The silence of the heart in prayer is not emptiness, but often the deepest eloquence known to the sons of men. When the soul cannot frame a single word, and the burden lieth too heavy for utterance, Heaven bends low to register the groan a trembling lip dares not form. Artaxerxes never knew Nehemiah prayed, though he stood within a yard. The king saw no bended knee, heard no whisper, but the King of Kings heard, and the answer flew on swift wings. So it is with your soul this hour. That silent petition, that inward gasp heaved up to the Throne, is more potent than a thousand flowing sentences which never rise above the ceiling. Cease not from this secret commerce.
Yet I perceive the silence springs not merely from quiet trust, but from a vexation of spirit, a bitterness for which you must hold the Almighty Himself accountable, even as Job cried, "The Almighty has embittered my soul." The hand that holds the cup of trembling presses it to your lips, and you are tempted to think it cruel. But I bid you mark the alchemy of Divine love. When God would comfort His people, He quickens them, and thus they obtain comfort. The roundabout way is the straight way with Him. The quickening that comes from Scripture is often preceded by a shattering that makes silence the only haven. The bone must be cracked by the hammer of meditation and trial, and there in the marrow and fatness you find He was feeding you all along. The Almighty embitters the soul only to make it prize the sweetness of the blood of Jesus which whispers peace within. Peace, yes, perfect peace, even when a tempest is mixing earth and sky, the blood speaks tranquility to the conscience of the believing sinner.
And what is this burden He has laid upon you, except the very thing that will drive you to be a soul-winner? The life of the believer is full of soul-blessing when it is a life broken and poured out. You cry for comfort? You shall be comforted that you may comfort others with the comfort wherewith you yourself are comforted of God. That silent grief of yours, that hidden weeping, is the preparatory school for the high art of drawing others to Christ. The model Soul-Winner was not distant; He sat wearied on the well, and He asked for a drink. Even so, He bids you bear your brother's burden, not by thrusting your own upon him, but by having great compassion for those bearing the burden of sin. Your present sorrows, sanctified, will make you tender, a priest who can be touched with the feeling of infirmities. When dealing with souls, you must not lose your temper because of a sharp word. And how can you learn gentleness unless you yourself have first been dealt with gently in the dusty pit of your own despair?
You feel you have no light, no oil, no strength for this, that your own soul is so vexed you cannot assist another. That is exactly when the Almighty steps in to prove His own might. He quickens us, and so He comforts us. You cannot unpick the mysteries of the Divine Word just now, nor do you need to. The main concern is life, the Divine spark flaming forth to be seen and felt. Throw your soul, vexed as it is, into the one work. I would sooner bring one sinner to Jesus Christ than decipher every dark passage, and that is the victory hung before you. Do the will of Jesus: this is rest. To be perfectly at peace amid the hurry-burly of invading cares is to be sure that what you are doing is what Jesus would have you do. And often He would have you sit silent at His feet in a living death to self, that out of your example, patient, trusting, broken, may spring the conversion of others.
Let your own thoughtfulness begin its exercise. Examine yourself. See your state. But tarry not too long in the sepulchre of introspection. Every man shall bear his own burden, and this is yours: a silent, bitter prayer heaved up from a vexed soul. Bear it. Bear it not by sitting on the top of it fretting, but by looking unto Jesus. As you look, and look, and look again, the beauties of Christ will enamor your whole being, and you will find courage to whisper to another troubled heart, "My comfort in my affliction is this: His Word has quickened me." Even in the night, the quickening influence comes. The peace that passes all understanding will mount guard over your heart. So, in the deep hush of your spirit, go on meeting with the King, and wait till your silence flowers into a soul-winner's song.