A Prayer Battle

“I cried out to God with my voice—to God with my voice; and He gave ear to me.” Psalm 77:1. Prayer must be expressed. It must be definite and clear. “I cried,” says David. It is necessary that prayer should be distinctly uttered and clearly expressed, because it puts us into a definite inward attitude. When a man says that he cannot pray, he really means that he does not know how to express himself in prayer; for to say that one cannot pray is the same as saying that one has no need—which is impossible. We all have need. There is not a moment in the day when we do not need something, whether material or spiritual; but it often happens that we do not know how to present it in prayer. We have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry. “I cried out to God with my voice, and He gave ear to me.” Because of the Spirit of adoption, you cry—and what is your cry? “Abba, Father.” When a child cries, the mother starts up at once, even though others say, “Oh, that is not a proper cry!” The mother knows the child’s cry and understands what it cries for. Our Father listens to our cry and understands what we need. It often happens that there are many words in prayer, and often much noise—but the spiritual tone is lacking.

David says that he cried: “In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord; my hand was stretched out in the night without ceasing; my soul refused to be comforted.” Here is a prayer that is not answered—a cry for help and comfort which brings neither help nor comfort; a sick and wounded soul that refuses to be comforted. What is the hindrance? Let us consider the following verses. “I remembered God and was troubled; I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed.” I wish the whole Church of God would remember God and be troubled—for then there is hope; then the morning will bring joy. Here is a man who remembered God and thought upon Him through the night watches, and yet the thought of God did not calm his troubled soul. That was the spirit of complaint. When a person is in a hard place and sorely tried, he feels that no one has it so hard as he does: “No one has temptations like mine; no one has burdens as heavy as I have,” he says—and the cry to God becomes mixed with complaint. He broods and frets, sees no way out, and his spirit is overwhelmed.

“You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.” The children of God know something of night watches. “You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.” “I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.” I remember a time when my prayer was fervent, when I was zealous with God’s zeal, when I was very bold—but it is not so now. One examines that former time closely. There are many people who love to analyse their feelings. They take out their “feelings,” look at them, measure them, weigh them, and say, “I do not feel the same joy today that I felt yesterday.” They measure God by their feelings and weigh the faithfulness of the faithful God by what they feel. What they feel becomes the deciding factor of their faith. This man’s spirit “searched diligently,” and he cried: “Will the Lord cast off forever? And will He be favourable no more?” When one thus searches in such hours of temptation, one is not greatly encouraged; and if Satan can only disturb what one sees while searching, he will press the spirit down so that even when one cries to God, the sight of one’s own wretchedness overwhelms him, and he thinks that God has hidden Himself and closed His ear to his cry. “Will the Lord cast off forever? And will He be favourable no more? Has His mercy ceased forever? Has His promise failed forevermore? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His tender mercies?” Now there is a pause. The soul is very low indeed. Do we know this, when everything seems shut up? But then comes a pause. The soul breaks through into light. “I said, this is my infirmity.” The cry of the first verse had penetrated: “I cried out to God with my voice, and He gave ear to me.” The Psalm was probably written after this experience. (In English it reads, “I cried—He heard,” in the past tense.) The proof that David’s cry was heard is seen in the sudden light that came upon his condition. He suddenly saw that it was an evil spirit that was troubling him—a spirit of weakness. How common it is for the children of God to be oppressed by this spirit, pressed down below the normal, everything appearing dark and impossible, freedom seeming unattainable, while the spirit of oppression whispers: “There is no use trying; I have the power.”

(To be continued.)