife and child. He said to me, "She makes a business of prayer. She arises at four o'clock in the morning. She prays from four to eight o'clock every morning. Then she cooks a little bite to eat. After that she puts in another two hours praying.
"She eats a light lunch, then she usually comes over to our side of the house and visits with us a while. By two or three in the afternoon she goes back to prayer. Sometimes she prays until midnight. If the burden is there, she prays all night."
She was born again many years ago in Dallas. Then they had moved to a town where there was no Full Gospel church. In fact, there was no Full Gospel church in any city or town around about. One by one, town by town, city by city, she took them, and prayed until a church was built there. Then she took the next town, and prayed until a church was built there.
Mother Howard, that little old woman, that beautiful saint of God, prayed a church into every town, every village, and every nook of North Texas.
I've thought about how it might be when we all get to Heaven and the rewards are passed out. The pastors who built the churches will be ready to step up and get their reward, but Jesus is going to call Mother Howard up there!
Hers was the work that got the job done! No one saw her. They hardly knew she existed. But she didn't wile her time away visiting and talking on Sunday afternoons. She was on the job. She literally gave her life for others.
That's what Jesus did. And He is calling for those who will give themselves to prayer today.
Excerpt permission granted by Faith Library Publications