Making the Iron Swim
Las, master, for it was borrowed! “exclaimed one of the sons of the prophets beside the river Jordan, when his axe-head flew oflf and sunk in the turbid stream. And Elisha said to him, “Where fell it?” The young student showed him the spot. Whereupon the man of God broke oflf a stick and cast it into the stream, and lo! “the iron did swim I” The student put forth his hand and took it up, and went on with his work to hew down timber for a “Log College,” to be occupied by the sons of the prophets.
Here was a direct interposition of the Divine power. The honour of a company of good men was at stake; a loss had been met with; God repaired the loss in a miraculous manner. God, who is the author of all law in nature, directly on that bit of iron, and made it rise up from the bottom of the stream. It was just such a special dispilay of the Divine power as that which sent the ravens to feed the famished prophet Elijah, and at another time made a poor widow’s barrel of meal and cruse of oil hold out.
These were very unlikely things to happen; but God constantly does unlikely things to reward the faith of His children. Elisha’s heavenly Father is our Father. He is the Father of every faithful mimst-ex of the word, of every toiling missionary, of every true philanthropist who is struggling to turn the darkness into day, of every working Christian, and of every poor widow or orphan in His huge earthly household. He still fills poverty’s empty cruse. He still makes the iron swim!
Yonder, at Ashley Down, lives George Müller, the noble, godly-minded superintendent of the famous “Orphan Houses,” which shelter and educate hundreds of poor children every year. George Müller began that vast work of love in simple faith. He goes on with his labour of love, and prays, God puts it into the hearts of liberal men to send him money, and Müller has already received and expended over two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Faith does its duty, and God makes the iron swim.
Sometimes the Lord transmutes the hardest outbreaks of human wrath into instruments of mercy. That royal scoffer, Charles II., locked up John Bunyan in Bedford jail for twelve years. That padlock kept Bunyan there, shut up with his Bible, until he wrote the” Pilgrim’s Progress ‘’ — and that iron is swimming yet
There is a prodigious leverage for our faith in the glorious doctrine of God’s providential love. It enables us to remove mountains out of our way. It stimulates us to persevering effort in the face of every obstacle. A godly mother, for example, dedicates her only son to the gospel ministry. But how to educate him with sl widow’s scaivty ppxis ls ^. ^wxxlva.^ question. It seems a hard dilemma. But at the critical time the will of a deceased relative is opened, and a legacy for the widow’s son is found in the will. The lad is sent to college, and he lives to-day to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to a vast audience. So the widow’s God made the iron swim!
How well I remember the difficulties which beset my path, when I came over to Brooklyn ten years ago, to undertake the building of a new church edifice on the sound principle of a large house and low pew-rents. We had but a feeble band of helpers, and many predicted failure. When the building began, Sumter’s flag fell, and with it fell apparently all hope of prosecuting our undertaking to success. But we went forward. Poor and godly women did their own housework to save a few dollars for the church. From unexpected quarters came aid — for “the people had a mind to work” — and the iro?i did swim.
These are not miracles exactly; but the God who floated the prophet’s axe at the Jordan yet lives, and He still loves to reward faith and to answer prayer. There is a rich encouragement in this truth for all who are earnestly labouring for the conversion of souls. An unconverted heart is often like to the young prophet’s axe-head — it is heavy and hardp and tending downward .But the Spirit of God can make the iron move. Know this, ye disheartened parents, who almost despair of ever seeing your ungodly children come to Jesus. Be not weary m -^omx ^^q».’s» lr>V^xn% them to the Saviour. Make your religion attractive to them. Pray for them without ceasing.
Ye praying wives, whom every communion Sabbath separates from your impenitent husbands, do not give up. God can make the iron swim. A loving wife, who spent a whole Sabbath lately in most pleading petitions for her husband’s soul, was jo)rfully surprised on Monday morning to see the man upon his knees.
A long-suffering wife of a sad inebriate has just been into my study to tell me that her husband came home lately sober and penitent. For dark, weary months she has being praying for his reform, hoping against hope. It actually looks now as if the poor slave of the bottle would be saved; but I confess that I never expected to see that stubborn piece of metal float. With God all things are possible.
During a period of revival in a certain town, a woman of devoted piety persuaded her sceptical husband to go with her once to church. He came home enraged. “I will never go again,” said he; “that sermon against infidelity was aimed at me.” She saw that the shots were striking him in a sore spot. So she prayed the more fervently.
One evening the wife said kindly to him, “I want you, my dear, to grant me one little request. Will you go with me to-night to the meeting? He answered gruffly,” I will go with you to the doorP “Very well,” she replied, cheerfully; “that will do.” He accompanies her to the door; he stays outside while she goes in to pour out her soul lo Cj0^mlm’^Q>.>xDkax^ believing prayer for that iron heart. Presently the door opens. A man walks in, and going to her seat sits down beside her. He listens quietly. The wife walks home with him, all the time talking secretly to God.
The next evening, after tea, the husband rises, and says, “Wife, isn’t it about time for tis to go to church?” It is too early; but she snatches her bonnet and shawl, and hastens off with him to the house of God. A happy evening is it to her long-tried spirit, for the stubborn sceptic bows at the feet of Jesus. He comes home to set up a family altar. Faith wins its precious victory, and the love of Jesus makes the iron swim t