“A dear friend of mine who was quite a lover of the chase, told me the following story: ‘Rising early one morning,’ he said, ‘I heard the baying of a score of deerhounds in pursuit of their quarry. Looking away to a broad, open field in front of me, I saw a young fawn making its way across, and giving signs, moreover, that its race was well-nigh run. Reaching the rails of the enclosure, it leaped over and crouched within ten feet from where I stood. A moment later two of the hounds came over, when the fawn ran in my direction and pushed its head between my legs. I lifted the little thing to my breast, and, swinging round and round, fought off the dogs. I felt, just then, that all the dogs in the West could not, and should not capture that fawn after its weakness had appealed to my strength.’ So is it, when human helplessness appeals to Almighty God. Well do I remember when the hounds of sin were after my soul, until, at last, I ran into the arms of Almighty God.”
A. C. Dixon.
A couple of days ago, a friend reminded me that I had shared this story with him. He and I and a friend of his discussed the story and its implications for the Christian.
I decided to paste it in a new post and write about it (I’m glad my former neighbor convinced me to maintain a wiki for personal use, because I quickly found the quote just where I had stored it).
This quote by A.C. Dixon serves as an impetus for me. It encourages, even drives me, to pray. When my comprehension of God’s character brings me to the realization that He is to me just like this man was to the breathless fawn, I am humbled before Him, and led to pour my heart out to him in times of trouble as well as in times of relative tranquility. If the God of the universe waits for me to run to Him and confess that I need Him desperately to save me from all adversity (and I believe that He does wait ever patiently for me), then my only acceptable response is to run to Him and cast all my need at His feet.
I must say that I don’t display the appropriate response as often as I should. How untapped do I leave His resources! The riches of His grace are there, like an artesian well capped on the top. I only need to bow in prayer to remove the cap, and let flow such a flood that I would not be able to contain it.
May I be stirred up more and more to run to Him by thoughts such as the one at the head of this post.