Answers to Prayer

Chapter 2

GOD PROTECTS HIS CHILD

God used a number of experiences to prepare me so that He could then bless others through my intercessions. They helped me to see both the importance and power of intercessory prayer.
 
The first of these experiences happened in the wintertime. For a number of days I had been studying the biblical concept of faith. While Scripture speaks of vast numbers of people having had their lives ruled by distrust of God and unbelief, it also reveals how certain persons acquired a living faith by developing an unfaltering trust in our heavenly Father, and in the power of His Holy Spirit. I decided to keep thanking the Lord for all the many times in my life when His Spirit had given me faith, and asked Him to increase it.

That particular morning in my devotions I read the experience of Philip in Acts 8, where an angel told him to go south of Jerusalem on the road to Gaza. There he saw the treasurer of Candace, queen of Ethiopia, sitting in his chariot reading a scroll of Isaiah. Then the Spirit of God said to Philip, "Go near, and join thyself to this chariot." 

As a result, a baptism took place, and the Bible says that "when they were come out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip." And he found himself at Azotus, a little town about 20 miles from where he had left the Ethiopian eunuch.
Reading the story, I said to myself, What exciting times those days were when the Spirit of God was so close to people. And through the rest of that day I meditated on the biblical story.

In those days I was a salesman, and that evening I had a 9:00 p.m. appointment with a building contractor living on a rural road about four miles west of Castile, New York. Our home was in Curriers, about seven miles north of Arcade. To avoid a route that would have forced me to go east in a roundabout way, I had gotten instructions to go cross-country on some county roads that would supposedly save me a lot of travel time. Unfortunately, it didn't. I got lost three times because of the constant crossroads, and I made wrong turns. It meant stopping and asking directions at farms, and I arrived almost an hour late.

On my way there I realized that my gas gauge had dropped rather low, but reasoned that the best thing to do was to fill the tank in Castile afterward. We got involved talking business, and time flew by. When I had finished writing up an order and was ready to leave, my watch indicated almost midnight. By then the thought of getting gasoline had left me. The contractor, desiring to save me going into Castile in order to take Route 39, a state road that would carry me west into Arcade and home, suggested that I drive three miles west from his residence, then take a left that would get me directly onto Route 39.

I was reluctant to go that way, but he said I couldn't make a wrong turn because of a huge landmark at that intersection. As I stepped out on the porch, the cold chilled me instantly. He looked at his thermometer, which read five degrees below zero.
"I hope you have a good battery," he said.
 
"Yes, sir. One of the best for winter driving." Waving goodbye, I left. Because of the bitter cold, it took longer than usual to get heat into the car, and it absorbed all my attention. I had traveled about five miles when all of a sudden the engine began to lose power. A glance at the gas gauge told me the tank was empty. Terror struck my mind as I realized that the last farm I had passed was more than a mile away, and no more were in sight.

Like a flash I saw myself in a hospital bed with my toes cut off. You see, when I was 17 years of age, I froze all my toes one morning in northern Quebec when the temperature had gone down to -42° F. I spent five months in the hospital. The flesh turned black and actually fell off my toes. Afterward I had a number of opera-tions, skin grafts, etc. And the day of my discharge the surgeon who had worked on my feet sat me down and stated that I should no longer live in that part of the world. He believed that my feet would quickly freeze if exposed to the cold, and that the only thing that could be done then would be to amputate.
Now in a burst of fear I cried out, "Dear Jesus, please help." Many times before when certain destruction stared me in the face, I had made that call for help, and Jesus had never failed me. Immediately a great calm came over me. But the car was still slowing down.

"Forgive me for being so panicky, seeing that You have never failed me," I prayed. "O Lord, I know that the Spirit of God that transported Philip 20 miles so long ago can get me and this car over those hills into Curriers if He so chooses. Dear Jesus, may the Spirit of God that controls the atoms please fuel this car so it will take me home without stopping. Thank You, Lord, for Your help." 

It was almost as if something hit the back of my automobile, and it shot forward; then the motor started to accelerate and hummed like never before. The speedometer climbed and when it reached the speed limit I had to release my foot from the pedal, as the vehicle kept dashing ahead. Eagle Hill—which I had never climbed without the transmission shifting down—I now sped up in high gear. Jubilantly I praised the Lord for His miracle-working power.
 
I began quoting verses of Scripture, such as Psalm 107:1, 2, and 8: "O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy." "O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!" Praising the Lord with my whole heart and at the same time crying for joy, I felt the words of Psalm 105:1-5 had never sounded so wonderful. "O give thanks unto the Lord; call upon his name: make known his deeds among the people. Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him: talk ye of all his wondrous works. Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord. Seek the Lord, and his strength: seek his face ever-more. Remember his marvellous works that he hath done; his wonders, and the judgments of his mouth." After I pulled into the driveway, up a small grade, and past the side entrance of our house, the car stopped. It did not reach the garage. Turning the ignition off, I ran into the house, surprised to see the lights on in the kitchen.

About 11:45 p.m. Hilda had awakened, and realizing that I was not home yet, got on her knees and prayed for God's loving care over me. As I entered, she knew that something great and wonderful had happened. "You look excited. What's the good news?"
I recounted how the Spirit of God had brought me home 27 miles without any gas in the tank. We had a praise session to the Lord that probably lasted an hour, then went to bed but could not sleep most of the night, as we kept talking about my experience. In the morning I tried to start the car, but it would not. We had to fetch gasoline from the neighbor's farm to get it going.

Facing Death and No Time to Pray 

Nothing prepares a person for sincere heartfelt prayer as the threat of death. And I have found by experience that nothing calms fear as well as memorizing verses of Scripture that tell of God's deliverance in ages past. During times of need the Spirit of God fortifies the mind with the power inherent in the Word of God.

I have had experiences that would have driven me crazy were it not that I had fortified my mind in the Word of God, and trusted the Lord to carry me through whatever He would allow to come my way.

In late March, about two months after the previous incident, we had a lot of snow in the western New York area. In Wyoming County around the Arcade-Rushford area, snowplows had piled up mounds in some places as high as i0 feet. But the rigor of winter was beginning to abate, the sun was gaining strength, and the days were getting longer.

One particular evening while I traveled home I occupied my time memorizing 2 Chronicles 16:9: "The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him." By then I neared Rushford, driving at a reasonable rate of speed and slowing down before each turn in the road, as it was impossible to see if any vehicles were coming around the corner.

Suddenly I came upon a stretch of road that was quite slippery, as some of the snow had thawed during the day, then refroze when the sun went down, leaving large patches of ice. It was impossible to brake lest I lose control of the car. Touching neither brake nor accelerator, I let the car roll into the curve with the hope that nothing approached from the opposite direction.
As I rounded the corner I saw a large horse standing in the middle of the road. There was no way to avoid hitting it. My hands froze on the steering wheel, and all I could say in a call for help was "Dear Jesus." Instantly some force, which I believe to be the Spirit of God, since I felt the exact same presence that night two months be-fore, wrestled the steering wheel out of my hands and directed the car toward the front legs of the horse. Just a moment before impact the animal reared up on its hind legs, and I slumped in my seat to avoid the hoofs hitting me in the face through the windshield.

They cleared the car probably by one or two inches. A short distance down the road I managed to bring the car to a stop and give my pounding heart a couple minutes to recover and at the same time send forth a prayer of thanks.

Realizing the danger to other motorists, I drove to the first house down the road to see if the horse belonged there. When I explained what had happened, the man stated that the animal belonged to a neighbor and was kept indoors during the winter months. Picking up the phone, he contacted the owner, who declared that his horse had been in its stall a half hour ago when he had completed his evening chores. However, he would check and call right back.

A few minutes later the message came that in some mysterious way the horse had gotten out. The stall door was wide open, the barn door was ajar, and the animal was gone.

Neither man could figure out how it could have taken place. Nobody could have reached the barn without someone seeing him, since the driveway faced a large picture window in the kitchen where the family had been at the time. "It's strange, strange," they said.

My wife and I had another praise session to our heavenly Father. Death had stared me in the face, but the eyes of the Lord had been upon me, and His Spirit brought deliverance. That incident helped me to grow in knowledge of God.

Lamentations 3:22-26 contains special words of hope and assurance of God's loving care over those who place their lives in His protection. "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord."
Many times over the years my heart has lifted up to God in thanksgiving whenever the Spirit of God has brought me out of impossible situations.
 
Truck Crash

For almost 20 years I worked in telephone directory advertising sales (yellow pages) for both the Bell and Continental telephone systems in Ohio, New York, and Pennsylvania. For the last five of those years, I was division sales manager for the Mast Advertising and Publishing firm of Overland Park, Kansas, publishers of directories for Continental Telephone and other independent telephone companies. I had charge of directory people in the Northeast Division, covering an area of eight states.
Yearly I traveled anywhere between 25,000 and 45,000 miles. I was on the road in rainstorms, snow-storms, dense fog, and other unfavorable conditions. Frequently I saw cars hurtling at me that were undoubtedly driven by drunks or individuals with their minds spaced out on drugs.

To be crushed in a car on a highway is something that doesn't attract much media attention in this day and age, but to be smashed in a car in a Sears parking lot could get front-page attention.

In December 1971 I was working on the Watertown, New York, telephone directory. For a few nights it had been exceedingly cold for that time of the year, and one morning I wanted to assure myself that my battery would not fail me, so I proceeded to the Sears auto department to have it checked.

It was a busy morning in the service department, undoubtedly brought about by the cold spell that had taken many by surprise. Being unable to bring the car indoors (the bays were filled), the service manager brought a tester out to the car, performed the necessary checks, and announced that the battery would carry me through another winter without any problems.
Meanwhile a large tractor-trailer loaded with 27 tons of cargo had parked sideways behind my car while the driver went inside the store to get unloading instructions. My car faced the building, making it impossible to get away. At the time I was driving a small Saab. The manager suggested that I back up under the body of the huge trailer, as there was sufficient room to do so. He would guide me in the maneuver.

The truck motor was turned off and the brakes set, or otherwise it would have rolled down the hill, since the parking lot was on a steep incline.

Slowly I backed under the trailer while the service manager directed me. When I had all of the car under the trailer except the motor, suddenly I felt that same feeling of urgency that I had experienced in previous emergencies. I remember bringing the gearshift out of reverse position; then what seemed to be a powerful and sudden push propelled the car forward. If I had not had my foot on the brake I would have hit the building. Even with that lunge forward, the vehicle did not get completely out of the path of the truck that suddenly shot backward, hitting the rear bumper and knocking the taillight off the fender. The blow shoved the back. part of the car sideways about three feet.
 
The people who had been watching me back up under the trailer ran to the car to see if I was all right. Although shaken some, I was not hurt. They kept repeating, "Are you all right? Man, are you ever fortunate. You were almost killed. How did you get that car forwaris to dok die you kne to thop the ruck from going into the brick wall?" One elderly woman de-clared, "Your angel saved your life. God must certainly love you a lot." A man said, "Fellow, you were almost crushed flat into that car. Do you realize that?"
The tractor-trailer damaged several cars, jackknifed, then stopped as it demolished the back half of a large Chrysler. The driver of the rig appeared on the scene in time to see his vehicle crash into the last car. Unable to believe his eyes, he emphatically declared that he had the truck in forward gear and that the emergency brake was on.
 
The owner of the Chrysler was furious. He and his wife had gotten out of the car just a few seconds before the accident and were walking up to the store; they had to run out of the way to avoid being hit. He began accusing the driver of being many unflattering things, including being an idiot for leaving a truck standing without the brakes secured properly. Determined to check them there and then, he started for the cab, but the driver refused to let anyone enter it and stayed out of it himself until the Watertown police could get there and make an accident report.

A great number of people gathered quickly, everyone curious to know what had taken place. They were amazed that I had escaped certain death. When the police arrived they tried to disperse the crowd and clear the way so that traffic could move, but the people didn't want to leave.

One of the officers climbed into the cab of the truck to examine the controls. He stated to his partner that the ignition was off and the gear shift was in neutral, and the light on the dashboard indicated that the brakes were on. Naturally he couldn't figure out what had happened that would have allowed the truck to roll as it did.

When he prepared his report I was the first one he interviewed. At the close, he said, "Mr. Morneau, you are a very lucky person in the fact that you are alive at this moment. A second longer under that trailer, and you would not be here making an accident report. Instead you would have made the front page of the evening paper, and I can imagine how that would read." 

As I drove away, the words "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning" went through my mind.