Think of it—what multitudes of prayers have poured from your lips since you first learned to pray! That very first prayer was for yourself, wasn't it? You begged God to have mercy, to blot out your sin. And he heard you.

But when he erased your sins like a cloud, did the prayers stop? No! You had more prayers, always more. You prayed for sanctifying grace, for constraining and restraining grace. You craved fresh assurance of faith, the comfortable application of his promises. You pleaded for deliverance in the hour of temptation, for help in the time of duty, for succor in the day of trial. You've been compelled to go to God for your soul, a constant beggar asking for everything.

Bear witness, children of God! You have never been able to get anything for your souls elsewhere. All the bread your soul has eaten has come down from heaven. All the water it has drunk has flowed from the living rock—Christ Jesus the Lord. Your soul has never grown rich in itself. Never! It has always been a pensioner upon the daily bounty of God, and so your prayers have ascended to heaven for a range of spiritual mercies all but infinite.

Your wants were innumerable, and therefore the supplies have been infinitely great. Your prayers have been as varied as the mercies have been countless. Then have you not cause to say, "I love the Lord, because he has heard the voice of my supplication"? For as your prayers have been many, so also have been God's answers to them. He has heard you in the day of trouble, has strengthened you, and helped you—even when you dishonored him by trembling and doubting at the mercy-seat.

Remember this, and let it fill your heart with gratitude to God, who has thus graciously heard your poor weak prayers. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits!"