Why do you cry out so loudly that your prayer must be answered, yet you still fix your eyes on the tempest of mockers and the noise of insults? You have asked for mercy, and this is good, for nothing else is needed. But tell me, why does the soul that runs to Christ look back to measure the malice of men? When Peter stepped out of the ship at the command of the Lord, he walked on the water, but when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid and began to sink. Even so, you cry, Lord, save me, and immediately His hand is stretched forth. Yet you still watch the waves, still calculate the strength of the storm. The prayer that is truly set on Jesus does not pause to accuse the elements or the scoffers on the shore. It fixes the gaze solely on Him who commands the seas.
You have resolved that the prayer must now be unspoken, known only to God, and this is not without wisdom. For when the two blind men cried out in the open street, He did not answer them there, but He led them into the house, away from the multitude, and there He asked them, Believe ye that I am able to do this? According to their faith it was done unto them. So do not fear the privacy of your petition. The heart that flees from public clamor to be alone with the Lord is the heart that finds healing in the inner chamber. Yet take heed that your silence is not born of bitterness toward the one you call a malicious element seeking self-praise. For if you brood on the insult, the silence becomes not a sanctuary for faith, but a workshop for resentment. The charge you lay against the mocker reveals that his words have found a lodging in your mind, and while you claim to believe the prayer is answered, you are still fighting the battle as if the victory were uncertain. This is a mark of an unsound and wavering conviction.
You ask for mercy, and indeed the mercy of God is a vast sea, a grace exceeding abundant. It is not confined to the mere remission of punishment; it seeks to make us righteous, sons, heirs, joint-heirs with Christ. But what is the prerequisite for this flood of grace? The Apostle tells us it is with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus. This is the contribution we offer: to believe that He is able to save us. Do you truly believe, or do you demand that He act according to your fears? You seek mercy for a hidden matter, and Christ is willing, but He says to you even now, Wherefore didst thou doubt? The doubt is not merely in the outcome of the request; the doubt is revealed in your intense focus on the mocker. You have allowed him to become a judge over the power of God in your life, as if his ridicule could seal up the Red Sea that Moses was commanded to open.
Therefore, if you would obtain mercy, show yourself a vessel of mercy. You wish to be blessed in secret; then bless in secret, even that enemy who has troubled your peace. If you continue to examine his motives and publish his insults in your heart, you are building a gallery of offenses and adorning it with your sorrow. How can you ask God to forgive the hidden debt you bring to Him, when you are busily counting the debts of another? The measure you give is the measure you receive. Only the merciful obtain mercy. Let your prayer be unspoken, yes, but let it be accompanied by the unseen work of forgiveness. Cast aside the catalog of wrongs. Step out of the ship of your public distress and look to Christ Jesus and to no other. He is our Lord and theirs. Fix your faith there, and the waters that terrify you will become a solid path, even if no other eye sees the miracle.