Over in Canada there lived an Irish saint called “Holy Ann.” She lived to be one hundred years old. When she was a young girl, she was working in a family for very small wages under a very cruel master and mistress. They made her carry water for a mile up a steep hill. At one time there had been a well dug there; it had gone dry, but it stood there year after year.

One night she was very tired, and she fell on her knees and cried to God; and while on her knees she read these words: “I will open . . . fountains in the midst of the valleys: I will make . . . the dry land springs of water” (Isaiah 41:18 KJV). “Produce your cause, saith the LORD; bring forth your strong reasons” (v. 21). These words struck Holy Ann, and she produced her cause before the Lord.

She told Him how badly they needed the water and how hard it was for her to carry the water up the steep hill; then she lay down and fell asleep. She had pleaded her cause and brought forth her strong reasons.

The next morning early she was seen to take a bucket and start for the well. Someone asked her where she was going, and she replied, “I am going to draw water from the well.” “Why, it is dry,” was the answer. But that did not stop Holy Ann. She knew whom she had believed, and on she went; and, lo and behold, there in the well was eighty-three feet of pure, cold water, and she told me that the well never did run dry!

That is the way the Lord can fulfill His promises. “Produce your cause . . . bring forth your strong reasons,” and see Him work in your behalf.

How little we use this method of holy argument in prayer, and yet there are many examples of it in Scripture: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Elijah, Daniel—all used arguments in prayer, and claimed the Divine interposition on the ground of the pleas which they presented.

Our heav enly Father never takes any earthly thing from His children, unless He means to give them something better instead. GEORGE MUELLER

An easy thing, O Power Divine, To thank Thee for these gifts of Thine! For summer ’s sunshine, winter ’s snow , For hearts that kindle, thoughts that glow; But when shall I attain to this: To thank Thee for the things I miss?

For all young fancy’ s early gleams, The dr eamed-of joys that still ar e dreams, Hope unfulfilled, and pleasur es known Through others’ fortunes, not my own, And blessings seen that ar e not given, And ne’er will be—this side of heaven.

Had I, too, shar ed the joys I see, Would ther e have been a heaven for me? Could I have felt Thy pr esence near Had I possessed what I held dear?

My deepest fortune, highest bliss, Have gr own, per chance, fr om things I miss.

Sometimes ther e comes an hour of calm; Grief turns to blessing, pain to balm; A Power that works above my will Still leads me onwar d, upwar d still; And then my heart attains to this: To thank Thee for the things I miss.

THOMAS WENTWOR TH HIGGINSON

Instead of the dry land, springs of water! Instead of heaviness, the garment of praise! Instead of the thorn, the fir tree! Instead of the brier, the myrtle tr ee! Instead of ashes, beauty! (Isaiah 41:18; 55:13; 61:3)