A Problem with Prayer
I have a problem with prayer. The older I get, the more I realize that throughout my life, I have treated prayer like a magic formula. If I could get the order of the words just right or say the right words, then my wish would come true. I treated God like a powerful wizard with the ability to change the course of my life. If I prayed hard enough, and if he was feeling benevolent, then maybe I would be “blessed.” Jesus was treated like a fairy godfather. If I was contrite enough and wished for the right things (because praying feels like making wishes), then he would wave his magic wand over me and fix my problems.
My prayer life made it look like I was trying to live in a fairy tale.
When I put aside the notion that prayer isn’t a magical incantation, the notion that if I prayed in exactly the right way, I would get what I want, my problem with prayer became even more complex. If God isn’t a genie in a lamp, waiting around to grant my wish (prayer), then what am I supposed to pray for?
When friends ask for prayer for a sick loved one, how am I supposed to pray if I don’t believe that God heals some people and not others? I don’t believe that God blesses some people with riches and prosperity while keeping others in their place of poverty, so how do I pray for relief for those who are suffering?
Letting go of the notion that God is pulling the strings, answering some prayers and not others, and micromanaging our lives leaves me feeling alone and untethered. Many times I start to pray and then think, What’s the point? I used prayer like a magic lamp for so long that trying to talk to God in a way that doesn’t feel like I’m wishing on a star left me not knowing what to say.
In the Gospel of Matthew (chapter 6), Jesus gives instruction on how to pray. In a nutshell, he wants us to keep it simple, keep it private, and keep it humble. The Message translation does a wonderful job of helping me find purpose in prayer:
“And when you come before God, don’t turn that into a theatrical production either. All these people making a regular show out of their prayers, hoping for fifteen minutes of fame! Do you think God sits in a box seat?
“Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.
“The world is full of so-called prayer warriors who are prayer-ignorant. They’re full of formulas and programs and advice, peddling techniques for getting what you want from God. Don’t fall for that nonsense. 8This is your Father you are dealing with, and he knows better than you what you need.
Jesus then goes on to teach us what we now know as The Lord’s Prayer as an example:
Our Father, who is in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.
The verse that keeps coming back to me is number 8: “Your Father knows the things you need before you ask him” (CSB).
On the days when words won’t come or grief won’t allow me to formulate a coherent thought, I let my feelings be my prayer. Taking a walk at night, when I know the streets will be quiet, allows me to process what I’m feeling and push them out into the air around me. I let the rhythm of my steps and my breath be in charge of my anger or grief or frustration. I remember Christ’s promise that God knows what I’m dealing with and knows, even better than I can imagine, what I need. Sometimes the feelings turn into a conversation or even a rant. Sometimes I rail at God because I know God can take it. Sometimes my brokenness comes out in a mantra that I fall back on: Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy.
Prayer requests (the ones friends and family put out there because they desperately need to be heard and are scrambling for answers themselves) I put in my prayer journal. Two years ago, I started keeping a gratitude and prayer journal, but not in the traditional way of my youth. Rather than pour my heart into paragraphs describing what is wrong, who needs help, what I want for them, and the desired outcome I think would be best for all involved, I just write names. Simply the names of people who have asked for prayer, who pop into my mind, who I know are facing a hardship. The best I can do is write their names because the Father knows the things they need before I even ask. As much as I want to compose flowery verses about what God should do (and sometimes I can’t help myself), it’s simply not my place. Who am I to write a prescription for the Mysterious Infinite to fill?
I have also found comfort in reciting The Lord’s Prayer out loud with my church congregation each week. There is something comforting about hearing all the voices around me recite the simple, yet meaningful words. Knowing that every intricate detail of the joys and burdens of each individual heart in that room can be brought before God in this one prayer is profound.
Maybe I don’t have a problem with prayer after all.
is a writer and blogger but more importantly, a wife and mother to two little boys. In her free time (if there is any) she can be found wiping snotty noses and volunteering in her community and school. Learn more about Stephanie along with her passion to encourage women and lighten their load at www.hugskissesandsnot.com.
Photograph © Sixteen Miles Out, used with permission
This is beautiful. I’m a lot older than you, and have just recently come to the understanding that sometimes the best prayer is to “be still” and let the Holy Spirit deliver my concerns to God. You. are very wise and fortunate to have discovered such a truth about prayer at a young age.