I’m not sure if I’m doing it right?
When prayer has meager results it’s easy to wonder “Am I doing this right?” Then there’s that moment when I hear others pray who seem to know what they are doing and insecurity begins to haunt me like an unsolvable word problem in algebra class. With these feelings in tow it’s easy to get discouraged in private and mute in public.
It seems like nobody is there?
Yes. This is the most difficult one for me.
I first went to God in prayer many years ago because I needed help. This true for most of us. But I continued praying because I found someone on the other side of the conversation. When that awareness of God in the conversation dries up then prayer seems useless.
The way through.
I try to take the best lessons I’ve learned about building relationships on earth and apply those lessons to talking to God in heaven. Too simple? I think not. All the most powerful strategies in life are simple. But do not confuse simple with easy.
Honest Dialogue
When prayer has such meager results that I wonder if I’m doing it right, I ask myself the simple question “Am I bringing my authentic self and having honest dialogue with God?” It is impossible to do this and get it wrong. When we self-edit our prayers (as if prayer is supposed to sound certain way) we begin to falter. No relationship thrives in pretentious second guessing.
I often rearrange my sentences when I’m praying to God. However, this is not usually self-editing to try and impress God, it is picking better words to say how I really think and feel. Isn’t it true that we often get more clear about the contents of our soul when we begin to sound it out. Picking better words as you get more honest can be helpful. As it turns out, honesty IS the best policy. Heaven seems to like it. So do you in all your important relationships.
Anybody there?
There is a quote that so powerfully explains how I feel about the absence of God that when I read it, tears form in the corners of my windows. It goes like this:
“We talk of Him much and loudly, but we secretly think of Him as being absent . . . we are lonely with an ancient and cosmic loneliness. So we try by every method devised by religion to relieve our fears and heal our hidden sadness; but with all our efforts we remain unhappy still, with the settled despair of men alone in a vast and deserted universe. But for all our fears we are not alone.”
(Tozer, The Divine Conquest)
He so articulately describes the feeling of God’s absence that it’s easy to miss the last line — “We are not alone.”
Anybody who has been in a long-term relationship knows what it’s like to feel distance. Even though the person may be sitting in the same room, distance crept in and loneliness hovers in like a weather front. Any relational pothole that is likely in our experience with others on earth, is possible (if not likely) in our relationship with God. This understanding is helpful because instead of feeling like prayer is broken or just fiction, I can instead appreciate that the relationship needs work.
For me it comes down to the question “Will I resign to a broken-down relational interaction with God (like a marriage in decline), or will I call a time-out and get some soul-time to ask, “Why is this not working?” These are challenging conversations on earth; therefore I can expect them to hold challenge in conversations with heaven.
Trust
Every important relationship builds trust but also requires it.
Trust doesn’t happen to me, it is cultivated and given from inside me.
The journey of prayer will require me to choose to trust God in disappointing uncertainty.
All relationships lean this way. There are seasons where misunderstanding abounds, and trust is a must.
To hike the distance with God I will have to take the risk of continued trust.
“No” is a powerful and noble word. It is a tool of supernatural proportions.
“No, I will not settle for this wasteland season.”
“No, I will not believe God has abandoned me.”
“No, I do not accept the lie that my prayers are futile.”
As the scriptures promise:
“Let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn. He will come to us like the evening rain.” (Hosea 6, NIV)
Or even the more concrete:
“For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Mat. 7, NIV)
When prayer turns into a dead end, I lace up my worship boots and I reckon upon the future certainty of these promises. I trust forward.