Making the Most of Life | Page 9

need to care for only one thing--that we may be faithful always to duty, and loyal to our Master. Then, the duller the round and the sorer the struggle, the surer we shall ever be of Christ's smile and help. We may glory in infirmities, because then the power of God rests upon us.
It is not ordinarily in the easy ways, in the luxurious surroundings, in the paths of worldly honor, in the congenial lot, that the brightest heavenly visions are seen. There have been more blessed revealings of Christ in prisons than in palaces, in homes of poverty than in homes of abundance, in ways of hardship than in ways of ease. We need only to accept our task-work, our drudgery, our toil, in Christ's name, and the glory of Christ will transfigure it and shine upon our faces.
CHAPTER IV.
THE POSSIBILITIES OF PRAYER.
"Ask and receive--'tis sweetly said; Yet what to plead for know I not, For wish is worsted, hope o'ersped, And aye to thanks returns my thought. If I would pray I've naught to say, But this, that God may be God still: For time to live So still to give, And sweeter than my wish his will." --DAVID A. WASSON.
We do not begin to realize the possibilities of prayer. There is no limit, for example, to the scope of prayer. We may embrace in it all things that belong to our life, not merely those which affect our spiritual interests, but those as well which seem to be only worldly matters. Nothing that concerns us in any way is matter of indifference to God. One writes: "Learn to entwine with your prayers the small cares, the trifling sorrows, the little wants of daily life. Whatever affects you,--be it a changed look, an altered tone, an unkind word, a wrong, a wound, a demand you cannot meet, a sorrow you cannot disclose,--turn it into prayer and send it up to God. Disclosures you may not make to man, you can make to the Lord. Men may be too little for your great matters; God is not too great for your small ones. Only give yourself to prayer, whatever be the occasion that calls for it."
We soon find, however, if we are really earnest, that our desires are too great for words. We have in our hearts feelings, hungerings, affections, longings, which we want to breathe out to God; but when we begin to speak to him, we find no language adequate for their expression. We try to tell God of our sorrow for sin, of our weakness and sinfulness, then of our desire to be better, to love Christ more, to follow him more closely, and of our hunger after righteousness, after holiness; but it is very little of these deep cravings that we can get into speech.
Language is a wonderful gift. The power of putting into words the thoughts and emotions of our souls, that others may understand them, is one of the most marvellous powers the Creator has bestowed upon us. Thus we communicate our feelings and desires the one to the other. It is a sore deprivation when the gates of speech are shut and locked, and when the soul cannot tell its thoughts.
Yet we all know, unless our thoughts and feelings are very shallow and trivial, that even the wonderful faculty of language is inadequate to express all that the soul can experience. No true orator ever finds sentences majestic enough to interpret the sentiments that burn in his soul. Deep, pure love is never able to put into words its most sacred feelings and emotions. It is only the commonplace of the inner life that can be uttered in even the finest language. There is always more that lies back, unexpressed, than is spoken in any words.
It is specially true of prayer that we cannot utter its deepest feelings and holiest desires. We have comfort, however, in the assurance that God can hear thoughts. He knows what we want to say and cannot express. Your dearest friend may stand close to you when your mind is full of thoughts, but unless you speak or give some sign, he cannot know one of your thoughts. He may lay his ear close to your heart, and he will hear its throbbings; but he cannot hear your feelings, your desires. Yet God knows all that goes on in your soul. Every thought that flies through your brain is heard in heaven.
"O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, Thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou searchest out my path and my lying down, And art acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, But, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether."
We need