was traversing sea and land, preaching the gospel.  He was earning his own

living, sometimes labouring night and day with his own hands.  His sufferings

and trials were beyond measure, and upon him came the care of all the churches.

Yet he never left off praying!

The conventions of the faith are safeguards.  It is good to kneel or to

stand when we pray.  It is good to close the eyes and fold the hands; the

outside attitude should express the hidden spirit.  It is good to turn aside

from the things of daily life, withdraw to the quiet room alone in secret.  But

all these things may be dispensed with without touching the essence of prayer.

Paul could pray as he walked, as he talked, as he worked.  He could pray without

closing the watchful eye, or folding the labouring hand.  He could pray without

ceasing, serve without ceasing, labour without ceasing.  Let us not confound

true prayer with mysticism.  To kneel for a long time in silence may be the

highest form of worship, yet it may but numb the sensibilities and lay the

unguarded spirit open to invasion.  In some cases it is a form of self-deception

and pride,

`When Moses was gone into the tabernacle of the congregation to speak with

Him, then he heard The Voice Of One speaking unto him' (Num. 7:89).

It is never safe to omit the Word of God when we think of prayer.  lt is

the connection seen here in Ephesians 6:17,18, `the sword of the Spirit, which

is the Word of God: praying always'.

What is prayer?  Why do we pray?  Can we by prayer cause God to alter one

line of His purpose?  Can we add or subtract one name from the book of life?

Can we alter by one second the `appointed time'?  Would the Lord come one moment

sooner if all His people prayed that He would do so?  God's purpose will go on

to its glorious end whether we pray or whether we remain silent.  He is not like

the unjust judge who can be worried into action by sheer importunity.  That

which sometimes passes for piety may prove to be unbelief.  We remember many

years ago that our little one had prayed in her childish fashion that on some

particular day, weeks ahead, the weather might prove fine.  Nothing more being

mentioned, her mother reminded her saying, `You have not asked God any more

about the fine day you want'.  `Oh no, mother', was the response, `I told Him

once, and He won't forget'.

Prayer does not mean arguing with God, or trying to get our own way.

Prayer gives us access to God, fellowship with Himself.  Gives us insight into

His purposes, sends us out again into the turmoil of life with less anxiety,

with greater patience, with more sympathy.

`With a heart at leisure from itself,

To soothe and sympathize'.

Prayers are answered because God wishes His children to share His secrets,

and to trust Himself, but prayers never alter God's plans.  Prayer comes to God

with His own Word and says, like David, `Do as Thou hast said'.  Prayer is never

answered that is not in accordance with the will of God.  There are some things

that God Himself has placed at our disposal upon the condition that we `ask',

`seek', and `knock', but there is no more mystery about this than when the child

asks its parent for bread, or knocks at the door for entrance.