Pray for lost souls
Romans 12:12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.
A slaveholding American on one occasion buying a slave, said to the person of whom he was purchasing him, “Tell me honestly what are his faults.” Said the seller, “He has no faults that I am aware of but one, and that one is, he will pray.” “Ah!” said the purchaser, “I don’t like that, I know something that will cure him of it pretty soon.”
So the next night Cuffey was surprised by his master in the plantation, while in earnest prayer, praying for his new master, and his master’s wife and family. The man stood and listened, but said nothing at that time; but the next morning he called Cuffey, and said, “I do not want to quarrel with you, my man, but I’ll have no praying on my premises: so you just drop it.” “Massa,” said he “me canna leave off praying; me must pray.” “I’ll teach you to pray, if you are going to keep on at it.” “Massa, me must keep on.” “Well, then, I’ll give you five-and-twenty lashes a day till you leave off.” “Massa, if you give me fifty, I must pray.” “If that’s the way you are saucy to your master, you shall have it directly.” So tying him up he gave him five-and-twenty lashes, and asked him if he would pray again. “Yes, massa, me must pray always, me canna leave off.” The master looked astonished; he could not understand how a poor saint could keep on praying, when it seemed to do no good, but only brought persecution upon him. He told his wife of it. His wife said, “Why can’t you let the poor man pray? He does his work very well; you and I do not care about praying, but there’s no harm in letting him pray, if he gets on with his work.” “But I don’t like it,” said the master, “he almost frightened me to death. You should see how he looked at me!” “Was he angry?” “No, I should not have minded that; but after I had beaten him, he looked at me with tears in his eyes, but as if he pitied me more than himself.” That night the master could not sleep; he tossed to and fro on his bed, his sins were brought to his remembrance; he remembered he had persecuted a saint of God. Rising in his bed, he said, “Wife, will you pray for me?” “I never prayed in my life” said she “I cannot pray for you.” “I am lost,” he said, “if somebody does not pray for me; I cannot pray for myself.” “I don’t know any one- on the estate that knows how to pray, except Cuffey,” said his wife. The bell was rung, and Cuffey was brought in. Taking hold of his black servant’s hand, the master said, “Cuffey, can you pray for your master?” “Massa” said he, “me been praying for you ever since you flogged me, and me mean to pray always for you.” Down went Cuffey on his knees, and poured out his soul in tears, and both husband and wife were converted. That negro could not have done this without faith. Without faith he would have gone away directly, and said, “Massa, me leave off praying; me no like de white man’s whip.” But because he persevered through his faith, the Lord honored him, and gave him his master’s soul for his hire.