The prayer you have breathed is heard as surely as if it were uttered with a trumpet’s sound. Those silent groanings that never form themselves into words are known to the heart of God, and He prizes the secret, inward wrestling of the soul above the loudest public petition that lacks the fire of sincerity. Oftentimes the holiest prayer is that which is presented within the closed shrine of the spirit, like the blink of an eye, done intuitively, yet done, and prevailing with the Most High. Do you think you must always form sentences and gather arguments? Not so! A glance heavenward, a sigh, a swelling of the heart that has no voice, these are arrows that pierce the clouds when shot from a soul that abides in Christ.
Yet I would gently stir you up, that you do not rest in these silent requests as though they were the whole of your communion, but let them be as constant sparks flying upward while the fire of your vocal and gathered prayers burns steadily on. The brief, silent dart of prayer is mighty for sudden needs, but the believer must also set aside seasons to pour out the heart fully before the Lord, pleading His promises with humble argument. And mark you, when you bring your silent petitions, spread them out as remembrancers before the throne, saying, “Lord, You have promised; now do as You have said.” That is faith’s way of reminding God. The promise is the ore; prayer is the hammer that beats it into current coin for your use.
Fear not if the answer seems delayed. Even the dear Master cried in the daytime and was not heard, and in the night seasons He was not silent, yet He still trusted. Let not a sense of your own unworthiness drive you from pleading. A child does not run from its mother because it needs washing; rather, it clings closer. So bring your secret desires, your unuttered burdens, and cast them at the pierced feet. And remember, the sweetest prayer Heaven ever hears is that which intercedes for others. I charge you, let your silent season hold up the needs of the church, the lost, the afflicted, for such prayer is the breathing of Christ’s own Spirit within you. This is your watchman’s post; give Him no rest till He make Jerusalem a praise in the earth. Go now, and let your silence be as a perpetual incense, rising from the altar of your heart, in Jesus’ name.