I preached with very little power. God will not let me preach with power when I am not much with Him. More than ever I feel that I should be as much an intercessor as a preacher of the Word.
I have been taught that joy in the Spirit is the frame in which God blesses us to others, as joy arises from fellowship with Him.
Whatever sorrow of humiliation of spirit presses on us, it should give way, in some measure, to a fresh taste of God’s love when going forth to preach.
A time of much of God’s presence. . . . It was sweet to thank the Father for the plan of salvation revealed to us. It was sweet to thank the Son for becoming the Nazarite who was known in the streets and was gazed at as a spectacle of misery. It was sweet to thank the Spirit for revealing the Saviour, and to pray for His breath of life, while we drop our buckets into this well full of grace and holy love.
I do not think that I have opposed the leading of the Lord in recent matters. Oh, my God, never let me walk, even in the green pastures, without Thee! I feel glad to live as a pilgrim and a stranger, and to seek in prayer and strong crying in secret for God glorified in the salvation of souls.
I see that the prayers of so many friends who pray for me are, no doubt, the cause of my getting peculiar help in writing the memoir of M’Cheyne. The Lord sends help because of people praying for me.
Oh, brother, pray–in spite of Satan, pray–rather neglect friends than not pray; rather neglect breakfast than not pray. And we must not talk about prayer–we must pray in right earnest.