Over two feet of God-sent water in Bevington's well



While I was at my home at Ashland Heights, Brother White came over for water [from Bevington's well] ... this well was the only one that was near there, so numbers of people came to get water. I would give them tracts and talk salvation with them. "Well," a neighbor said, "Brother Bevington there is a spring down the hill; and you had better send these people down there, as your well will soon go dry. Too many are drawing from it, and it always goes dry in the summer." Well, the water soon got roily; but still the people came; and it was suggested that I put a sign out asking them not to get any more water until it rained. Well, I thought that was all right, and went so far as to write up the sign. I got the tacks and the hammer, and started out to put the sign up; but when I got part way out to the gate, a voice said, "Where are you going?" Well, I was startled and looked around, really expecting to see someone behind me; but there was not a person in sight. I just stood there, and again the voice said, "Yes, where are you going?" I tell you that settled it. I tore up the sign, dropped on my knees, asked God to forgive me for venturing that far into the realms of Doubting Castle, and began praising Him for rebuking me. Just as I got off my knees, here came three women with large buckets, so I got a small bucket and gave it to them to draw with, as the large bucket would get but little, and I availed myself of the opportunity of going in to get some more tracts and talking salvation. One of them had never been there, and I felt that God sent the message home to her, as she had four precious children to train. Being let alone they would not need any training for hell as they had the thing in them that would land them there without any human help. Well, they had a time getting their three buckets full, but I just kept sweet. I said, "Lord, send them on. I would rather pack water from the spring ninety rods away than to miss an opportunity of warning those lost mothers."

The day passed. I went out in the evening with a two-quart bucket, let it down and got it half full of roily water. I said, "Well, Amen, I can go to the spring," so I started off with two buckets. I had two hills to climb, and was impressed to leave one bucket, and did so. I started to the spring, and, lo, the voice said, "Bevington, where are you going?" Well, I knew the voice; hence never looked around, but instantly turned and went back into the house, and had somewhat of a struggle in getting where I could easily praise the Lord for rebuking me, as I had to have water. I was then thirsty. I prayed my way through the darkness, got up, and then the neighbor came in with a quart of nice cool water that she had gotten some distance from home. Well, I began to see that God wanted to send water into the well though there was no rain nor signs of rain, and the well had always gone dry at that season and remained dry for three, four, or often five months, they said. I got down and began praising God for stopping me and for sending in the sister with the water. I had been in the habit of taking a good drink just before retiring; and there was where Satan had confused me, as he had kept saying, "What are you going to do for that cool drink that always helps you so?" I had to tell him it was none of his business what I was going to do about it; so I had a struggle for three hours over it, but got the victory.

I retired, claiming two feet of water in the morning, which had not been since we lived there, and I told the neighbor that we would have at least two feet of water in the morning. She was a dear woman, a member of a church, but knew nothing about God answering prayer. She looked at me, puzzled, and said, "Brother Bevington, what makes you think that? I have never known of there being two feet of water in that well. When there comes a freshet it leaks out." The well was seventy-two feet deep. "Well," I said, "we will have it." She said, "I see no signs of rain." I said, "I do." Well, that puzzled her more than ever as the firmament was decked with brilliant stars. I went to bed, praising God for two feet of water in the morning, so that I could have plenty for the neighbors.

I had a two-quart bucket that I drew out with the windlass and, without thinking, in the morning I started out with this two-quart bucket. But there it was again. I had to be rebuked again. It seemed that the bucket spoke up as did Baalam's ass, and I dropped it, as if it were a hot poker, and stopped, and said, "O God, forgive me! Oh, forgive me!" and felt the touch. I went to the well, let down the large bucket, gave it the usual time to sink, started to draw it up, and felt by the pull that it was full. I shouted, "Oh, glory! " Out came this neighbor. I said, "We have our two feet this morning." She came over by the time I had the bucket up and out, and there it was full and as clear as a crystal. I just stood there weeping for joy. She ran into the house, got a cup, took a drink, and said, "Well, that is a marvel. Your God surely has answered your prayer." She broke down, and we both stood there by that well, weeping. She said, "Brother Bevington, that is something new to me; but do you really think there are two feet?" I said, "Yes." "Well, please measure it." "No," I said, "I would not do that, as it would be displeasing to God." "Well, may I?" "Certainly." So she measured it, and found there were two feet and nine inches of water, and that amount was kept up all summer and fall.

Now I have left out what, to me, was the cream of it. Satan bothered me, tormented me all he could all night. He woke me up to notify me that it had not rained during the night. "Well," I said, "I am not looking for rain; I am after water, rain or no rain." While I was dressing, he just poured in his logic and came near drowning me; but I rallied. I got dressed, dropped on my knees, as prayer is generally the best weapon I can use; but I seemed to make a slow progress for the heights. I jumped up, and said, "Mr. Devil, I have two feet of water out there!" But that seemed to have no effect on him, whatever. I said, "I will see what our calendar says." I struck a light, and referred to the daily Scripture on the calendar. Now listen, what was there: Isa. 33:16, "Bread shall be given him; his water shall be sure." Oh, how I did rejoice. Think of it, that after all that struggling, God had that very passage there on the canvas for me, for my special use. I tell you I have never been without a Scripture calendar since. Oh, God answers!