[Andrew Bonar’s Diary 1860]

It is my deepest regret that I pray so little. My heart ever feels the blessedness of prayer, and yet prays little. I should count the days, not by what I have of new instances of usefulness, but by the times that I have been enabled to pray in faith, and to take hold upon God. I see that unless I keep up short prayer every day throughout the whole day at intervals, that I lose the spirit of prayer. I would never lose sight any hour of the Lamb in the midst of the throne, and if I have this sight, I shall be able to pray.

I see that I have been declining much in personal love to God. I pled this morning to be able to love the Lord better far than I do, getting more joy from Him alone, more than from books, or preaching, or dong good.

Weary today in spirit, but going forth toward the Lord in real desire, and not drawn aside by anything else than what is of Him. Lord, this may be a year of Thy working–our blessing is to come. Spirit of Life, work–breathe–create!

When Robert M’Chene died seventeen years ago, I thought how far advanced I should be in the way if spared a little, but I seem to be just about where I was then. My soul groans at the thought, and my only refuge from the pain of it is that the Lord is my righteousness, and I am complete in Him.

I feel that there is prayer in just our resolve to seek the Lord’s face, even though not saying much. It is the ‘rod’ help up to heaven against which Amalek cannot prevail. It is saying, “Lord, our hope is all in Thee.” When in prayer this day, my heart really yearned for God. O, that I knew Him and possessed Him as my soul desires!

As to personal love toward Thee, mine is cold–increase it, Lord, and let Thy Spirit fill this temple, and glorify Thou in me.

– Andrew Bonar

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