Jacob’s Prayer

After practicing law over half of my life, I have concluded that people (myself included) often do dumb things, get themselves in trouble, and then, having created their own predicament, expect the law to bail them out. I am also painfully aware that the law does not provide a solution to every problem. Sometimes the law cannot save us from ourselves. I also know to a moral certainty that God answers fervent prayer.

He answers prayer. Sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes it is no, and often He answers in ways we cannot predict

Sooner or later, and on His timetable rather than our own, He answers prayer. Sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes it is no, and often He answers in ways we cannot predict. Personally, I have seen prayers answered quickly. Until I met Jacob Nkomo, I had never seen someone do so much to get himself into a predicament or seen the Holy Spirit intervene so quickly to bail him out. Jacob’s story is just one small example of how He has shown His hand in my every day existence. And each time my faith is reinforced.

I was feeling tired, cold and grumpy as I locked the door after another fourteen-hour workday. The day had been dark and dreary and the night was bitterly cold. I looked forward to getting home to my family. I had not seen them as much as I would have liked, owing to the fact I had just started a new business. The frenetic pace had required long absences from those I loved. I looked forward to the warmth of the family hearth. The last thing I wanted was to talk to another human being about the law at nine o’ clock at night. I had had enough of the Law for one day. 

Jacob Nkomo was a businessman from Cameroon

As I locked up, a tall, handsome black man approached me in the darkened hallway. He wore a long, gray trench coat, was possessed of movie-star good looks and sported a tinge of gray about his temples. He carried himself with an air of dignity and grace that reminded me of one of my childhood heroes, Nelson Mandela. He bore a troubled look on his face as he asked me for some time. I invited him in. He had a problem and I was apparently meant to help him.

Jacob Nkomo⁽¹⁾ was a businessman from Cameroon who had come to America and was struggling to establish a small business in town. He supported a wife and three young children. It was not going especially well for him. He was living a hand to mouth existence and it was taking his toll. “I don’t think I am very smart,” he told me. “I feel really dumb…everything is so hard.” I was instantly attracted to this stranger. Perhaps it was the fact that I too had just started my own business, knew how painful it was to start from scratch and how much you worried about supporting your family. It was tough for a white, middle-class person like myself to establish a business and meet the demands of the family, the regulators and the taxman

How much harder must it have been for this young man from Africa, in a society that is still racist--despite our delusions to the contrary? 

Worse yet, it was eight days before Christmas

He came to see me because he was perennially in debt, was living from check to check and sometimes there were simply no checks. He rented a modest apartment and he was often late with the rent payments. When there were no checks at the end of the month, he was very late on his rent. He had managed to avoid eviction for several months. However, he was a man of great honor and stiffing the landlord for rent was unthinkable. He would make it, his business would succeed, and he had great faith in God. It was just that, at this particular time, he was overwhelmed by it all. 

He asked to see me because he was about to be evicted from his apartment. “When?” I asked. “Tomorrow,” he replied sheepishly. I suggested as politely as I could that this did not leave us much time to react. Unless I chose to ignore him and tell him there was nothing I could do for him (which, I confess, was tempting) within the next few hours I would have to look at his paperwork, research the law and see if there was any possible way to avoid his imminent eviction.

He had totally ignored his situation, had done nearly everything he could to shoot himself in the foot and was asking me with just a few hours to go, to get him out of this mess. Not only was he late with the rent payment—for the fifth time this year—but the landlord had already filed suit for possession of the premises and Jacob, much to my chagrin, had not even bothered to attend the trial.

Therefore, a hearing was held in his absence, the landlord obtained a court order, which needed only to be served by the sheriff, and Jacob and his family would officially be tossed out of their apartment and into the snow. Worse yet, it was eight days before Christmas.

“Jacob, the very best thing you can do tonight is get on your knees and ask God for help"

One side of me felt angry that he would do so many things wrong and then, at the very last minute, ask me to pull an all-nighter to see if I could save him. Charging this man was unthinkable. So, I was destined to spend the rest of the evening trying to find some legal reason why the eviction should not proceed the next morning. But the other side of me saw a desperate man, about to be tossed out on his ear. And—whether he was right or wrong—he was a very nice man with a problem. There was something about him that made me want very much to help. God was testing my patience. I knew this to a moral certainty. The fact is, the next morning two sheriff’s deputies would appear at his apartment, serve the order, and escort him out—ready or not. There was literally nothing to stop it.

We talked late into the evening. I told him I would research the cases and the statutes, review his paperwork, and see if I could find any legal and proper way to prevent what seemed to be his inevitable eviction. I told him I would work on the problem that night until I found an answer. As we parted, I was brutally honest with him: “Frankly, Jacob, I don’t see any chance.” He understood and thanked me profusely for my time. “Come back at seven in the morning and I will give you my final answer. If there is something we can do, I will do it first thing in the morning.” As he walked down the darkened hallway, I gave him one last piece of advice. “Jacob,” I said quietly, “the very best thing you can do tonight is get on your knees and ask God for help. Say a prayer that He will change the landlord’s heart. I’ll say a prayer for you too.” He looked at me as if I were speaking Russian. I suppose it caught him off guard. After a moment of silence he replied: “You are right, I will. Thanks.” He walked off into the night and I hit the books.

This is not the only time I have seen the Holy Spirit intervene in people’s lives and change hearts

After a few hours of research, I concluded that there was no earthly way to avoid the eviction the next day. The landlord was determined to get him out, had quite enough of the whole business and would not even talk to Jacob for the past two weeks. The landlord had a perfect right to do what he did. He was not a bad person. He just wanted Jacob and his family out. He had every reason to want them out and no one could fault him for this. Jacob had done himself in. It was hopeless. I intended to tell him the bad news the next morning. I dreaded the prospect.

Bright and early the next morning, I waited for Jacob to come to the office as agreed. He did not show. I was more than a little annoyed. Two hours after the appointed time, he opened the door of the office, smiling broadly with his hands turned up to Heaven. In a rich, beautiful accent, he yelled: “God is good, God is good!” repeatedly, then shook my hand. “I cannot believe it…I said my prayers last night, asked God to change his heart and allow us to stay. And this morning the landlord said “yes.” God has truly answered my prayers!” Remarkably, the landlord had changed his mind. This man, who had incurred time and expense in filing suit, obtained a court order, and was ready to evict Jacob hours later, had changed. He told Jacob to forget about the court order. He did not want to evict him any longer. All Jacob had to do was pay the rent for the prior month and he could stay. All was forgiven. It seemed too good to be true, but this is exactly how it happened. Jacob’s prayer was answered indeed.

This is not the only time I have seen the Holy Spirit intervene in people’s lives and change hearts. Yet, it was one of those times. And I think it was meant to reinforce Jacob’s faith and mine too. It was gratifying that the landlord was led to perform a totally gratuitous act of human kindness. It was gratifying that God had intervened to help Jacob when the law could not. And it reminded me that sometimes the best advice a lawyer can give his client isn’t legal advice at all

Footnotes

1. Pseudonym

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