Your prayer is steeped in Scripture, and this is a sweet savor before the throne, for the Lord delights when His children plead His own words back to Him. Yet let me stir you up by way of remembrance: the work you long to see in that heart is the sole province of the Holy Ghost. You may plant, another may water, but God gives the increase. The heart of your wife is a citadel that only divine love can storm. Take heed, therefore, that you do not slip into the error of thinking that your fervent prayers, multiplied texts, or prolonged anxieties can of themselves produce what only God can bestow. The kindness of God leads to repentance, but that kindness must be apprehended by a heart made tender by the Spirit. Till then, the hand of God may humble, but humbling alone is not conversion. Nebuchadnezzar was brought low and ate grass like an ox, yet he did not truly repent until his understanding returned and he blessed the Most High. There is a repentance that is but the vomit of a dog, earthly, sorrowful only for consequences, lacking that holy loathing of sin as sin against a gracious Father. Never be satisfied with a mere reformation of life, a tearful remorse, or a forced submission. Nothing short of a new heart will do, and that is a gift purchased by blood, applied by the Spirit, and known by its fruits: a turning from sin and a turning to God with all the affections.
You do well to remember the prodigal. His father saw him while he was yet a great way off and ran to meet him. The eyes of mercy are quicker than the eyes of repentance. Our God is not a reluctant listener, but a willing Redeemer, more ready to forgive than we are to ask. Yet the prodigal came to himself first; he felt the hunger, the shame, the folly of his way. This awakening is the Spirit’s work, convincing of sin, righteousness, and judgment. Continue therefore in prayer, but mingle your supplications with a deep humbling of your own soul. It may be that the Lord would use this very trial to expose what lurks within you, a root of bitterness, a seed of pride, a secret reliance on the arm of flesh. Humble yourself under the mighty hand of God, not with the sackcloth of outward show, but with the inward prostration of a creature before its Creator, a criminal before the Judge. Josiah humbled himself before God, and the Lord heard him. Many a man has prayed for the conversion of another and found that God was first sanctifying the suppliant through the fire.
Beware also of despising the day of small things. The Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword; a text long forgotten may suddenly pierce the conscience when the Spirit breathes upon it. The seeds now buried may lie dormant for a season, but the husbandman waits with patience. Let your faith be venturesome, crying, “Show Your marvelous lovingkindness!” Yet hold everything with an open hand, saying from the heart, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” God’s ways are in the deep. He may answer by bringing the straying one home with weeping and supplication, or He may answer by giving you a patience that outlasts the trial and a peace that surpasses understanding. In either case, the throne of grace remains open, and the blood of Jesus speaks better things than that of Abel. Look not so much to the wave as to the Christ who walks upon it. When your eye is fixed on Him, the storm becomes a pavement for your feet.
Finally, give your own heart wholly to God this very hour. The great commandment is not merely to pray for another’s heart, but to present your own as a living sacrifice. The Lord says, “My son, give Me your heart.” When that is done, you will find that the anxieties which gnaw at your peace are swallowed up in the sweetness of His love. Go often to the cross, and there see how He loved you, how He gave Himself for you; then you will be able to intercede without that fretful fever which so easily besets us. The God who spared not His own Son will with Him freely give us all things. Rest in this, and let your soul delight in the kisses of His mouth, for then your faith will become an anchor, sure and steadfast, while you wait for the morning.