I Must Pray More by Nesme

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 14, 1863

I Must Pray More.

By Nesme

I habitually feel this necessity, but the other day the conviction came to my mind with strange power, and I said with greater emphasis than ever, I must pray more. It struck me with indescribable wonder that so little time should be employed, and so little energy expended in prayer, even by those who are prompt to acknowledge its dignity as a privilege, and its efficacy as a means of obtaining good. It is not now as it was in patriarchal times. We do not pray as Jacob did. He wrestled until the breaking of the day. Yes his praying was wrestling, and it lasted all night. We put forth no such power in prayer, and we do not allow the repose of our nights to be interrupted by it. It is not because our wants are all supplied that we are so feeble and brief in prayer—nor is it that God's bounty is exhausted. We are, as poor as creatures ever were, and He as rich, and as munificent as ever. His hand is not shortened, neither his ear heavy.

Only think how small a portion of each successive day is spent in prayer. I wonder if any Christian ever thought of it, without being so dissatisfied as to resolve that he would spend more time in prayer the next day. Just add together the minutes you daily occupy in supplication, and the kindred exercises of devotion, scriptural reading and meditation, and see to what it will amount. Will the sum total be one hour? What? less than an hour a day in devotion?—not one twenty-fourth part of time! And is this all which can be afforded? Let us see. How much time has business? Could not a little be saved from business for prayer? Do you not give an hour or two more to business every day than it absolutely requires? Then how much time has sleep, for the refreshment of the body? Might not some little time be redeemed from sleep and spent in prayer, with more profit to the whole man than if it were given to repose? Would not the soul thereby obtain a rest which would most favorably re-act on the body? I do not believe that the Psalmist suffered any thing in the day for the hours of night he spent in communing on his bed with his own heart and with God. I do not believe that even "tired nature" had any reason to complain of that interruption of the repose due to her. I suspect he enjoyed as good health, and was as vigorous through the day as we, though he arose at midnight to give thanks unto God, and prevented the dawning of the morning with his prayer. Such interruptions of sleep are no loss even to the body. I am sure, and I think no one can doubt, that considerably more time might be afforded for prayer than is actually given to it. If we take none from business and none from sleep, yet could not some be spared from the table, or conversation, which is not always the most profitable? Perhaps some of us spend more time in barely receiving the body's nourishment, than we do in the entire care of the soul! But not to dwell to tediousness on this topic. You have only to look back on a day, to perceive how much of it might have been spent in prayer and devotion without interfering with any thing which ought not to be interfered with.

Seeing then that we can pray more—that time can be afforded for it, I am amazed that we do not pray more. If prayer was nothing but a duty, we ought to pray more. We do not pray enough to discharge the mere obligation of prayer. We are commanded to pray more than we do, aye, to pray "without ceasing." But prayer, while it is a duty, is rather to be viewed by us in the light of a privilege. And O, it is such a privilege! What a favor that we may petition God and ask of him eternal life, with the confidence that we shall not ask in vain! How strange it is that we no more value and exercise this privilege of prayer! It is astonishing that the sense of want, or the desire of happiness, does not carry us oftener to a throne of grace, and that we should ever require to be incited to prayer by the stimulus of conscience. Oh! I wonder that we do not oftener go unto the King, whose gracious sceptre is ever extended toward us—I wonder we have not more frequent and longer interviews with our heavenly Father. It is strange we do not pray more, when prayer is the easiest way of obtaining good. What is so easy as to ask for what we want? How could we receive blessings on cheaper terms? Surely it is easier than to labor, and less expensive than to buy. It may be hard to the spirit to ask of men. To beg of them you may be ashamed. But no such feeling should keep you aloof from God. He giveth and upbraideth not.

But prayer is not merely the easiest way of obtaining good. It is the only way of obtaining the greatest of all good. The subordinate necessaries of life we get by labor or purchase; but the things we most need are given in answer to prayer. The one thing needful is a divine donation. We ask, and receive it. Now we labor much. Why do we not pray more? Do we seek a profitable employment? None is so profitable as prayer. No labor makes so large a return. If you have an unoccupied hour—and you have many, or might have by redeeming time,—you cannot employ it in any way that shall tell so favorably on your interests as by filling it up with petitions to God. Yet when we have such an hour, how apt we are to spend it in unprofitable intercourse with our fellows, rather than in communion with God. It is wonderful that we talk so much, when, "the talk of the lips tenderly only to penury," and pray so little, when prayer "brings a quick return of blessings in variety."

Is there any thing attended by a purer pleasure than prayer? One who knew, said, "It is good for me to draw near to God"—and again, "It is good to sing praises unto our God: for it is pleasant, and praise is comely." All the exercises of devotion are as full of pleasure as they are abundant in profit.

But prayer is not only a means of getting good. It is such a means of doing good, that I wonder our benevolence does not lead us to pray more. We are commanded, "as we have opportunity," to do good unto all men. Now prayer affords us the opportunity of being universal benefactors. Through God we can reach all men. We can make ourselves felt by all the world, by moving the hand that moves it. In no other way can we reach all. Prayer makes us, in a sense, omnipresent and omnipotent. It prevails with Him who is both.

The world needs your intercessions. It lies in wickedness. Zion needs them. She languishes because few pray for her peace; few come to her solemn assemblies. Whose family needs not the prayers of its every member? Who has not kindred that are out of Christ? With such a call upon us for prayer so urgent, and from so many quarters, I wonder we pray no more.

I must pray more, for then I shall do more—more for God, and more for myself; for I find that when I pray most, I accomplish more in the briefer intervals between my devotions, than when I give all my time to labor or study. I am convinced there is nothing lost by prayer. I am sure nothing helps a student like prayer. His most felicitous hours—his hours of most successful application to study, are those which immediately follow his seasons of most fervent devotion. And no wonder. Shall the collision of created minds with each other produce in them a salutary excitement, and shall not the communion of those minds with the infinite intelligence much more excite them, and make them capable of wider thought and loftier conceptions?

I must pray more, because other Christians, whose biography I have read, have prayed more than I do.

God is disposed to hear more prayers from me than I offer; and Jesus, the Mediator, stands ready to present more for me.

If I pray more I shall sin less.

I will pray more. The Lord help to fulfill this resolution.