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Voice Of Prophecy

H.M.S. Richards

How to Pray

Lift up the trumpet and loud let it ring, Jesus is coming again.

Cheer up ye pilgrims, be joyful and sing, Jesus is coming again.

This is the voice of prophecy, a voice crying in the wilderness of these modern days.

Coming again, coming again, Jesus is coming again.

From our Voice of Prophecy studios in Los Angeles, California, we welcome you to this half hour of inspiration and music transcribed with the King's Herald's, Del Delker, Brad Braley, and HMS Richards, the Voice of Prophecy speaker.

The King's Herald's first song agrees heartily with the many Bible prophecies that assure us that we shall see the King someday.

Though the way we journey may be often drear, we shall see the King someday.

On the blessed morning clouds will disappear, We shall see the King someday.

Gathered round the throne when he shall call his own, we shall see the king some day.

After foes are conquered, after battles won, we shall see the King someday.

After strife is over, after stead of sun, we shall see the King someday.

Gathered round the throne when he shall call his own, we shall see the king someday, someday.

Our Heavenly Father, We pray that we may indeed see the King someday.

Bless everyone who calleth upon thee today, and may those who hear the music and the message be drawn nearer God.

There is a place of quiet rest near to the heart of God, a place where sin cannot molest near to the heart of God.

Be still, my soul, the Lord is on thy side.

Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.

In every change, ye faithful will remain.

Be still, my soul, thy best, thy heavenly friend, Through thorny ways, leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul, the hour is hastening on, The hour is hastening on, when we shall be forever with the Lord.

When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.

Be still my soul when change and tears are past.

All safe and blessed, Here now is HMS Richards, the voice of prophecy speaker.

Those who have the privilege of reading the signs of the times, America's great prophetic weekly, may have enjoyed that wonderful prayer story by Leonard C.

He says that he had always thought that prayer concerned only the forgiveness of sins, that it was his own job to look after himself while he lived and then God would decide what to do with him afterward.

He had given his heart to God as a boy of 12, but now at 19, he, like Jonah, was running away from God and trying to lose himself in the northern wilderness of Canada, thinking that God would forget.

After having helped a neighbor move his household goods to southern Alberta, he decided to work his way north to Alaska.

By February, in the dead of winter, he had traveled nearly a thousand miles through snow and was attempting to reach the trading post on the Laird River.

He was plunging along on snowshoes into a howling blizzard trying to follow the outlines of a creek which he believed would lead him to the river.

He had started with plenty of provisions when he left the settlement on the Peace River, but the fury of the blizzard had pinned him down for days.

At last his food was gone, yet he was forced to keep going to keep from freezing to death.

Finally he decided that he would never make it and was wondering if anyone would miss him, when suddenly he heard a voice saying, Turn to the left.

He started on north again, but again he heard that voice, almost pleading in its intensity, Turn to the left.

He could see no reason for turning to the left into the howling blizzard which was coming from the west So started on north once more But there came over him a strange feeling that he was running away from God He couldn't stand it.

So he took a look at his compass and turned to the left toward the hills and into the freezing wind.

Blinded by the driving snow, he had miles to climb and the going was hard.

It was getting dark with an arctic twilight when he crossed a divide and descended to another creek bed.

He decided to turn right and follow this creek to the river, but again he heard that voice, turn to the left.

He obeyed, and a few rods up from the creek he saw a cabin half buried under the snow.

Using his snowshoe for a shovel, he dug his way to the door and went in.

Out of the blackness came a groan, which startled him.

He struck a match, and there was an old man in a sleeping bag, lying on a low bunk, his beard and eyebrows covered with ice from his breath.

I rushed from the cabin to gather some scrub wood while twilight lingered.

I looked for food in the cabin, found none.

As the room warmed up, the old man was able to talk a little.

He had been on his way to the trading post when he fell and broke his leg.

He had crawled into the abandoned cabin, hoping that someone would find him.

He had been there for a week and had given up all hope.

Then he turned to God in prayer, asking Him to send help.

The very timing jolted my youthful self-confidence as I realized that a hand had reached down from heaven and answered an old man's prayer.

At the very moment I was wondering if anyone would miss me, God was sending his angel to guide me to this lonely cabin to help him.

I knew that food and medical help had to be obtained quickly.

I built up a good fire that would keep the cabin warm for hours and enough snow melted for the old man to drink.

Again a strange feeling of awe came over me.

I'd been going in the wrong direction, trudging into an empty, freezing wilderness.

I had been too proud to ask for help, too self-sufficient to pray.

But the prayer of an old man who needed God and asked for help had given God an excuse to turn me in the right direction.

Let's pray before you go, Henry Bruce said.

I knelt by his bunk as I had at my mother's knee while he laid his hand on my head and in a feeble faltering voice asked God to take care of me.

Well, the wind died down, the stars were shining, the thermometer dropped to about 40 below.

Lee's stomach was empty and his bones ached, but he forgot his weariness and the needs of another.

He almost ran those 20 desperate miles in an effort to get help before the fire died down and the Arctic cold crept in and snuffed out the life in the cabin.

Telling of his experience, Lee says that as he pushed on toward the trading post, he had the feeling that he was walking in a dream with someone walking beside him and some unseen power picking up his snowshoes and setting them down.

2 strong men with a dog team were sent to take food to the old man and bring him in for medical help.

I couldn't help thinking that God called Abraham and Isaac and Jacob thousands of years ago, said Lee, but he called me yesterday.

The same God who sent Jonah to save the Ninevites sent me to save Henry Bruce.

The same loving Savior who walked with the 3 Hebrews in the fiery furnace and walked with me through the blizzard and the biting cold.

An old man's prayer and faith had moved the hand of God to reach down and stop me in the snow and change my course in my life.

The old trapper soon recovered and went back to Edmonton where he lived with relatives.

From that day, said Leonard Lee, prayer took on a new meaning for me.

Remember God is a prayer-hearing God and He commands us to pray.

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