Naked, and ye clothed Me; I was sick, and ye visited Me; I was in prison,

and ye came unto Me.’ Matthew 25 v 36

The old Victorian mental asylum had been recycled and was now Westfield Hospital.  The building was a huge, three stories high with a capacity for 1700 patients. Set in beautiful gardens with azaleas, and banks of  rhododendrons and overlooked by great trees which completely hid it from the road.

Sidmouth Unit was component of the main hospital, situated only a short distance away and a complete contrast to the main edifice.

The unit, a nissan hut, where work, and occupational therapy, was provided for twelve patients by the charge nurse and a voluntary helper who supervised the patients and their activities.  Part of these were the packing of soap and other small jobs as a step towards their rehabilitation.  It gave the patients a respite from the oppressive wards and the regime that governed them.

Tuesday afternoon was the time set aside for the Gospel meeting,  patients and staff looked forward to it because it meant a welcome break from routine.

Everyone enjoyed the singing  and I could see Katie, the warm hearted helper, loving the response of her patients as  first one and then another joined in. She knew that for a little while their cares were forgotten.  “Prayer lifts me to the highest heaven” and another song, “Did you think to pray?” had been specially chosen because the theme of the meeting was prayer.

Afterwards I shared a few words about prayer,  “Call upom the Lord and He will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things.” (Jeremiah 33:3)

Later, as we drank a welcome cup of tea, one of the patients came over,

‘Tony, I try to pray, but God doesn’t answer me.’  Ben was about fifty years of age, slim build with graying hair suffering from deep depression.  Throughout the service he’d been sitting with his head down, avoiding eye-to -eye contact.  ‘I get no answer, I always pray in the name of Jesus’ he muttered.

‘You need to have faith,’  I shared a few truths with Ben but he didn’t seem to comprehend.  He was desperate, clutching my hand.   Realising his great need I spoke gently him, trying to comfort him and ease his depression but to no avail.

That evening after my return home, I was in prayer and remembered I had not mentioned sin.  I felt dreadful.  “If I regard iniquity in my heart the Lord will not hear me,” (Psalm 66:18)  I asked the Lord for forgiveness and made a mental note to speak to Ben of sin, the one barrier between God and man.

Some weeks later I met Ben on the ward, the activity and noise made it impossible for us to speak quietly together.  We walked out into the beautiful grounds and sat on a log.  I had been speaking about sin and as we sat together I asked Ben, ‘Have you ever asked Jesus into your heart?’

‘No,’ he answered.

‘Would you like to?’

‘Yes.’

I explained to Ben what it meant to be saved, to repent, to be born again.  The Lord Himself drew near, quietly and reverently we prayed a sinners prayer.  Ben asked God to save him and asked Jesus to come into his heart and life.  I put my arms around Ben and prayed for him.  It was a very precious moment.

I gave him a Bible to read, walked with him back to the ward, ‘Goodbye, I’ll visit you again soon.’ We hugged again before I left.

It was some weeks before I could visit Ben again.

‘The nurses taunted me when they saw the Bible you gave me,’ he told me.

The staff kept asking me, ‘What are you going to do with that, prop up the bed?’

‘I just ignored them,’ he said sadly.  Ben survived the taunts.  I started to visit him weekly and when he was well enough we went to church together before going home for a meal.  He gradually began to feel better.

There were many set backs and disappointments.  He was fearful of everything. Numerous times in the car I recited the words of 2 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love and of a sound mind.”  Then I would ask him to repeat it after me, phrase by phrase.

I often waited outside the hospital in vain, Ben was depressed or having a crisis.  Gradually however, his confidence grew and he was able to meet me at the main door, then at the gates, then one day he appeared on the doorstep of our home.  Hallelujah!  What joy we shared over his victory.

About two years passed before the day came when Ben left the hospital and was transferred to a ‘half-way house’

Having disturbed patients all around him and without supervision, Ben deteriorated.  There were times of deep crisis and sometimes, total defeat.

However, with constant love, re-assurance and much prayer his health.   slowly improved

Ben joined a little chapel and was Baptized and loved to join in with the hymns and prayers.  This caused a stir for some folks who were unsure of him and disliked his outbursts of praise and thanksgiving to the Lord.  Others were moved by his honesty, love and spontaneous joy in the Lord.  Ben would openly weep in gratitude.

In time Ben was given the keys to his own flat.  Within days it was fully furnished by loving, caring Christians.  Sheila and I were thrilled wwith the progress he had made.  Ben had suffered much physical damage in the Korean war, sadly he had not long to live.  He deteriorated both physically and mentally before being called home to the Lord.  I always saw him as “a brand being plucked from the burning.” Despite all his problems Ben really loved the Lord and was not ashamed to own Him and was an example to many.