It's just Me Abby

Once upon a time, the children of God prayed.

They spent the early hours of the morning on their knees, welcoming the presence of God into their souls.

Prayer itself was the work. John Wesley began every day at 4 a.m., spending the first two hours in prayer. Martin Luther, facing an overwhelming workload, is said to have spent the first three hours of his day in prayer. These men—and so many others—were keenly aware of their limitations and their deep need for the hand of God to move within them before He moved among them. 

Today, we think well of our spirituality and devotion if we give ourselves mere minutes in the discipline of prayer each day. We make sincere efforts to lift a prayer up for others, we cry out to God when we face hardships, we seek His face for direction, and we frequently ask for His safety as we go. We cast our cares and burdens onto Him, and yet we continue to carry them with us after we breathe out our amens.  

Was this the objective of the Law and the Prophets when instructing the children of Israel to observe the prayerful Shema? Was this what Jesus intended when He taught His disciples how to pray? I am just not convinced it was.

Jesus Himself modeled a life of desperation for intimacy with the Father. He frequently withdrew to lonely places to pray; He often rose early, while it was still dark, to be with His Father; He sometimes spent entire nights on His knees. 

And with each word I type, I am terribly aware that I have no right to speak on this topic with any authority. My prayer life should not be replicated but rather used as the example of what not to do. 

I have the sincerest desires and intentions to become the very prayer warrior that I write of, but my weak mind is as the disciples who fell asleep in the garden of Gethsemane: preoccupied or fatigued. If you’ve noticed, you in none of the gospel accounts did Jesus coddle or cheer His disciples after finding them in repose. No, He confronted them and called them weak. 

Yet even in their weakness, Jesus gave them two graces. 

First, He acknowledged their willingness to pray. This matters because prayer often becomes an obligation—a duty performed or favor sought. Yet God intended prayer to transform us, drawing us into oneness with Himself. Are we willing to draw near to Him? 

Second, Jesus did not leave His disciples asleep. He awakened them again and again. He gave them new starts.

And yet, how often do we find ourselves in the same condition—needing to be awakened from a prayer life that grows weary?

Prayer fatigue often comes from a monotonous prayer life: “Lord, be with me…bless me…help me…take care of me… provide for me…guide me…” The same one-dimensional prayers are recycled again and again for ourselves and others. These prayers are good starting points, but they remain shallow. How do we pray God’s will in a way that doesn’t simply start and end with, “Your will be done”?

Pray His Word.

I’m not just talking about isolated “popcorn” verses—I’m talking about whole chapters. In his book Pray the Bible, Donald Whitney suggests that a natural place to begin is the Psalms. These songs and prayers span the full range of human emotion and expression. As you slowly pray through a psalm—verse by verse, phrase by phrase—lifting to God every thought the Spirit stirs as you meditate on His Word, your heart and mind begin to align with His. Your prayer life comes alive with the very breath of God. 

May God now and always awaken us to become people of prayer, who encounter His presence, are filled with His Spirit, and are transformed by His power.