The Felt Loss of Christ

Some truths are piercing. The believer having to acknowledge the wanderingness of his heart. The wanderingness of our hearts. Prone. It’s not occasional. It’s not something that seldom occurs. It is a proneness. And we feel it, spiritually aware, feel it. “Prone to leave the God I love”—how can it be? How can it be? And so we afresh turn ourselves to the Lord.

John 20, please turn in the Word of God to the 20th chapter of John this morning. As we prepare ourselves through the preaching of the Word for our season of prayer today.

I mentioned yesterday with a brother who was out with us in the evangelism, I thought I had the message prepared. What night was that? Tuesday night. I thought I had—I know where I’m going. I know what I’m going to be preaching on, the Lord’s Day, trying to get ahead and so on. And then I was reading on—was it Thursday morning? I think I was reading in this portion on Thursday morning, I was like, “No, there’s something else that I think the Lord would have us consider,” something that struck my own heart. And so we’re going to read John 20 and read the opening 18 verses.

Just take time to take in this post-resurrection detail, record that the Holy Spirit gives to us. Familiar to many, I know, but let us read it, and let’s see what the Lord has, and may you have that cry of Samuel, “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.”

John 20, verse 1:

The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken away from the sepulchre. Then she runneth, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid him. Peter therefore went forth, and that other disciple, and came to the sepulchre. So they ran both together: and the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he stooping down, and looking in, saw the linen clothes lying; yet went he not in. Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and went into the sepulchre, and seeth the linen clothes lie, and the napkin that was about his head, not lying with the linen clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself. Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. Then the disciples went away again unto their own home.

But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God. Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things unto her.

Amen. May the Lord bless the reading of His Word.

This, beloved, is the Word of the eternal God, which you are to receive, believe, and obey. And the people of God said, “Amen.”

Let’s pray.

Lord, give help now. Come suddenly to thy temple, as it were. Be gracious, O God, to those with their burdens and their fears. We ask that thou wilt outshine and indeed overshadow every care of life by making thyself known.

Oh God, this is what this people need today. I don’t know all the needs of other churches across Greenville, but I know we need to see the Lord, and we need to hear from the Lord. And we need a visitation from the Lord, and we need a little reviving by the Spirit of the Lord. Come then, we pray. Facilitate all of that and more through the preaching of thy Word, we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

I know that some of you will have experienced the lamentation of the feeling of the Lord being distant from you. I don’t know that it may be true of all, but I’m certain it is true of many in this church. Awareness, acknowledgment that the Lord seems distant. This is something that is not new to the people of God.

While there’s certainly a danger that some believers can fall into, in which they live in a state of perpetual discontentment, or even spiritual melancholy, or an excessive introspection—though that may be true of some—it is also real that the Lord can feel distant and in some way be distant in a certain sense from His people. This is somewhat illustrated by the record that we have read here this morning.

As dawn breaks over Jerusalem, Mary’s soul sits in a midnight—a midnight of uncertainty, a midnight of loss. The stone is rolled away, the tomb is empty, but her one cry pierces the morning air: “They have taken away my Lord. They have taken away my Lord.”

She’s not debating doctrine; she’s grieving the loss of the whereabouts of her Savior’s body. And as we come to the day of prayer, I want us to be thinking about this question: Is the Lord more distant from me than should be the case? Is the Lord more distant from me than should be the case?

As I was going over my notes this morning, reflecting on this, my mind was drawn—and I’m not going to be able to quote it, I don’t think exactly—but I was reminded of Tozer’s remark and observation that every man has as much of God as he desires. Every man has as much of God as he desires.

He’s not talking there about the objective presence of God that never departs from His people. He’s talking about the experience of the people of God. And that’s not something to discount. As I say, it can be overstated. It can lead to an over-introspective living that is not helpful. But the fact that there can be an overreach in the wrong way doesn’t mean to say there isn’t merit to the fact that there can be and ought to be in the believer’s life a conscious awareness of the nearness of God in the life.

And to that, largely speaking, I think Tozer’s correct, that we have as much of that experience as we want—as we truly want. And this is something lacking today. There are very few who walk with an aura, with a sense of the abiding presence of God and the power that attends such.

I know it in my own soul. It is the lamentation of all lamentations. And if the Lord seems absent from you, then you must rise and search until you find. It’s as simple as that.

And I want us to share in not only some of the applications we can draw from Mary’s experience, but more to the point, get to the sense of the restoration—hearing from the Lord and knowing He’s there.

I have titled the message for today “The Felt Loss of Christ”—”The Felt Loss of Christ”—which I hope will encapsulate the thrust of the message, that there can be a felt loss.

Now, I want to just say, before I go any further, for younger people—and I mean the really young—this is a challenge. It is a challenge. And when you’re really young, there is just this simple childlike faith where you trust the Lord and you grow in some of these more subjective experiences.

But if you’re older, if you’re in your late teens and older, there ought to be a realization that the Lord not only is objectively with me, but subjectively I know and experience His presence in my life. This is something, of course, that the young Samuel had to realize. And it’s something that we all have to come to terms with as well—that the Lord ought to be in a felt way with His people and known and experienced.

So as we consider this, I want you to think first with me of the mystery of an absent Christ. The mystery of an absent Christ.

“They have taken away”—verse 13 is really the heart of what we’re saying, though we’ll draw from other portions of this chapter. When the angels say unto her, “Woman, why weepest thou?” She saith unto them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” They’ve taken Him away and I do not know where He is.

Mary’s immediate assumption is that Jesus’ body has been removed, has been stolen in some way, taken to another location. And while she does not yet grasp the resurrection, her response of profound distress and her concern for the physical presence of our Lord reflects something I think we can learn from.

Her declaration, “my Lord,” shows that this isn’t some corporate, mere distant corporate thing, but something she feels. “They have taken away my Lord.” She’s not saying He’s exclusively hers, but she feels the personal aspect of the believer’s walk. It’s not just “the Lord” or “our Lord,” but “they’ve taken away my Lord.” He is my Lord. The sense of relationship. It’s felt in that expression. It’s “my Lord,” and you should be saying the same. He is my Lord. “The Lord is my shepherd.”

A cry that simulates the fact that things can, as it were, carry the Lord away from us and leave us in mystery. Where has He gone? Where is He?

So, as we think of this mystery of an absent Christ, first consider that Christ may be hidden from us by worldly distractions. Christ may be hidden from us by worldly distractions.

Oh, we know this too well. The call of business, the pressure of the schedule, the distraction of screens and all the other things that seek after every moment of our day—among many other things—capable they are of smothering the sweetness of Christ’s presence. The crowding of legitimate responsibilities, entertainment—not all of it bad—or just spiritual lethargy towards the pursuit of God mutes the voice of the Lord in the life.

When’s the last time you read your Bible and it felt like there was a living God who was speaking to your heart? All of God’s Word is true. Every word is eternal and relevant. But again, if you’ve not yet experienced this, I pray you will. Of reading the Word and sensing “there’s a word for me. There’s a word right there.” That speaks to the need of me right now and where I am. “I need that rebuke.” Or “I need that comfort or that direction.”

And believers can go for weeks and months and maybe even—God forbid—years without being able to pinpoint and say, “That day I heard from God. He gave me a word. He spoke to me in a way that was undeniable.”

And so we have our lives so busy, so full. And if we long indulge in the crowding out of the Lord, and we give ourselves to the constant business and scheduling of our lives, of all these things—as I say, many may be legitimate, even all of them may be—yet, long indulged in this pattern, it will destroy the soul’s sense of Christ.

It is not always bold-faced rebellion. But sometimes the secret disloyalty of the heart that silently removes the Lord from view—an idol even that may be perceived as respectable. It’s not sinful in and of itself, but it’s a distraction and a rival to Christ. It’s rivaling against the position that the Lord desires.

And so we are called upon to love not the world. We’re in it, but not to love it, not to have affections overcome by it, not to have our lives so enveloped by it, because if we do that, the love of the Father is not in us. Something of that love toward the divine is not present.

So Christ may be hidden from us by worldly distractions. Assess your own life.

Also, Christ may be grieved by our sinful compromise. Christ may be grieved by our sinful compromise.

Communion with Christ and compromise cannot coexist. We might, again, conceal an idol, and it’s a different kind of idol. It’s one of bitterness, one of greed, one of lust. And it casts a shadow around us that the Lord distances Himself from. He’s not going to stay in that shadow with you.

You can’t keep Him right there while you’re harboring that bitterness, while you’re clamoring in a greedy fashion after something. If you’re making place for lust in the soul, it casts a shadow on the Lord. He goes away from that shadow. He will not abide in it with you.

“Can two walk together except they be agreed?” And He’s not in agreement. He’s not in agreement with these things within the soul. He’s not in agreement with the compromise, and so He distances Himself.

For as the language of Isaiah 59 says, “your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear.” This is direct language. The Lord is addressing those who ought to know better, and they go through these seasons, and they need to be told. “Your iniquities have separated.” It’s your iniquity. It’s you. It’s your doing. Don’t bring charges against God. Don’t suggest that Christ doesn’t care, but He cannot. Two cannot walk together except they be agreed. And so, He moves away.

Also, Christ may be obscured by spiritual warfare. Hidden from us by worldly distractions, grieved by our sinful compromise, obscured by spiritual warfare.

The devil is at work constantly as well. We can’t ignore that. He can’t dethrone Christ from heaven, but he will seek to dethrone Christ from your heart. And he’ll do everything in his power. He will accuse, he will confuse, he will distract. And we—Paul tells us—wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

And Satan is behind it all, constantly endeavoring to get one over, to destroy the Christian life lived at its best. Paul warns in 2 Corinthians 2:11 that Satan should get an advantage of us, for we are not ignorant of his devices. But it’s a potential threat.

So what might you be dealing with? What might be causing this cloud, this dark cloud in which you dwell, this sense where you have to acknowledge today that “that’s right, that’s right”? That as I was reading John 20, as I was struck in my own heart—for me, not thinking about you, for me—I’m reading devotionally. And that language of Mary just rang so true in my own heart. “They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.” Where are you, Lord?

So what might we be dealing with? Spiritual hindrances: Neglect of secret prayer, neglect of the Word, formality in worship, idolatry of doctrinal correctness, pride in past experiences. These things are spiritual things the Lord will not have participation with. You neglect prayer, you’re not going to enjoy Him. You neglect the Word, He’s not going to be there. You come in some formal way as if we’re just checking off some duty here on Lord’s Day, on Wednesday, any other occasion. He’s not interested. “These people draw nigh to me with their lips, but their heart is far from me,” He would say. Being proud of how doctrinally correct we are or what we’ve experienced in the past—these are hindrances. God wants nothing to do with them.

There are also fleshly and worldly hindrances: Again, addiction to entertainment, overwork and busyness, love of money and material security, sexual sins and secret vices of various sorts. He will not have anything to do with it. He will not be there. We think we can be addicted to things and giving ourselves to things—even legitimate, even our work—but we’re overworked. We’re intentionally or perhaps not drawing the lines and saying “this is encroaching into what I must give to the Lord.” We’re not drawing that line.

You see, love draws lines. Love will protect what matters in your time with the Lord.

There are also emotional, relational hindrances as well: Having personal hurts and unhealed wounds of the soul where, again, we’re bitter—bitter against someone. The Lord’s not interested. “Now sit there. You’re bitter within the soul.” Unforgiveness toward others. Clenching your fist toward man. That fist that clenches itself toward man cannot grasp Christ. Division, disappointment. The sheep often are so distracted by the doings of other sheep that they cannot see or hear the shepherd.

And there are other spiritual decline that come about as well that we need to be aware of: Losing a sense of the wonder of the gospel. Good news. It’s no longer good news. It’s just news. It’s information. “Christ died for the ungodly” is just information. It’s not good news. It doesn’t bring joy, ecstasy of the soul. “Can’t believe it that God sent His Son. He took on flesh. He died on the cross.” It’s just information.

Despair and unbelief and trial, ingratitude, self-righteousness, presumption that where we were in the past is certainly where we are today at the very least. Presumption—that’s what Samson did. He presumed. He wist not that the Lord had departed from him. He just got up thinking that everything was as it has been.

So when Christ feels absent, the fault is not in Him. It’s in your wanderings, it’s in your spiritual warfare. He is the same yesterday and today and forever. But the felt sense of His presence that waxes and wanes, it does so as we flirt with the world, we fetter ourselves to sin, or we fail to fight against our enemy.

So, the mystery of an absent Christ. Why is He gone? Why is He not here? I know the context of the passage is distinct, but the cry—the cry of the soul, the cry that you feel, though you be not historically in that garden with Mary—you understand the cry. “They have taken away my Lord.” These sins, these habits, these whatever it might be—they’ve taken away my Lord.

Secondly, the emotion due to an absent Christ. The emotion due to an absent Christ.

There is no questioning the emotion of Mary in this passage. “Woman, why weepest thou?” “Why weepest thou?” The language even conveys emotion, but there is no doubting it. She is weeping. They can see it. Her emotional state is raw, unbridled, and this is at the heart of it.

It’s there in verse 2 and verse 13: “They have taken away my Lord.” “They’ve taken Him away.” It’s a singular focus, a sense of loss. Something’s absent that ought not to be.

And the angels then inquire, “Why weepest thou?” Why? Maybe that’s you. Someone looks at you today. And I know, I know, because I preach this. I preach it to myself. “The joy of the Lord is our strength.” That buoyant way in which joy in the Lord keeps us afloat and enables us to stare at our challenges in faith and trust and look at the burdens and cares and say, “The Lord has this.” And that ought to be the case.

But there’s a season, there’s a place for a season where there’s a weeping because of the “Where’s the Lord?” We don’t want to so overemphasize joy that we diminish the legitimacy. Mary’s not wrong. She’s not wrong in the sense of—she’s wrong in not understanding what’s going on. There’s many things she doesn’t get. But she’s not wrong to stay there in the garden and just, “Where is He?” The whole heartbeat of her life was Jesus Christ.

And so this emotion is seen as she mourns the loss of communion. This emotion is seen as she mourns the loss of communion.

While Mary could not have expected any kind of interaction with the body of Christ, the loss of Christ’s body along with the loss of His voice was compounding her experience. “If at least I can be near to Him in His physical presence.” And so her heart is crying out like the psalm that we sang this morning: “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God.”

That’s how she felt. Sadly, much of the professed church doesn’t even understand the cry of the psalmist like that. They don’t even get it. They don’t even pause to think about it. They most don’t even get to that part of their Bible to read it. “My soul thirsteth for God.”

Maybe you were once so full of life for Christ, so zealous, so heartfelt, nothing was too much. No time of prayer was a burden. No reading of the Scripture was a mere duty. It was a delight. Maybe it wasn’t that long ago when the smile of Christ was as light to your soul. His Word was the diet of your life, His presence your most treasured possession.

But where is He? Where is He today? Honestly, where is He today?

If this doesn’t apply to you, if you’re coming off of days of really dwelling with the Lord and enjoying the sense of His presence, then praise God. May it be sustained. May your mountaintop with Him be as real as it was for Moses. That when you come down, it would be as your face shone.

But I fear for at least some, there’s a need for recovery. Don’t be numb to it. Mourn it. Mourn it. She is emotive because she feels a loss of communion. The body may have at least given some kind of encouragement that she might minister unto it, be near to it.

You know, she’s not wrong. I think sometimes we can take on a bad doctrine in the sense that, you know, if you think of Mary, when she says, “They have taken away my Lord,” you say, “Well, when someone’s dead, it’s just a corpse. It’s not them.” Sometimes that’s said at funerals. “It’s not them.”

They’re wrong. They are wrong. It is them. It’s not all of them, but it is them. That body is theirs, belongs to Christ, and will be raised. So it wasn’t wrong for Mary even as she in her mind was reflecting upon the corpse. “They have taken away my Lord.”

This emotion also is seen as she confesses her confusion. She confesses her confusion. “They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” And Jesus comes in verse 15. “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?”

I love that. I love that little addition. He knows, He knows. She’s not weeping because of some thing that happened in the sense of, you know, something that’s detached from a personality. Right? The weather wasn’t what you expected, or something else, you know. “Whom seekest thou?” “I know you’re looking for someone.”

Oh, that was—that should have been a little indication. “You’re seeking for someone, I know.” She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, “Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.” “I know, I know he’s somewhere. Where is he?” But she’s confused.

Maybe that’s where you are today. You’re confused too. You’re confused because you don’t know how to recover, how to get the Lord back. You’re sitting here this morning in a state of bewilderment because you say, “Preacher, I know exactly what you’re saying. And I’ll be honest with you, it’s been years since I had that sense of His nearness.” And it’s so long, I have no idea how to get it back.

Oh, that you would have the language of the bride of the Song of Solomon. “Oh, that I knew where I might find him.” That’s what she felt. “Oh, that I knew where I might find him.” Maybe that’s your question.

Well, if you go back to what we addressed already, you’re going to find certain things have driven Him away. If you address those things, you’re well on your way.

But also this emotion is seen as she persists in her pursuit. She persists in her pursuit. She doesn’t just disappear when the angels speak to her. She doesn’t run from the garden. She stays, she lingers near the place where He was last known to be. She’s persisting.

And this is what we must do—persist, persist. There are other disciples left and went back to another place. But not Mary, no. No, I’m not going to leave that easily. No, this matters too much to me. She is not indifferent. She’s desperate. She longs. And would that we would feel the same, that longing, that sense of desperation, that the silence of heaven would cause her heart to rise, “Oh Lord, return.”

The angels question her, and as glorious as they are, they are not whom she’s looking for. She’s not taken up by these beings. They don’t satisfy what she’s after. I know that we would get that too, because I fear there are substitutes that will satisfy the longing of the soul, and that’s what the devil will give us. The devil will supply the substitute even to—even to the extent of something akin to being angelic—as long as it’s not Jesus. He’ll give us all sorts of things so that we might feel satisfied and stop asking the question, “Where is He?”

He only will suffice. Again, the bride of Solomon: “I sought him, but I found him not. I called him, but he gave me no answer.” But she’s pursuing. Later on in the same song, “I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love”—you let him know.

Sense of desperation, longing for the Lord. Beloved, there’s a part of the believer’s life that is to be like this. We are to seek Him earnestly, really. And if we can say that He’s missing, it’s a problem that needs to be addressed. That He’s not as near as He once was is an issue that cannot be ignored, or at least ought not to be ignored.

And I fear at times we can sit here in a meeting like this, listen—we can sit in a meeting like this and hear a message and say, “Good word. I understand what the preacher is saying.” But we do nothing with it. “The Lord is missing. Yeah, it’s true.” But we treat it like a sock missing in the laundry, where we turn and we say, “Oh, it’ll turn up sometime.”

That’s not what we do when a loved one’s missing. When a loved one’s missing, everything’s set aside. We call every possible place. We contact every potential person who might know. “Where are they?” And we don’t stop until we know, we’ve located them.

That, beloved, is how we are to pursue Him.

Thirdly, and finally, the reconnection with an absent Christ. The reconnection with an absent Christ.

You see it in verse 16: “Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master.” The pivotal moment. The life-changing experience of one personal word from Christ. Doesn’t need a clap of thunder, doesn’t need a bolt of lightning, doesn’t need the earth to open up to know that He is there. One personal word. “Mary.”

A familiar voice, unparalleled in sympathetic tones. A voice that communicates understanding, knowledge, love. Oh, how we need to hear from Him. Not in some theological treatise, but an intimate calling of your name. There is no tonic like the self-revelation of Christ to His people.

So, what is it we see here in this reconnection? First, He comes to the seeking soul. He comes to the seeking soul.

The shepherd never loses a sheep. He may test the sheep, he may tarry at times, but he will not abandon. And with a single word, he will pierce through the darkness of the soul. Mary is to hear that voice that once drove demons out of her. And now is the indication that he is drawn near to her.

Her comfort was not in any explanation about what had happened. She doesn’t sit there annoyed with him. “What has gone on? What’s happened?” Trying to get some grasp of everything. The comfort was immediate with His presence. The restoration of His presence. That was it.

Oh, how we long amidst all the things that trouble us and all the challenges and all the doubts and the fears. And we’re looking for some silver bullet. And sometimes as we’re ministering to other people, we’re doing the same thing. We’re trying to find the silver bullet, the right thing to say. And the prayer needs to be His presence. The Word from the Lord, His presence, casts all the doubt away.

Oh, may none of us, none of us truly washed in the blood of Christ doubt or question or think to ourselves that He has gone from us entirely. Oh, how the devil would try to drive that home. “Oh, you haven’t—the preacher’s talking about something you haven’t known a long time. Maybe you’re not even saved.”

You know how you answer the devil in that accusation? You know how you answer it? You do what nothing controlled by demons will do. You pursue Christ. That’s what Mary was doing. She just kept pursuing, and He came near to the seeking soul.

While He may withdraw the blessing of His felt presence, it will never be the departure or the end of the bond of His covenant love. He is not going to forsake, and this is why the search for Christ is never in vain, because the bond is sealed in His blood. “When ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29).

He comes to the seeking soul. That’s what we’re doing today, right? Prayer is seeking. He said, “I’ve been so busy of late. I haven’t been able to correct this issue. I know exactly what you’re saying. I know exactly. I need to spend time and seek Him.”

Well, it’s right in front of you today.

He also commissions the restored heart. He doesn’t just leave us there. He commissions the restored heart. The grace of His presence does not end with the joy we feel. “Go to my brethren,” verse 17. “Say unto them”—go with a message.

And you see the order, that the service of Christ must be preceded by the presence of Christ. That the best kind of service we do for the Lord is always—has at its head—meeting with Him. That’s what we need. We need to meet with Him.

Moses, how are you going to lead the children of Israel? He needs to meet with God first. Jacob, how are you going to face your fears? You come face to face with your brother. Last you heard, he wants to kill you. How do you serve to protect your family here? Meet with God. Isaiah, you’re going to go to a people who have no interest in hearing anything you have to say. How do you go to serve? For years, for decades he served in the face of tremendous opposition and disappointment. What does he need? To meet with God.

And the apostles so desire to go and preach the gospel, Jesus says, “Tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem”—you need to meet with God before you go. And when we meet with Him, then we go.

And I think this is the problem sometimes. We get tired in serving. We get tired in our labor. We do. We get tired with duties in the family, responsibilities in the church. We get tired with all sorts of things. And we say, “I just, I just need a vacation.”

But it’s not often the case. You need to hear His voice. You need to hear His voice. That voice that comes and prepares you. And so you say like Isaiah, “Here am I; send me.” Because you’ve met with Him, you’ve heard from Him.

So if you’re even exhausted, if you find yourself—I’m preaching—I’m just exhausted. “Lord, I’m just tired.” Then again, it’s an indication. You need to hear from Him afresh.

He commissions a restored heart. “Go to my brethren.” You, Mary. You’re not an apostle, but I have a work for you. Because you have met with me and they haven’t yet. So you’re the only one in the place who can truly go and minister. So go.

And she went. She was empowered.

Oh, believer, if your soul is dull, your affections are low, your prayers are cold, and Christ is distant, do not rest until the breach is healed. He comes to the seeking soul. He comes to the seeking soul.

“How can I get Him back?” Seek Him. “What if He doesn’t come today?” Then keep seeking. “What do I do if He does come?” Keep seeking. We stop seeking. We stop. We pray, but we’re not seeking. We’re in His house, but we’re not seeking. We’re at the place of prayer, but we’re not seeking.

Seek Him. Oh, if this day of prayer can facilitate a reconnection, a rediscovery with one who has been absent from your life, then its value will be more than can be quantified.

So where’s your Lord? Where? Where is He? Do you know where He is? Or do you have to say, “They have taken away my Lord.” Those sins have taken away my Lord. That bitterness has taken away my Lord. Those distractions have taken away my Lord. The busyness of life, the late nights, the neglect of the Word have taken away my Lord. My perfunctory performance in the place of public worship—they’ve taken away my Lord. My pride at my performance and my position and my past—they have taken away my Lord.

And this church will not go forward unless we seek Christ and He comes to us. And it’s on every individual to take the personal responsibility of that.

But hear me, “He is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart.” “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” He that dwelleth on high and who inhabits eternity comes to the humble who tremble at His Word. We should have no doubt. We should not be pessimistic concerning our Lord’s willingness to meet with us, yea, to meet with you today.

He’s not busy. He’s not too busy. He’s not saying “it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t really matter that that person feels that I’m distant.” No, it matters to Him. It really matters to Him. And He looks—yea, He pierces into your soul today. And He says, “Just seek me. I will come. Just seek me.” His felt presence.

“Our fathers have told us what things God did for them.” He will do it for us. We just must seek Him. Acknowledge the distance and the reasons why and turn.

Don’t let the fellowship time, don’t let it take away what you need to carry into the season of prayer.

Let’s bow before the Lord.

Now would be a good time just to beg the Lord to come to us in our season of prayer. Oh, may there be broken hearts here today. Too much is at stake.

Hear us. We say that we believe, yet help thou our unbelief. Give strength. We are so weak, prone to wander. “Lord, I feel it”—prone to leave the God I love. Please, Lord, please, Lord, come here today.

Thou hast in this place a people who are thine. Take us up again. Hear our prayer, bless our fellowship. Be with us today. We ask in Jesus’ name.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus, the love of God our Father, and the fellowship of the Spirit be the portion of all thy people now and evermore. Amen.