f thoughts that passed through the Apostle's mind, in
reference to this burden that he had to carry, and may afford wholesome
contemplation for us to-day. There is, first, the instinctive shrinking
which took refuge in prayer. Then there is the insight won by prayer
into the sustaining strength for, and the purposes of, the thorn that
was not to be plucked out. And then, finally, there is the peace of
acquiescence, and a will that accepts--not the inevitable, but the
loving.

I. First of all we see the instinctive shrinking from that which
tortured the flesh, which takes refuge in prayer.

There is a wonderful, a beautiful, and, I suppose, an intentional
parallel between the prayers of the servant and of the Master. Paul's
petitions are the echo of Gethsemane. There, under the quivering olives,
in the broken light of the Paschal moon, Jesus 'thrice' prayed that the
cup might pass from Him. And here the servant, emboldened and instructed
by the example of the Master, 'thrice' reiterates his human and natural
desire for the removal of the pain, whatever it was, which seemed to him
so to hinder the efficiency and the fulness, as it certainly did the
joy, of his service.

But He who prayed in Gethsemane was He to whom Paul addressed his
prayer. For, as is almost always the case in the New Testament, 'the
Lord' here evidently means Christ, as is obvious from the connection of
the answer to the petition with the Apostle's final confidence and
acquiescence. For the answer was, 'My strength is made perfect in
weakness'; and the Apostle's conclusion is, 'Most gladly will I glorify
in infirmity,' that the strength or 'power _of Christ_ may rest upon
me.' Therefore the prayer with which we have to deal here is a prayer
offered to Jesus, who prayed in Gethsemane, and to whom we can bring our
petitions and our desires.

Notice how this thought of prayer directed to the Master Himself helps
to lead us deep into the sacredest and most blessed characteristics of
prayer. It is only telling Christ what is in our hearts. Oh, if we lived
in the true understanding of what prayer really is--the emptying out of
our inmost desire and thoughts before our Brother, who is likewise our
Lord--questions as to what it was permissible to pray for, and what it
was not permissible to pray for, would be irrelevant, and drop away of
themselves. If we had a less formal notion of prayer, and realised more
thoroughly what it was--the speech of a confidin