SA 37:7{An invalid was left alone one evening for a little while. After many days of acute pain there was a lull. "Now," she thought, "I shall be able to pray a little." But she was too wearied out and exhausted for this; feeling that utter weakness of mind and body which cannot be realized without actual experience, when the very lips shrink from the exertion of a whisper, and it seems too much effort of thought to shape even unspoken words. Only one whisper came: "Lord Jesus, I am so tired!" She prayed no more; she could not frame even a petition that, as she could not speak to Him, He would speak to her. But the Lord Jesus knew all the rest; He knew how she had waited for and wanted the sweet conscious communing with Him, the literal talking to Him and telling Him all that was in her heart. And He knew that, although a quiet and comparatively painless hour had come, she was "so tired" that she could not think. Very tenderly did He, who knows how to speak a word in season to the weary, choose a message in reply to that little whisper. "Be silent to the Lord!" It came like a mother's "hush" to one whom his mother comforteth. It was quite enough, as every Spirit-given word is; and the acquiescent silence was filled with perfect peace. Only real friends understand silence.
I am too weak for effort, so let me rest.
In hush of sweet submission, on Thine own breast.
I take this pain, Lord Jesus, as Thine own gift;
And true through tremulous praises I now uplift.
I am too weak to sing them, but Thou dolt hear
The whisper from the pillow, Thou art so near!