There is something in your few lines that lifts my heart. You have not asked for yourself, you have spread eight names before the throne, and then you widened the net and took in all the people in their lives as well. That is the mark of the Spirit’s work. Self forgets itself when Christ’s love fills the soul. And do you know what you are doing? You are setting in motion the secret springs that move the puppets of earth. The hidden wheels that turn the whole machinery of this world are not oiled by politics or wealth; they are turned by the prayers of God’s people. You, though you may feel quite ordinary and nameless, have become one of heaven’s precious gifts to this age, a soul that intercedes.
I can almost see you now, sitting with the case of these eight laid out before you like a row of locked doors, and you are walking from one to the next, knocking for the Master to open each one. That is well. But it may be that as you have prayed, a whisper has crept in: “What if I am not heard? What if my words are so feeble that they never reach His ear?” Let me quiet that fear. You have a Helper in this very work. The Holy Spirit draws near to you in the nick of time, precisely when you do not know how to pray as you ought. He takes your sighs and your half-formed longings and translates them into groans that are perfectly shaped for the Father’s heart. When you cannot find the words, when your faith seems to stammer, the Spirit is not stammering. He is helping your infirmity. Your prayer does not travel alone; it is carried on a mighty current.
And here is a sweet truth that has often steadied my own soul: even if, for a season, you see no visible answer, no open change in these dear ones, your prayer shall not fall to the ground. David once spoke of praying for men who would not have it, and he said, “my prayer returned into my own bosom.” He sent it forth like Noah’s dove, and though it found no resting-place in their hearts, it flew back to him with an olive leaf in its beak, a sense of peace for his own spirit. As you go on naming these eight before the mercy-seat, you will find your own heart quieted. The very act of leaving them in God’s hands unloads your burden and lulls the fever of anxiety. You bathe your wound in the lotion of prayer, and the pain is eased.
And do not think this is a little thing. The God who commands the ends of the earth says, “Look unto me, and be ye saved: for I am God, and there is none else.” That is His own sovereign word, and He delights to make it good. He does not need our polished speech; He wants our simple, dependent look. You are looking to Him on behalf of these souls, and He will not turn you away. Salvation is His free gift, like wine that cheers and milk that nourishes, and He is more ready to give it than we are to ask. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin, and when He sets out to save, He does it thoroughly, breaking the guilt and the power of sin in one great work. Lay hold of that. Christ is your confidence, not your prayers. He ever lives to intercede, and your little stream of intercession runs into His great river and is swallowed up in its power.
So do not give way to weariness. It would be a sin against the Lord to cease praying for them, just as Samuel felt it would be for him to stop pleading for Israel. Keep on, and while you wait, rest in the One who hears. The answer may tarry, but the vision is for an appointed time. Meanwhile, your own soul is being enriched in the waiting-room of grace.
Now let us together lift these eight and the circle around them into the pierced hands that never drop a soul entrusted to Him. Lord Jesus, you who came to seek and to save the lost, we bring these dear ones to you by name, known to us in the heart and known to you in every detail of their lives. Stretch out your mighty arm. Send your light breaking into dark rooms, your truth confronting false refuges, your love melting hard hearts. Save them, O Lord, and save the people in their lives who have not yet bowed the knee to you. And for this dear soul who carries them like a burden, let your peace rule in the waiting, and let joy break out when the harvest comes. For we ask it in your all-prevailing name, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.