The Prayer That Follows Its Answer

‘‘ Before they call, I will answer.” — Isa. Ixy. 24.

HERE is a region of prayer in which the

gift comes before the request for it. The popular notion is that we first ask a thing and then get it. But in truth, with all spiritual desires, it is just the opposite; we first get a thing and then ask it. When a man prays for material comforts his request precedes his possession. But when he prays for spiritual comforts his possession precedes his request. There is a thirst which is really created by its partial gratification. When you cry for physical water it is because you are in want of water. But when you cry for the water of life it is because you have already tasted of the fountain; God has answered you before your call. The thirst for earthly water comes from parched lips; but the

thirst for God comes from lips already moistened,

That is what makes the hunger after righteousness a blessed thing. It can only come from possession. God alone can cry for God; heaven alone can desire heaven; goodness alone can crave goodness. There are prayers whose arrow is sped, not by the rainbow of night, but by the rainbow of morning. They are shot forth, not by the empty, but by the full, hand. My prayers for Christ are like the murmur of the shell; they are the voice of the parent sea within me. Their cry is a memory. They are not so much in search of something new as in touch with something old. They are not voices of my poverty, but of my wealth. They are not winged by the famine of the far country, but by the music and dancing of the Father’s house. Without the memory of that home all the scarcity of the swine-husks would never have evoked the cry, “I will arise, and go to my Father.”

Lord, I am longing for Thee, and thereby I know that I have found Thee. I could not call on Thee unless Thine answer had already come. I shrink from my crimson stains; but it is Thy light that has revealed them. I never should have known the famine unless I had tasted Thy bread. The land has not really become more destitute; it is I who have grown more exacting. There was as much famine yesterday, and I never felt it. Why do I feel it to-day? It is because I have tasted Thy bread. I never spoke of swine-husks until then. I learned my thirst from a cluster of the grapes of Eshcol. I learned my hunger from Thy manna in the wilderness. I learned my rags from the sight of Thy seamless robe. It is not my prayer that has brought Thine answer; it is Thine answer that has brought my prayer. I did not feel my darkness until I saw upon Thy hand the glittering ring — the ring prepared for me. I did not fear the silence until I heard upon the height the strains of merry music — the music meant for me. I did not experience the shame until I caught on the brow of morning the far-off gaze of Thy pursuing eye — the eye that sparkled for me. That is why my prayer is precious in Thy sight. Thou seest not its poverty but its promise, Thou beholdest not its sackcloth but its gold; for the ery has come from a head that is crowned, and the humility has been wakened by the summit of the hill.