You have watched him, and it has made your spirit ache, to see a soul so close, yet so far from the one thing that makes life life. You have had dealings with this man over rent and repairs, and you have glimpsed behind the business a great vacancy, a heart that does not know what it was made for. It troubles you, and that very trouble is a thing to thank God for, because it means your own heart has been touched by the love you wish he knew.
The blindness you speak of is real. A man may see the roof over his head, the ledger in his hand, and the tenant at his door, and yet never see the hand that holds all things. The natural heart has no window toward God. It can take in a world of facts and duties and still miss the one great Fact that stands behind them all, that Jehovah is God, and that His name is Love. You cannot argue a soul into that discovery any more than you can reason a stone into a spring. Only He who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” can shine into that dim room and make a man know in his heart what before he only heard with his ears. That is our hope for your landlord, and it is a strong hope, because it rests not on the man’s seeking but on the Lord’s seeking. The great Husbandman does not wait for the soil to soften itself; He sends the rain and breaks the clods. So we may pray with confidence that He will direct a heart that to us seems hard as a pavement.
Do not think that the emptiness you see in him is too deep for filling. Have you never noticed how Scripture delights to work with empty vessels? The widow in the prophet’s day had nothing in the house but a pot of oil, and that little pot was the seed of a harvest that paid all her debts and kept her sons alive. Emptiness is the very thing God chooses to work upon, because then there is no rival claimant to His glory. Your landlord may be full of business and full of self, but as for the love of God, his heart is an empty jar, and empty jars are what the Lord fills. He does not ask us to bring a brimming cup; He asks us to bring the void, the need, the poverty. The man who thinks he has no need of a physician is harder to reach than the one who knows he is sick, but even the proud and blind are not beyond the surgery of the Spirit. He who formed the eye can clear it.
So do not let your prayers grow weary. Every sigh for this man’s soul is a little whisper that has its echo in the Father’s heart. The Lord knows how to make a love letter find its way into a hand that would never reach for it. He can slip a thought through the cracks of a busy day, a sudden wonder, a momentary pang of loneliness in the midst of plenty. He can make a man look at the house he owns and ask, for the first time, whose house it really is, and who keeps his breath in his nostrils. When that moment comes, when the soul begins to feel that there is a Landlord above all landlords, to whom all accounts must be rendered, then the empty heart will learn what it has been missing. And what it has been missing is no distant lawgiver but a Father who says, “My son, give Me your heart.” He does not need our hearts to make Himself richer; He wants them because He wants sons and daughters, and the love of a returned child is a treasure to Him beyond all the cattle on a thousand hills.
May the Lord direct this man’s heart, then, into a wide, sweet, personal discovery of that love. And may He steady your own heart while you wait and pray. You are not sending up arrows into the dark; you are speaking to One who hears, and who once drew you with cords you could not see. The same hand is not shortened.
Let us ask Him now.
Lord Jesus, Thou who once did stand at the door of every shut heart and still dost knock with a patience that wears out our impatience, look upon this one who knows so little of the worth of love. He does not see that the roof over his head and the ground beneath his feet belong to Thee, and that every mercy he has enjoyed is a love-token from a hand he has never blessed. Fill his empty heart, we pray Thee. Do what only Thou canst do, make him know that Thou art Jehovah, the God of all grace, who delightest not in the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn and live. And while Thou art working in him, comfort Thy child who prays. Let not the waiting be bitter, but let it be a season of quiet trust, resting in the sweet assurance that Thou lovest him far better than we ever could, and that Thou wilt call Thine own out of darkness into marvelous light. We leave this soul and all our burdens in Thy pierced hands. Amen.