I remember how difficult it was to figure out the whole “prayer” thing when I became a Christian. It was a challenge to organize my thoughts and present them to God in a way that it felt like He could hear me. 

Until one day, I was cleaning out my closet and came across a blank notebook with Bible verses my grandmother had gifted me years before. I had been familiar with the idea of prayer journaling but had never considered what it would be like to actually write out what I bring to the Lord in prayer. I decided to try it out. Over time, prayer journaling has become a fruitful aspect of my walk with the Lord. 

One of my favorite Bible verses is Philippians 4:6: “do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” To be honest, I fall way short of obeying this command of bringing everything to the Lord in prayer. But I have found that writing out my prayers is a great way to organize my thoughts and keep track of how God is answering my requests. 

5 tips for prayer journaling

Prayer journaling will look different for everyone, but here are five tips to get you started and help you make the most of this habit.

Tip 1: Be organized.

I’ve found that if I don’t make a specific plan for how I’ll carry out a task, it’ll never get done. One way I’ve seen success is to develop a plan that’s easy to follow. 

Schedule a time every day that will allow for undistracted prayer journaling. Do your best to stick with this until it becomes part of your daily routine. Also, try coming up with specific categories you want to journal about (e.g., praise reports, friends and family, sin struggles, personal needs, etc.). You don’t have to pray for each category every day, but having explicit goals about what you want to regularly bring before the Lord will help you stay intentional in all these areas. 

Tip 2: Don’t be too organized.

While structure and organization are important, don’t overdo it! Leave room for spontaneous prayer and allow the Lord to lead your time with Him by not being overly set on a rigid schedule. Sometimes, there will be things you want to pray about that just don’t fit in your standard requests. 

Remember: The Lord knows your heart and desires you to draw near to Him in every circumstance (James 4:8). Even if your prayers aren’t always neat and tidy, use your prayer journal as an outlet to express your thoughts to the God who listens.

Tip 3: Be vulnerable.

Jesus says your Heavenly Father already knows what you need before you ask (Matthew 6:8), so don’t hold back your honesty and vulnerability in the prayers you write down. Your prayer journal is between you and the Lord. 

It can be hard to share all of the difficult things we go through with our peers, because we’re afraid it might change how they think of us. But God knows us down to our innermost being and He loves us just the same. Allow your prayer journal to be a motivator to bring your deepest concerns to the Lord and trust that He is always faithful to answer. 

Tip 4: Spend time in the Word.

One of the things I love most about the Psalms is that they serve as great inspiration for how believers ought to pray to the Lord. The more I saturate my mind with what the Bible says, the more I know what God’s will is for me and what I should be asking for. Spending intentional time reading God’s Word every day will renew your mind to desire the things He desires. Over time, you will see the language of Scripture being expressed in your written prayers. 

Tip 5: Go back and read your past prayers.

One of the greatest blessings of prayer journaling is a written record of the prayers that have been on your heart the most. Taking time to go back and read through what you’ve written will help you see how God has been faithful to answer and how you have been growing through these prayers over time. 

This is a great way to protect us from forgetting God as the source of all of our blessings and allows us to have a thankful heart for all the ways He answers prayer.

However your prayer journaling routine may look, no amount of prayer is too much. The Bible tells us to “rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). Being intentional to keep a disciplined prayer journaling habit will help you regularly bring all your desires to God and allow Him to work out His perfect will in your life.

Copyright © 2023 by FamilyLife. All rights reserved.

Niko Tomc grew up in Jupiter, Florida and loves to travel and explore outdoors. He currently attends the University of Notre Dame as a Junior studying Political Science and Digital Marketing. Upon graduation, he hopes to move back to South Florida, get plugged into his home church, Grace Immanuel Bible Church, and work at a digital marketing agency. You can find Niko on Instagram (@nikotomc_), Twitter (@niko_tomc), and TikTok (@nikotomc).

Most of us have not had models for what an authentic, manly prayer life looks like. Religious people—especially ministers—pray at church, and the prayers prayed in church are beautiful. But most of us find that sort of prayer does not come easily. Women seem to pray more easily than we do. They’re good at organizing prayer groups. They talk about prayer more easily. In fact, your wife may be the “initiator” in your home, the one who prays with the kids because it just seems to come more naturally to her. But who do we look to?

Not long ago my sons and I had the opportunity to spend a vacation together alone in the Rocky Mountains, After several days in a rustic cabin at 10,000 feet, where we had few modern conveniences, we moved to a friend’s condominium in one of the ski villages in central Colorado, where we actually had hot water and a television. During the few days we spent in these luxurious quarters, we watched some videos. We saw Apollo 13, Tombstone, The Shawshank Redemption, and The Shootist with John Wayne. Great men’s movies! But not once did I see a man praying in any of these films. Every once in a while, we see football players go down on one knee in the end zone and it looks like they’re praying, but this is not particularly inspirational for the rest of us.

Why Prayer is Foreign to Men

The truth is, as men, we’re given a double message. We hear sermons about it, and we hear stories about it. We read the Bible and see that all the great men and women were clearly people of prayer. History is full of examples of great men and women who prayed. But most of us haven’t known many men of prayer—and my personal opinion is, from years in seminary and in the ministry, that most professional Christian leaders truly struggle with prayer, too.

The bottom line: prayer is confusing, and foreign to the way many of us think and live. Why is that?

First, prayer isn’t objective. It’s hard to get your hands around prayer. It’s hard to know if you’re really praying or just thinking or if you’re getting it right.

Second, prayer can be frustrating. A friend of mine says that prayer is like trying to run a road race after a hurricane—everywhere you go, something seems to block your way! There are so many demands on our time, so many activities that seem important. When it comes to prayer, we have good intentions and may even start out all right. But then we get interrupted—the phone rings, or we remember something that we have to do right away. We say we’ll pray later. After enough of these put-offs we can feel guilty, or think that trying to pray is useless. Sooner or later, we wonder if we’re really cut out for prayer after all.

Third, it can be so hard to focus. For years I tried to pray in my car. I’d drive down the road, shut off the radio, and start trying to concentrate on praying. As often as not, I’d decide I needed a cup of coffee … or start thinking about something my wife, Susan, had said. Then I’d catch myself and begin to pray again . . . only to find myself thinking about a particular problem I was having with someone at church. After many years, I finally gave up trying to pray in the car.

Fourth, prayer is, in part, admitting our need for help—and here we step into a bind. Few men I know like to admit that they need help—even though we’re confronted every day with our inadequacies (which is particularly true if you have a family)! There’s so much we need to know that we don’t know. I saw a book the other day entitled What Men Understand About Women, and when I opened it up, every page was blank! I don’t know about you, but I have often felt that way—that I really don’t know very much about raising my children, relating to my wife, or exercising my responsibility as a husband and father. We want to be the best fathers we can be. We want to provide for our children. We want them to have good health, to get a good education, and to mature as men and women of faith, integrity, courage, compassion, and discipline. In the face of all these needs—if we stop to face them at all—we can begin to feel overwhelmed, if we’re not careful, by our inability to make a difference.

Realizing We Need God’s Help

Life is wonderfully complex—and challenging. Frankly, as your kids get older, you realize more and more how much you need God’s help to raise them and to guide them toward maturity. We don’t know nearly as much as we think we know. Perhaps your daughter is spending time with the wrong kind of friends. A young son may be sullen and refuse to respond. Another child is not studying—or not learning, anyway. In the meantime, you’re thinking about the importance of SAT scores, or about all the lessons your kids have to learn before they can make a good marriage. You can tell your child what’s right and how they have to live and even share with them the hard lessons you’ve learned. But a wise man realizes how very much he needs God’s help in the whole process of being a parent.

Many men I know are quietly despairing about their families. His relationship with his wife may be in trouble. A child may have a serious illness or disability, or may be in open rebellion. His parents may be getting older and struggling with bad health. He may be looking at years of college tuition or years of nursing home bills. He may have a sibling whom he has to bail out of trouble time and again. The point is that most of us have large challenges in our families.

Ironically, it is this sense of failure and great need—our sense of being overwhelmed by so much responsibility—that can actually be the starting point of a genuine intimacy with God in prayer.

One of the most encouraging things Jesus said comes from the only long sermon recorded in the Gospels, the one we call the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus begins with a radical statement: “How blest are those who know their need of God; the kingdom of Heaven is theirs” (Matthew 5:3, NEB). When I first read that, it gave me a great sense of relief—because if there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s my need of God. Jesus was saying, that is the starting place to becoming the man God wants me to become.

He talks in this sermon about the “blessed” man. He says there is a kind of relationship with God that, if we have it, we will be blessed, trusting God to give us what we need.

The word Jesus used that is translated “blessed” has several meanings. It means happy, good, satisfied, or approved by God. In other words, we men who have such a heavy sense of responsibility weighing upon us can find release from the internal pressure of holding on to the ultimate pressure to “make it all happen.” We can begin, instead, to relax and trust God for all that we and our families need.

No, the secret to peace, power, and security in life is not to become omnicompetent, or simply to study and work harder, or to be more and more responsible. Neither is it to be better organized, brighter, stronger, wealthier. Actually, the first step described by the Son of God in becoming complete and competent for the responsibilities we have is to stop relying on our own resourcefulness and recognize our great need of a powerful God! Literally, what Jesus said is, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.” In other words, those men who realize how small their personal resources are, and who turn to God out of this great sense of need, have taken the first step toward gaining all that they need to fulfill their responsibilities in life.

Learning to Pray Genuinely

A man who is going to grow in relationship to God, and meet his responsibilities, first needs to learn how to have genuine, intimate communion with God. This communion is the heart and soul of prayer. Power in prayer does not come from “getting it right”—that is, using the right technique, words, or system. It begins with the realization of just how inadequate we really are and that God is the only adequate One.

So if you think you’re not “cut out” for prayer, you’re in good company with the rest of us. All that is needed is you and your need!

My favorite story of prayer in the New Testament comes in the account of Peter trying to walk on water to meet the Lord. His prayer wasn’t eloquent or long or theologically deep. It was just real. When he started to sink, he yelled, “Lord, help me!”—and the Lord answered his cry. Peter knew his need.

On the one hand, prayer is based on a deep mystery. That mystery is how an eternal God can desire friendship and intimacy with willful men—like me. But on the other hand, prayer is simple: It is lifting up to God those areas of life where we are inadequate to do the job, seeking His help from the heart.

Taken from How a Man Prays for His Family by John Yates. Published by FamilyLife Publishing, a subsidiary of Campus Crusade for Christ. Copyright © 2004 FamilyLife. All rights reserved.

I was camping for the weekend in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania with five of our six kids. My wife, Jill, was home with our 8-year-old daughter, Kim. After a disastrous camping experience the summer before, Jill was happy to stay home. She said she was giving up camping for Lent.

I was walking down from our campsite to our Dodge Caravan when I noticed our 14-year-old daughter, Ashley, standing in front of the van, tense and upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, “I lost my contact lens. It’s gone.” I looked down with her at the forest floor, covered with leaves and twigs. There were a million little crevices for the lens to fall into and disappear.

I said, “Ashley, don’t move. Let’s pray.” But before I could pray, she burst into tears. “What good does it do? I’ve prayed for Kim to speak, and she isn’t speaking.”

Kim struggles with autism and developmental delay. Because of her weak fine motor skills and problems with motor planning, she is also mute. One day, after five years of speech therapy, Kim crawled out of the speech therapist’s office, crying from frustration. Jill said, “No more,” and we stopped speech therapy.

Prayer was no mere formality for Ashley. She had taken God at His word and asked that He would let Kim speak. But nothing happened. Kim’s muteness was testimony to a silent God. Prayer, it seemed, doesn’t work.

Few of us have Ashley’s courage to articulate the quiet cynicism or spiritual weariness that develops in us when heartfelt prayer goes unanswered. We keep our doubts hidden even from ourselves because we don’t want to sound like bad Christians. No reason to add shame to our cynicism. So our hearts shut down.

The glib way people talk about prayer often reinforces our cynicism. We end our conversations with “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” We have a vocabulary of “prayer speak,” including “I’ll lift you up in prayer” and “I’ll remember you in prayer.” Many who use these phrases, including us, never get around to praying. Why? Because we don’t think prayer makes much difference.

Cynicism and glibness are just part of the problem. The most common frustration is the activity of praying itself. We last for about 15 seconds, and then, out of nowhere, the day’s to-do list pops up and our minds are off on a tangent. We catch ourselves and, by sheer force of the will, go back to praying. Before we know it, it has happened again. Instead of praying, we are doing a confused mix of wandering and worrying. Then the guilt sets in. Something must be wrong with me. Other Christians don’t seem to have this trouble praying. After five minutes, we give up, saying, “I’m no good at this. I might as well get some work done.”

Something is wrong with us. Our natural desire to pray comes from Creation. We are made in the image of God. Our inability to pray comes from the Fall. Evil has marred the image. We want to talk to God but can’t. The friction of our desire to pray, combined with our badly damaged prayer antennae, leads to constant frustration. It’s as if we’ve had a stroke.

Complicating this is the enormous confusion about what makes for good prayer. We vaguely sense that we should begin by focusing on God, not on ourselves. So when we start to pray, we try to worship. That works for a minute, but it feels contrived; then guilt sets in again. We wonder, Did I worship enough? Did I really mean it?

In a burst of spiritual enthusiasm, we put together a prayer list, but praying through the list gets dull, and nothing seems to happen. The list gets long and cumbersome; we lose touch with many of the needs. Praying feels like whistling in the wind. When someone is healed or helped, we wonder if it would have happened anyway. Then we misplace the list.

Praying exposes how self-preoccupied we are and uncovers our doubts. It was easier on our faith not to pray. After only a few minutes, our prayer is in shambles. Barely out of the starting gate, we collapse on the sidelines—cynical, guilty, and hopeless.

The hardest place in the world to pray

American culture is probably the hardest place in the world to learn to pray. We are so busy that when we slow down to pray, we find it uncomfortable. We prize accomplishments, production. But prayer is nothing but talking to God. It feels useless, as if we are wasting time. Every bone in our bodies screams, “Get to work.”

When we aren’t working, we are used to being entertained. Television, the internet, video games, and smart phones make free time as busy as work. When we do slow down, we slip into a stupor. Exhausted by the pace of life, we veg out in front of a screen or with earplugs.

If we try to be quiet, we are assaulted by what C.S. Lewis called “the Kingdom of Noise.” Everywhere we go we hear background noise. If the noise isn’t provided for us, we can bring our own with technology.

Even our church services can have that same restless energy. There is little space to be still before God. We want our money’s worth, so something should always be happening. We are uncomfortable with silence.

One of the subtlest hindrances to prayer is probably the most pervasive. In the broader culture and in our churches, we prize intellect, competency, and wealth. Because we can do life without God, praying seems nice but unnecessary. Money can do what prayer does, and it is quicker and less time-consuming. Our trust in ourselves and in our talents makes us structurally independent of God. As a result, exhortations to pray don’t stick.

The oddness of praying

It’s worse if we stop and think about how odd prayer is. When we have a phone conversation, we hear a voice and can respond. When we pray, we are talking to air. Only crazy people talk to themselves. How do we talk with a Spirit, with someone who doesn’t speak with an audible voice?

And if we believe that God can talk to us in prayer, how do we distinguish our thoughts from His thoughts? Prayer is confusing. We vaguely know that the Holy Spirit is somehow involved, but we are never sure how or when a spirit will show up or what that even means. Some people seem to have a lot of the Spirit. We don’t.

Forget about God for a minute. Where do you fit in? Can you pray for what you want? And what is the point of praying if God already knows what you need? Why bore God? It sounds like nagging. Just thinking about prayer ties us all up in knots.

Has this been your experience? If so, know that you have lots of company. Most Christians feel frustrated when it comes to prayer!

A visit to a prayer therapist

Let’s imagine that you see a prayer therapist to get your prayer life straightened out. The therapist says, “Let’s begin by looking at your relationship with your heavenly Father. God said, ‘I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me’ (2 Corinthians 6:18). What does it mean that you are a son or daughter of God?”

You reply that it means you have complete access to your heavenly Father through Jesus. You have true intimacy, based not on how good you are but on the goodness of Jesus. Not only that, Jesus is your brother. You are a fellow heir with Him.

The therapist smiles and says, “That is right. You’ve done a wonderful job of describing the doctrine of Sonship. Now tell me, what it is like for you to be with your Father? What is it like to talk with Him?”

You cautiously tell the therapist how difficult it is to be in your Father’s presence, even for a couple of minutes. Your mind wanders. You aren’t sure what to say. You wonder, Does prayer make any difference? Is God even there? Then you feel guilty for your doubts and just give up.

Your therapist tells you what you already suspect. “Your relationship with your heavenly Father is dysfunctional. You talk as if you have an intimate relationship, but you don’t. Theoretically, it is close. Practically, it is distant. You need help.”

Ashley’s contact

I needed help when Ashley burst into tears in front of our minivan. I was frozen, caught between her doubts and my own. I had no idea that she’d been praying for Kim to speak. What made Ashley’s tears so disturbing was that she was right. God had not answered her prayers. Kim was still mute. I was fearful for my daughter’s faith and for my own. I did not know what to do.

Would I make the problem worse by praying? If we prayed and couldn’t find the contact, it would just confirm Ashley’s growing unbelief. Already, Jill and I were beginning to lose her heart. Her childhood faith in God was being replaced by faith in boys. Ashley was cute, warm, and outgoing. Jill was having trouble keeping track of Ashley’s boyfriends, so she started naming them like ancient kings. Ashley’s first boyfriend was Frank, so his successors became Frank the Second, Frank the Third, and so on. Jill and I needed help.

I had little confidence God would do anything, but I prayed silently, Father, this would be a really good time to come through. You’ve got to hear this prayer for the sake of Ashley. Then I prayed aloud with Ashley, “Father, help us to find this contact.”

When I finished, we bent down to look through the dirt and twigs. There sitting on a leaf, was the missing lens.

Prayer made a difference after all.

Excerpted from A Praying Life, by Paul Miller, copyright 2009. Used by permission of NavPress, all rights reserved.

I once had the privilege of caring for a small, aging German lump of sugar named Mae Gabriel. Mae was in her late eighties. She still knew much of her German Bible and spent the day humming the hymns of her youth, though she could barely hear.

Mae lived alone in a two-room house on the farm of her son-in-law. Her prized possessions were a velvet leaf plant that had practically taken over her kitchen, dusty photos of her family on a bedroom bureau, and a skunk that wandered out of the woods at dusk to eat scraps she put out on a cracked dinner plate. In many ways you could consider Mae pitiable—even pathetic. But Mae Gabriel was a saint. She taught me as much about prayer as anyone I have ever known.

During one of my visits, Mae told me of the death of her husband. Frank had died 20 years earlier, but when she spoke of him, her eyes still brimmed with tears. She told me about the day the doctors said Frank had only a short time left. On that day Mae said she prayed over and over that God would heal Frank. “I didn’t want to be alone,” she said with a smile.

Then she told me how she prayed.

“First, I prayed that God’s will would be done,” she said with a determined nod of her head.

“Then I prayed again and again that the Lord would heal my husband. But I also prayed that if He needed to take Frank, my God would give me the strength to bear it.” Then in the midst of Mae’s tears, a beautiful smile lit up her whole face as though her heart were shining through. She simply said, “And He did. God gave me the strength to bear it.”

Seeking God’s will first

Mae prayed backwards. She prayed first for the priorities of her God—that His will would be done. Then she prayed her desires. She boldly and persistently petitioned for her husband. Again and again this little woman knocked against the door of heaven without hesitation or shame. She listed her specific wants, but she also voiced the deeper desire for God to do His will. She did not doubt or fear the hand of the heavenly Father, who had given His own Son to be her eternal Savior.

Yet that’s not always the way we pray. Often we focus on asking God to ease our worries and satisfy our wants before adding “in Jesus’ name” as an obligatory spiritual seasoning to make our petitions palatable to God. Some of us may even have been taught to use the name of Jesus to “claim the desires of our heart.” Such teaching encourages us to end prayer “in the name of Jesus” to get whatever we want. But Jesus is not like a genie in a bottle whom we can command by invoking His name. When we pray, we should be doing more than looking heavenward, believing with all our might that our wish will come true, and instead of repeating, “Star light, star bright, bring the wish I wish tonight,” saying, “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Two problems immediately arise when we treat prayer like a surefire wishing star. First, we limit God by the wisdom of our wishes. If God were really obligated to do what we think should happen, then God would be tethered to the leash of our understanding. Our wishes would fence God’s omniscience within the limits of our brain and restrict His plans to the extent of our insight. But if our wisdom defines the limits of God’s, then our world will inevitably unravel. The job we may want for extra income may take us from the family that God knows needs us more. The immediate cure for our sickness may deny doctors an insight that would save millions or may deprive us of the patience that God will use to bring Jesus into the hearts of our children. We must trust God more than our wishes or concede that our world will be controlled by billions of competing wishes that we have neither the power nor the wisdom to control.

The second problem with making prayer a wishing well is forcing the conclusion that prayers, like wishing wells, are fantasies. Though it may seem very holy to say, “I believe that God will be true to His promises and provide what I want,” such expressions ultimately deny everyone’s faith. Everyone suffers. We live in a fallen world. Biblical prayer does not solve all our earthly problems, and God never promised that it would. Jesus did not even promise His disciples a perpetual bed of roses. Instead, He said, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33).

Prayer does not relieve all suffering, but it assures us that no difficulty comes without a purpose. When we pray “in Jesus’ name,” we have God’s assurance that He will answer our prayer in a way that brings glory to Jesus and furthers His kingdom. When the Lord said of the apostle Paul, “He must suffer for my name,” the Savior was not intending to ignore the apostle’s prayers but was promising to use them beyond Paul’s imagining (Acts 9:16). The difficulties Paul would have been crazy to want, God used to glorify the name of Jesus throughout the world—precisely Paul’s deepest prayer whenever he petitioned “in Jesus’ name.”

The godliest and most prayerful people know from experience the meaning of disappointment, grief, failure, rejection, betrayal, incapacity, and illness. In this fallen world you cannot avoid suffering; you can have peace in the midst of it. You cannot avoid trials; you can have confidence of their purpose. You cannot bind God by your prayers; you can guarantee His blessing. You cannot direct the will of God; you can pray according to His will and rest in the assurance of His love. You can pray knowing that God will marshal the powers of heaven to accomplish on earth all He knows is best for your eternity. Praying in Jesus’ name is the key.

Beginning with the end

Through Jesus we pray without the limitations of our wisdom or faith. We seek the favor of the heavenly Father represented by the Son He loves. We approach the throne of grace without the burden of our sin and with the righteousness of our Savior. We ask for His blessing based on God’s wisdom, not ours. We trust in His faithfulness, not in the adequacy of our faith. We petition God with the confidence that earth and eternity will bend to His will on our behalf. All of these assurances are ours as we pray in Jesus’ name.

So why wait to the end of a prayer to tag on Jesus’ name? Helpful traditions encourage us to add Jesus’ name before our “amen” so that we do not forget Him. But when our routines have desensitized us to His priorities, then it’s time to begin where we end. Praying backwards will inevitably turn our prayer priorities upside down. By saying “in Jesus’ name” first, we will more readily discern when our prayers go astray from His purposes, hijacked by our self-interest. Of course, actually saying the words “in Jesus’ name” at the beginning of our prayers is not really the point. The point is to put first in our hearts what those words are supposed to mean: “I offer this prayer for Jesus’ sake.” When Jesus’ priorities come first, our prayers will change. They will be less self-oriented, more Christ-directed, more blessed, and ultimately most satisfying to our hearts.

God will honor prayer truly offered in Jesus’ name. Such prayer differs from wishes made when we blow out birthday candles. We light those candles to celebrate our years and to fantasize about times made better by wishes fulfilled. By praying in Jesus’ name, we petition God to make our life shine for Christ’s glory and eternity’s purposes. Praying backwards simply ensures that He comes first in our thoughts so that we are prompted to make Him first in our priorities. Such Christ-centered prayer is no great sacrifice; for when He is first in our priorities, our needs are first in His heart. The love that flames for us in heaven burns strong and consumes every hindrance to His fulfillment of our eternal blessing. When we pray all for Jesus, He makes our life a candle that lights this present darkness and burns for His glory forever.

Adapted from Praying Backwards by Bryan Chapell. Published by Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group © 2005 by Bryan Chapell. Used with permission. All rights to this material are reserved. Material is not to be reproduced, scanned, copied, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from Baker Publishing Group.

Editor’s note: We are told in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to “pray without ceasing.” The problem for many of us is that prayer can become a boring exercise of, in the words of Don Whitney, “praying the same old things about the same old things.” In this article Whitney describes how praying through Scripture can revolutionize your prayer life and lift it from the rut of mindless repetition.

“Empty phrases” are ruinous in any area of spirituality, but especially in prayer. Jesus warned, “But when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words” (Matthew 6:7).

Such “empty phrases” can result from insincerity or repetition. That is, we might pray meaningless, vacuous words because either our hearts or minds are far away.

One of the reasons Jesus prohibited the mindless repetition of prayers is because that’s exactly the way we’re prone to pray. Although I don’t recite intentionally memorized prayers, my own tendency is to pray basically the same old things about the same old things. And it doesn’t take long before such prayers fragment the attention span and freeze the heart of prayer.

The problem is not our praying about the same old things, for Jesus taught us (in Luke 11:5-13 and 18:1-8) to pray with persistence for good things. Our problem is in always praying about them with the same ritualistic, heartless expressions.

In my experience, the almost unfailing solution to this problem is to pray through a passage of Scripture—particularly one of the psalms—instead of making up my prayer as I go. Praying in this way is simply taking the words of Scripture and using them as my own words or as prompters for what I say to God.

For example, if I prayed through Psalm 27, I would begin by reading verse 1, “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” Then I would pray something like,

Thank you, Lord, that you are my light. Thank you for giving me the light to see my need for Jesus and your forgiveness. Please light my way so that I will know which way to go in the big decision that is before me today. And thank you especially that you are my salvation. You saved me; I didn’t save myself. And now I ask you to save my children also, as well those at work with whom I’ve shared the gospel.

When I have nothing else to say, instead of my mind wandering, I have a place to go—the rest of verse 1. “Whom shall I fear?” Then I might pray along these lines: I thank you that I do not have to fear anyone because You are my Father. But I confess that I have been fearful about ______.

I would continue in this way, praying about whatever is prompted verse by verse, until either I complete the psalm or run out of time.

Praying through a passage of Scripture was the uncomplicated method that transformed the daily experience of one of the most famous men of prayer in history. George Müller said,

Formerly when I rose, I began to pray as soon as possible, and generally spent all my time till breakfast in prayer . . . What was the result? . . . Often, after having suffered much from wandering of mind for the first ten minutes, or quarter of an hour, or even half an hour, I only then began really to pray.

I scarcely ever suffer now in this way. For my heart being nourished by the truth, being brought into experimental [that is, experiential] fellowship with God, I speak to my Father . . . about the things that He has brought before me in His precious Word.^[1]

Both Jesus (in Matthew 27:46) and His followers in the book of Acts (4:24-26) prayed words from the Psalms (from Psalm 22:1, and Psalm 146:6 and Psalm 2:1-2 respectively). Why not you?

Although you’ll pray about “the same old things,” you’ll do so in brand new ways. You’ll also find yourself praying about things you never thought to pray—things that are on the heart of God.

You’ll concentrate better, and begin to experience prayer as a real conversation with a real Person. For the Bible really is God speaking to you, and now all you have to do is simply respond to what He says.

Listen to Dr. Whitney tell FamilyLife Today® listeners how to pray the words of Scripture as we seek the Lord, and how doing so allows us to pray with fervor.

_{[1] Roger Steer, comp., Spiritual Secrets of George Müller (Wheaton, IL.: Harold Shaw, 1985), pages 61-62.}

Copyright © 2015 by Don Whitney. Used with permission.

I stood beside Karen’s bed as I had many times before. A thunderstorm was coming, and we could see the lightning and hear the thunder as we looked out her window. Our fifth child, 2-year-old Karen, was particularly sensitive to storms.

My wife, Gini, was nursing a baby, and my “knightly” duty was to take care of the other children during the night. That included sitting up with Karen until a storm passed.

This stormy night was no different than many before, but the weariness seemed to be more noticeable as I sat on her bed. I had to leave the house early to begin my day of research and writing demanded by my course of study. There had to be a better way to comfort Karen than sitting with her or lying beside her until the storm was well passed.

Responding with Scripture

“Daddy, I’m scared” is a statement heard by almost every father at one time or another. It can be a simple response to an unusual activity like riding an amusement ride for the first time. It can also be a deep, inner expression of fear. As I have faced these situations as a father, I have tried to respond with Scripture, a truth from the Bible, or a biblical principle. My desire is to help my children learn to trust in God.

One night I decided to use these storms to teach Karen what they told us about God. I told her that God made the lightning; that God made the thunder, and that we could learn about God when the storms came. I started telling her that the storm taught us about how mighty and powerful our God is. He made the storm and the brightness of the lightning showed His power. The loud thunder showed the might our God has. He made the storm, and He controlled the storm.

Psalm 68:33-34 says, “To him who rides in the heavens, the ancient heavens; behold, he sends out his voice, his mighty voice. Ascribe power to God, whose majesty is over Israel, and whose power is in the skies” (ESV). David, the author of the book of Psalms, used creative language and descriptions to teach that God controlled the storm and that His power was seen in them. It was important for Karen to understand that the God we serve and worship controls the very thing that frightened her, and that through the storm, God demonstrates His great power.

I don’t remember how many times I talked to her about these truths, but I did it every time a new storm kept her from going to sleep or wakened her during the night. At last, I simply began to ask her, “What does the storm teach us about God?” For awhile I would provide the answer: “Mighty God, powerful God.” Over and over I did this until one night I asked the question and let Karen answer. She responded with a sense of awe in her voice, “Mighty God, powerful God.”

Weeks went by, and my times with Karen grew shorter and shorter. And I vaguely remember a night when I didn’t even get out of bed. As the storm crashed around us, I called out, “What does the storm teach us about God?” I heard Karen respond from her bedroom, “Mighty God, powerful God.”

What bliss! I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Copyright © 2006 by FamilyLife. All rights reserved.

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Emergency service people are called first responders. Their first response is to help. Police, fire fighters, and paramedics all race to respond when someone is in need. For many it comes naturally. For most, training is needed to be able to fly into action during an emergency. As a former police officer, my husband was trained to be a first responder.

As a Christian, I have a desire to speak to the Lord about things. But, like a paramedic, there’s training necessary before I learn to pray first in a situation. I have to make a conscious decision to do that. His Word is a great reminder.

When I’m going through something difficult, I struggle with taking my cares to God first—before worrying. My first response is to share my anxieties or fears with my husband, Paul, or have a marathon conversation with my girlfriend.

When I have a weakness, I make a point to teach my children the areas I struggle in, so they can avoid my pitfalls. Things like swimming in deep water, eating more veggies than cookies, keeping my patience while driving—prayer as a first response in every situation. I learned through an emergency experience that they had actually listened to me.

Reacting in an emergency

We were getting onto the freeway, when Paul accelerated to merge with traffic. “Geesh!” I heard him say as a wooden garage door tumbled through the air and landed with a thud, throwing up dust and debris not more than 50 feet in front of us.

We watched in stunned silence as a full-sized pickup truck careened out of control, skidding sideways across three lanes. The driver overcorrected, and the truck went airborne. His vehicle cartwheeled off the freeway and over a 30-foot embankment, landing somewhere below.

As Paul (a former police officer) pulled over, I silently prayed he would stop our Suburban before the children caught a glimpse of the potential fatality. Quickly, but calmly, he put the car into park and unbuckled his seat belt. “Call 911.” Bolting out of the car, he sprinted down the freeway, over the embankment, and out of sight.

As I dialed 911, my hands began to shake; I (a former police dispatcher) wasn’t familiar with being on this side of an emergency call. As I gave the dispatcher information, I could hear soft voices from the backseat.

My children were praying.

They had been trained to make prayer their first response. I was touched as I listened to them pray for their daddy and the man in the pickup truck.

The looky-loos gathered, pulling their cars onto the shoulder. Some even got out and stood, peering over the edge to view the carnage below. Still, none ran down the steep embankment or attempted to climb over the barbed wire fence.

No one, except my husband.

The driver was alive when Paul got to him, his truck eventually landed upside down on a frontage road below. Partially ejected out the passenger window, he was semi-conscious. Work tools, ladders, and broken glass had been launched and scattered alongside the road, out of the way of oncoming traffic.

Paul thought for sure the driver was dead. We discovered later when the ambulance arrived that his injuries were minor.

I was proud of my husband, but I wasn’t surprised. He’d been trained to react this way. My children were proud of their dad too. One moment they were talking with him in the car, and the next they witnessed Clark Kent transform into Superman. First responders are trained to do just that.

What impressed me more than my Superman spouse was my children’s first response. They began to pray, without provocation or direction from me. They’d been trained to bring their cares before the Lord.

Someone once shared with me, “Joanne, if all you can do is pray, then that’s what you should do.” My children lived those words out that day.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row type=”in_container” full_screen_row_position=”middle” scene_position=”center” text_color=”dark” text_align=”left” overlay_strength=”0.3″][vc_column centered_text=”true” column_padding=”no-extra-padding” column_padding_position=”all” background_color_opacity=”1″ background_hover_color_opacity=”1″ column_shadow=”none” width=”1/1″ tablet_text_alignment=”default” phone_text_alignment=”default” column_border_width=”none” column_border_style=”solid”][nectar_btn size=”medium” open_new_tab=”true” button_style=”regular” button_color_2=”Extra-Color-1″ icon_family=”none” url=”https://www.familylife.com/bettertogether/” text=”Would you like encouragement for making prayer your first response with your spouse? Sign up…”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row type=”in_container” full_screen_row_position=”middle” scene_position=”center” text_color=”dark” text_align=”left” overlay_strength=”0.3″][vc_column column_padding=”no-extra-padding” column_padding_position=”all” background_color_opacity=”1″ background_hover_color_opacity=”1″ column_shadow=”none” width=”1/1″ tablet_text_alignment=”default” phone_text_alignment=”default” column_border_width=”none” column_border_style=”solid”][vc_column_text]

Practicing what I preach

I used to believe I was too busy to pray. Not true.

Prayer took a backseat in my faith journey for far too long. Making time for it is a discipline I am still learning. At least now I understand I have time for it. How could I honestly believe I didn’t have time to talk with God? I made time daily to eat at least three meals a day, browse the internet, and make phone calls to friends who had no power to change the problems I was facing even if they wanted to.

I used to believe prayer was a lesser responsibility for those who didn’t have the gift of teaching or couldn’t make a tater tot casserole for the church potluck. Prayer was at the bottom of my to-do list. Those who were labeled prayer warriors, well, I thought it was great for them, but it must be because they weren’t gifted for anything else.

When I was younger, if I had been given a book to read, I would have voraciously attacked each chapter exceptthe one on prayer. After all, prayer was boring, prayer took time, and prayer was only for emergencies, right? I was raised in a church where prayers were memorized and recited and didn’t require much reflection on my part.

When I first brought my husband to a service in my childhood church, he was surprised at the lack of emotion, the monotone presentation of those who repeated the same prayer over and over—almost in a chant. Frankly, I wasn’t too interested in digging much deeper. As far as I was concerned, prayer was boring, and that was that.

A shift in my priorities

Prayer is an important part of my day now. I can’t imagine how my marriage would suffer if Paul and I spoke only every now and then or just once on Sunday. I’m grateful for a Lord and Savior who not only died for me but who also takes the time to listen whenever I speak to Him.

If you have struggled with making prayer your first response, here are some ideas to get you started:

• Set apart time each day for prayer.
• Pray with your children each night before bed and before they leave for school in the morning. Allow them to overhear your own prayers or see you praying with your husband from time to time.
• Begin a prayer journal. Every couple of months read through it. Your trust in Him will grow as you see how He’s been faithful to answer your prayers.
• Find yourself a prayer partner. Some of the sweetest phone calls I’ve shared have included prayer time with a girlfriend.

Is He your first step and first response when life gets harried and priorities get skewed? Have you talked with Him lately? If you haven’t, maybe it’s time you did.

Taken from Just Too Busy by Joanne Kraft ©2011 by Joanne Kraft and Beacon Hill Press of Kansas City, Kansas City, Missouri. Used by permission of publisher. All rights reserved.

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Do you ever feel as though the circumstances of life are about to overwhelm you? It is said, We are worn down less by the mountain we climb than by the grain of sand in our shoe. I agree. Would you like to know what pebbles seem to frequent my sneakers?

1. People who try to make me feel guilty.
2. My unbalanced checkbook.
3. My garage. (It continually proves the second law of thermodynamics—the universe is moving from order to disorder.)
4. The incessant ringing of the telephone.
5. Sibling rivalry.
6. Things that break and need fixing.
7. A drippy faucet. A smoking fireplace. And a leaky pipe in the ceiling.
8. Car problems that always occur at the most inopportune times.
9. A whining child.
10. Things that aren’t where I left them. Or forgetting where I left them.
11. More sibling rivalry.
12. An unresolved conflict with a family member.
13. And tripping over all the stuff that six children can drag out! There have been times when the floors at our place were symbolic of a lot of life’s circumstances: piled with the unpredictable and regularly cluttered with chaos.

I once took a census of our floors: there were enough children’s books on the floor to load a good-sized library truck. And Legos! Legos may be creative and all, but they drive me crazy—10 zillion pieces specially designed to disappear forever down heat registers, or to be sucked into the abyss of the vacuum cleaner.

I found enough dolls to populate Toy City. We had four girls living in our house and over 25 dolls. And enough Cabbage Patch Kids ere on the floor to make one think our floor was the original patch.

In the dining room where we had just finished dinner, there was enough spilled food to feed a small African nation. Plus an empty coke can, two ribbons from some frazzled doll’s hair, and one coat (one of our children threw it there I guess hoping it would grow and multiply in the fertile debris of the floor).

Are we out of control? Partially. But doesn’t it happen to everyone from time to time? Little things get to us. Frequently.

Honestly, big problems are difficult, and there are more serious problems that do confound us, but today, tonight, right now, this is where more of us live—in the midst of the little things. It’s called reality.

It reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw on a pickup truck some time ago: REALITY IS FOR THOSE WHO CAN’T COPE WITH DRUGS. I really do understand why we have a culture of “cop outs.”

Where is God?

Is God involved in the details of life? Could God possibly want to teach us something in a flat tire? Does He really want to invade every moment of our day or would He prefer to reserve the 9:30 until 12:00 time slot on Sunday mornings?

One of the most practical spiritual truths is found in 1 Thessalonians 5:18—”In everything give thanks … ” Just four little words that measure my walk with God. I’ll never forget the first time I heard the concept of giving thanks in all things. It was 100 percent foreign to me. I didn’t think like that. I was used to either calling things “bad luck,” getting ticked off, or just shrugging my shoulders while muttering, “What’s the use.”

But I began to practice this newly found command and to my amazement I started to notice a change in my attitude about life in general. I began to realize that God wanted to invade every area of my life. Every area.

Learning to give thanks

Does He really want us to give thanks in all things? “I mean c’mon, isn’t that a bit fanatical,” you might ask. Why could this possibly be so important to God? Let me suggest three reasons.

First, giving thanks in all things expresses faith—faith in the God who knows what He’s doing—faith in the God who sovereignly rules in all that happens to us. Isn’t that what He wants from us?

Secondly, He commanded us to give thanks because He knew we wouldn’t do it naturally. Giving thanks in all things means I am no longer walking as a mere man, grumbling and griping about “stuff,” but walking as a spiritual man (1 Corinthians 2:14-15)—a man who sees God at work … even in the grains of sand that tend to fill my shoes.

Isn’t that a little bit of what’s wrong with twenty-first century Christianity? Don’t we divorce God from the details of daily experience? Don’t we ultimately live like those things which we can’t seem to control? Let’s be honest, we’d rather gripe, complain, and be miserable about circumstances than give thanks.

Thirdly, He wants to teach us how to deal with the irritating grains of sand so we can get on with climbing the mountains He has for us. All we see are the pebbles, and we think if we could just remove all those pebbles then we could get on with living. But God wants to use those irritants to instruct us and see us grow up. I wonder how many times He’s had to teach me the same lesson before I finally learned it by obeying Him?

The following is an excerpt from a letter I wrote years ago, and it contains a written snapshot of our family under the siege of circumstances.

To start out with, we have been living out of suitcases for the past seven weeks, with our two little ones, both under two, going through Pampers like they owned the factory! You can guess what malady they were overtaken by!

We’ve had checks bounce because our paycheck was in the post office in Dallas and we couldn’t get it out to deposit it. Not only were all those rubbery checks a stab to my credit rating but also my pride.

My billfold and Barbara’s purse were relieved from our presence (stolen or lost) in the big west Texas city of—get this—Rising Star. Not only did we lose all of our credit cards, but our identification as well. After a couple of hours of frustrated searching and finding nothing, I was finally able to thank God that He was in control of our traveling disaster team.

Still gluttons for punishment we pressed on to Colorado where we decided to camp out with our two little ones (this was primarily because we didn’t have enough capital on our person to finance a motel room). That night a deluge of rain camped with us. Our tent was transformed from a shelter into a funnel. We were kept dry by massive applications of Ashley’s Pampers, placed at strategic locations to soak up the minor floods, which occurred repeatedly in our tent.

By the time we finally arrived for Family Ministry training, we were wondering if we were the ones the Lord wanted to start this ministry to the home. It seemed as though our home had quite a few bruises, scrapes, and lacerations. Let me confide in you that we had lost our perspective of thanking God “in all things.”

Then a couple of days later a flash flood hit Estes Park—the worst in Colorado history—taking the lives of seven fellow Campus Crusade for Christ staff members. Vonette Bright (the wife of the Founder of CCC) and 21 other wives of those in leadership barely escaped a twenty-foot wall of water by going up the side of the canyon in total darkness.

You know something? That disastrous incident really changed our perspective. We didn’t really have any problems. God showed us that we had our lives and the privilege of serving the King of kings and the Lord of lords. God used that tragedy to teach us many valuable lessons.

Pressured? Overwhelmed? Why not consider giving thanks for that which is so weighty? Feeling hemmed-in by life’s daily drudgeries? Why not express faith and thankfulness that God knows what He’s doing? Are you angry, resentful, and embittered about that over which you have no control? Why not give up these futile feelings and give thanks to the One who is in control? Had a bad day? Week? Month? Lift your eyes and heart by stopping right now and expressing thanks to the One who will not disappoint.

Do you have some grit and gravel in your shoe that feel like a herd of boulders? Before you try to empty them out, why don’t you stop right now and give thanks for that rock pile and ask Him to teach you what you need to learn.

Sometimes we never outgrow our need to relearn the most fundamental lessons: “In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Copyright © 2006 by FamilyLife. All rights reserved.

“I’m not a Christian, and I’ll never become one. And I don’t want you to ever talk to me about this again.”

I was stunned when Mom stated her feelings so strongly. What do you do when you cannot talk to your mother about God? I had no other choice. I talked to God about my mother. Yet it seemed so unlikely that Mom would respond. It seemed virtually impossible.

Praying for your family may be the most daunting task you will ever undertake. We find it easier to pray for people who we do not know than to pray for our families. We know the deep problems of those so close to us. We know where they have messed up, and often it seems like an impossible situation. We forget that God specializes in the impossible.

It was easy for me to become discouraged as I prayed for my mom. She was a self-made woman. She taught me I could do anything, go anywhere, and achieve whatever I set my mind to. However, that same strength was what made it so difficult for her to understand what transpired the night I gave my heart to Christ.

My mother’s rejection

I will never forget that night as long as I live. I walked into the Istrouma Baptist Church in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, as one person and came out as a completely different person. I had never experienced such love in all of my life. After I prayed and invited Christ into my life, I felt like a ton of bricks lifted from my shoulders.

Even though my parents did not attend church, I thought Mom and Dad would be excited about my decision. I certainly did not expect their reaction when I told them.

“You’re going to do what?!” Mom shouted. “You’re going to throw away the opportunity to study law to become some preacher? Well, you’re not going to live in this house if you’re going to be a preacher.”

I was shattered. I did not know what to do. I went to some of my friends who also had become Christians during the church service and wept. “What do I do?” I asked. They did not have an answer for me. They just prayed.

Over the years, God has used my mother’s rejection to bond me to the people to whom I minister. He also worked slowly but surely in her heart. Ten years before she died, I received a surprise phone call from her. “Sammy,” she said desperately, “I need God. I need Jesus. I need help.” I prayed with Mom on the phone, and she gave her heart to Jesus.

When I first became a Christian, it seemed so impossible that Mom would ever give her heart to Christ. Yet I learned many great principles of praying for my family because of my relationship with Mom. It is those lessons that have become the very foundation of what I want to share with you about praying for your family.

The first and greatest principle that God taught me was that He deeply loved my family. He is a good God. I know that sounds very basic, but it is also deeply profound. Without a conviction about the goodness and love of God stamped into our hearts, we will become weary and cease praying for our families.

God loved my mother and had a plan for her. Although I never understood what had transpired in Mom’s life to produce the kind of bitterness she displayed when I became a Christian, God knew. Moreover, He understood her. He loved my mom. He knew everything about her, and He knew how to gently draw her to Himself.

When Jesus opened the door of prayer and invited His disciples to step inside, He placed their focus on the character and attributes of God. He wants you and me to know and experience Him intimately. I am convinced I would never have known God in the depths of His love without having gone through those tough times with Mom.

There is a second important truth—praying with faith. Jesus said, “And all things, you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive” (Matthew 21:22, NASB). Faith energizes us. It gives us the ability to come into His presence continually. Faith brings us back to the goodness and greatness of God. When we see Him, faith rises in our hearts.

What role does faith play in the salvation of our families, and how much of their salvation depends upon God’s sovereign grace? That is an impossible question to answer. All I know is that our salvation is 100 percent God’s doing. God saved us by His grace and His grace alone. I cannot force a person to become a Christian—even through my prayers.

Prayer is a part of His great plan and His wonderful mystery. It is the meeting place—where the Sovereignty of God and the Will of Man intersect. It is the place where faith rises and moves mountains that have stood in the hearts of our families for generations.

The third principle was patience and persistence. We live in a generation that demands instant gratification. We learn to wait upon Him in two ways: over a long period and with a deep-seated belief that He will answer our prayers. I prayed for more than twenty years for my mom before I ever saw an answer.

We wonder why the answer does not come immediately. Perhaps it is because God longs to have fellowship with us and mold us into His image. Waiting upon Him is an act of dependence upon Him. As I look back on the time of praying for my mom, I realize God used that to build a sense of dependence upon Him that was extremely healthy.

Prayer opens hearts. It throws doors open wide. It brings you to places you would never have dreamed and arranges circumstances that would be impossible to produce by yourself. When you learn to wait in His presence, He works in unfathomable ways. That is why the Psalmist said, “My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him” (Psalm 62:5).

Finally, God taught me to pray with a humble, repentant heart. I was praying for Mom’s repentance, but the greatest need was deep repentance in my heart. When I look back upon those years of praying for my mom, I can clearly identify a moment when things began to change in her. She began to change when I began to change.

One day when I was having a time alone with God, the Holy Spirit opened the hidden parts of my heart and began to search them. One of the things God made known during those moments was an attitude I had not been willing to face. I had been an ungrateful son. I had never expressed to my parents my love and appreciation for all they had done for me. Selfishness was the root cause of that attitude. I never saw what their needs were because I was so wrapped up in my problems and myself.

When God opened my eyes to see my sins, I was broken. After mustering some courage, I called Mom and told her what God had shown me. Her response, once again, took me by surprise. “Son,” she said, “I can’t tell you how much that means. Thank you so much.”

Wow! Everything changed in my relationship with Mom from that moment on. She was much more open to hearing what God was doing in my life. It was a defining moment in our relationship, and it seemed to allow the Holy Spirit to begin to tenderize her heart.

I did not think that phone call would ever come when she said, “Sammy, I need God.” However, after twenty years of praying, that incredible moment came. My brokenness softened the soil of my mom’s heart. My repentance made the ground fertile.

Develop your relationship with Him

The greatest encouragement I can offer you about praying for your family is to ask God to search your heart and show you anything that needs removing from your life. The release of God’s Spirit upon their lives begins in your heart and soul. Find a time and place to meet with God. Get to know Him as “our Father.” See how mighty He is in heaven.

As you develop an intimate relationship with Him, faith will rise in your heart and patience will rest on your soul. God will change you more than God will change the person for whom you are praying.

Wait upon the Lord.

Adapted from Praying for Your Family © 2006 by Sammy Tippit. Used by permission of Sammy Tippit Ministries. All rights reserved.

Do the majority of the rooms in your house have some type of stereo system?

Is turning on the radio or CD player one of the first things you do when you get in the car?

Do you find you can’t think clearly unless there is music going on in the background?

Are you uncomfortable with silence?

If you answered, “yes” to most of the questions above, then you may want turn off your stereo and consider the benefits of some silence and solitude.

Jim Elliot, a martyr for his faith in Christ, said, “I think the devil has made it his business to monopolize on three elements: noise, hurry, and crowds…Satan is quite aware of the power of silence.”

In our culture it is so easy to get caught up in the rush of life. Jobs, family, friends, and activities all compete for our time. We often feel pulled in all different directions, like a toy that is fought over by a group of children. Unfortunately, we as Christians may fall into the trap of spiritualizing our busyness. In the name of Christ, we meet needs, visit people, attend Bible studies, lead small groups, and serve others while juggling a job, close relationships, household duties. And then we too often skip the necessities of eating and sleeping. As we hustle and bustle from one thing to the next, we can also easily neglect our personal relationship with the Lord and slowly become less focused on living for His glory.

Please keep in mind that none of the activities listed in the previous paragraph are necessarily wrong, and the Lord does call us to let our light shine so that others may see our good works and glorify Him (Matthew 5:16). However, it is important for us to realize the benefits that come when we are able to separate ourselves from the distractions of life, quiet our hearts before the Lord, and regain a spiritual perspective.

Even during the height of His ministry, Christ Himself, the ultimate servant and our supreme example, took the time to get alone with His Father (Matthew 4:23). He was continually wanted and needed by the crowds and had the power to do things no one else could do, yet He knew the importance of pulling away in order to be alone.

In looking back over my years at college, some of my most precious times with the Lord occurred when I carved out time to “get away.” Because the college was located in a small town, it was often difficult to find a place where there weren’t at least two or three other students. However, I discovered that God is more than happy to meet me in the woods on a weekday afternoon, in an empty classroom 30 minutes before class started, in the car driving to work, or even in my room before everyone else awoke.

The discipline of silence and solitude is not just for those in monasteries. It is not something that is out of reach or something we can excuse away with our busy schedules. We simply need to seize the moments that allow us to focus on Christ, even if it is just in the few minutes before we wake up or before we go to bed. It is amazing to think about how much time we spend commuting to and from work or running errands. We could easily choose to spend that time praying, reviewing Scripture, or praising God for his incredible attributes instead of simply turning on the radio.

Life does not present us with blocks of time when absolutely nothing is planned, when nothing needs to be done, and when no one needs our attention. The demands on our time seem to grow greater as we get older, as does our need for refreshment. It may take creativity and persistence, but it is well worth our effort to find those special times and places where we can get alone with our Savior.

© 2005 by FamilyLife. All rights reserved.