Troubled Because Finding No Enjoyment in Prayer

An active, earnest, devoted Christian worker was disturbed because she did not always find enjoyment in prayer. She did not intermit nor neglect prayer; hence her state of feeling, or of her lack of feeling, was not a result of her failure to be regular and faithful in her attention to this duty. But when the hour for prayer came she did not always heartily welcome it, nor regularly and really enjoy its privileges. This was a cause of grief to her, and she sincerely sought to find the reason for this, and to learn what it indicated. She asked herself,” Is this a proof of my spiritual decline? Ought I not to be at all times in such an attitude of spirit that it would be, not only my duty and privilege, but an occasion of conscious enjoyment to me, to go to my yfnDlng Iflo Bnjosment in praigcr

Father and tell him of my needs and desires, and confidently to ask his sympathy and help? Would not this be the case if I realized my duties and necessities as they are, and my Father’s love as it is?”

In her perplexity of mind over this matter, the disciple came with her trouble to me for judgment and counsel, and, stating the case to me, she asked me to tell her frankly if the lack was in her spiritual condition, and, if so, how it was to be remedied. I, knowing her earnestness of Christian character, and seeing her trouble as it was, said to her:

“According to your own statement of the case, your trouble is a physical one. You say you do not have enough of physical feeling about the matter, although you have not changed your opinions about your duty or privilege. The lack you lament is a lack of physical emotion or sensitiveness.”

“No, it is not a lack of physical sensibility that I lament; it is spiritual sensi-Mow to 2)eal with Boubts

tiveness that I should have in this matter. Prayer is a spiritual exercise.”

“Yes, but you are still in the body, and fatigue, exhaustion, and other conditions of the body, affect the spirit within the body. Being faithful and persistent in prayer is one thing, having enjoyment in that exercise is another thing. One shows the spiritual state, the other shows the physical condition. When Jesus was in Gethsemane, he asked his chosen disciples to watch with him while he prayed. But they fell asleep, and that more than once. Yet Jesus did not count John as lacking in love for him. He saw that what might seem to be a lowered spiritual tone was really an exhausted physical condition, and he said, * The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.* While we are in the flesh, the conditions of the spirit are affected by the conditions and surroundings of the flesh. Yet the spirit is lovingly considered by Him who knows us as we are. He sees it as it is rather than as it seems. And we must

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try to look at ourselves according to the same standard.”

The one whose mind was troubled because of her lack of enjoyment in prayer seemed to gain from this view of the case. As other believers have been similarly troubled, there may be a gain through its further considering.

Enjoyment, or a sense of enjoyment, is largely dependent on one’s physical condition. We cannot have a sense, or a consciousness, of positive enjoyment while in excruciating pain, nor while in utter exhaustion, and unable to frame words or to think consecutively. Yet even at such times one’s spirit can be just as truly faithful and devoted and loving as at any other time. One may be in spirit at such times as truly a good father or mother, or as loving a brother or sister or child, or as devoted a friend, or as self-sacrificing a patriot, or as consecrated a missionary, as while thrilling in every nerve with keenest enjoyment of the sacred privileges of the relation in which

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he or she is honored. The spirit of the relation is one thing, the sense or conscious feeling of enjoyment in that relation is quite another thing.

This applies to all spheres and practices in human life. Even in the primal and fundamental necessity of, and desire for, food and drink, it is much as it is in the higher and more ethereal cravings of our nature, — as for human affection and for human approval. So soon as a child comes to life, it comes to a craving for nourishment It must have nourishment because it lives, and if it would continue to live. An enjoyment in having this craving metis as natural to a normal child as is the craving itself And so on as one grows from childhood to maturity. But it is often the case that one comes to lack the conscious desire for food, or the conscious enjoyment in the meeting or satisfying of this desire. Yet this lack of conscious desire or of enjoyment is wholly physical, and in no sense spiritual. While I was in full health and jfinDitiQ mo jenjogmcnt in prater

vigor, I had, long years ago, through my army experience, and by my prolonged travel in desert and woods, come to do without a craving for food at regular times. In consequence, I could go all day without a sense of special desire for food. Yet I had the need of, apart from the desire for, nourishment. I would grow steadily weak from my lack, even while my long training had overcome my sense of desire for food at regular intervals. I could, in fact, starve to death without being hungry. Yet I was watchful of my needs and duty, and I took nourishment regularly at specified times. My lack of desire was a physical lack; but my having a care to take needful food regularly, and my gratitude for this privilege, evidenced so far my good spiritual condition. So, again, a loving Christian worker whom I knew, whose whole time was given to Christ, was by disease incapacitated from enjoyment in partaking of food. Each day his taking of the needful supply was a season of intense pain. He shrank from it; he suf-Wow to Deal with 5)oubt6

fered during it; it was to him only an occasion of unnatural effort. Yet he persevered through all, and this that he might have a little more physical strength for added spiritual work for his Master and for his dear ones. Rarely have I known one who showed such high spiritual devotion, in taking needful physical food without any resultant or incidental enjoyment in connection with it, as this noble sufferer. And he was but an illustration of the complete separation of duty-doing as a spiritual exercise, and of physical enjoyment in connection with that exercise.

Similarly in the matter of taking needful physical exercise in the open air. A willingness to perform the duty is one thing, finding enjoyment in that duty is another thing. The two things should not be confounded. A man who in his normal condition was peculiarly active, and seemed to enjoy exercise, had been so weakened by an extended illness that in his convalescence he found most pleasure in indoor

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occupations. His physician then directed him to take exercise out of doors.

“But, doctor, I have no desire to go out,” said the patient. “My enjoyment is found in my room. I have lost my old pleasure in being in the open air.”

“It is not a question as to what you enjoy or desire,” said the wise physician; “I want you to go out because I think it is best for you. You should make the effort for your own good, even if it is an unpleasant effort to you.”

And that case is an illustration of many cases in life as life is. The doing of duty is one thing, finding enjoyment while doing one’s duty is quite another thing. Doing as duty what one cannot find enjoyment in doing is often a test of manhood, and is sometimes an evidence of sainthood. In one’s school studies, and in one’s maturest exercise of high scholarship, it is often necessary to pore over books that one can find no enjoyment in. Much of our social intercourse has to be with persons in whom

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we can find no enjoyment. Indeed, it is oftener our duty to do that which we do not find pleasure in than that which is in itself to our liking. This being the case, our true attitude of spirit is better shown by our perseverance in duty-doing while we lack enjoyment or a sense of pleasure in a given occupation, than in our doing of that in which we find the highest enjoyment.

It is true that, if we persevere in right-doing while we have no pleasure or enjoyment in it, we may come to find added enjoyment in that very occupation. But that is a result and reward of doing our duty while we found no pleasure in such doing. We should not be disturbed because we do not have the full result of our best duty-doing at the beginning, or all the way along in our progress.