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Three Reasons Prayer Is So Difficult


(Image by Himsan from Pixabay) 

Prayer has never been easy for me. I have known for a long time that it is far easier for me to spend an hour in Bible study than it is to spend 15 minutes in prayer.

Before our most recent monthly pastors luncheon, we were told that we would be discussing our prayer lives. That didn’t sound like much fun, so I wrote to Joel, a pastor friend who would be at the meeting, “Sorry I won’t make it this month. I’ve got another lunch appointment. Besides, talking about my prayer life will only make me feel guilty.” 

It was true that I had a schedule conflict. But it wasn’t true that I was sorry that I had a schedule conflict. I was relieved.

Why is prayer so hard for me? There are several reasons, of course:

1. Prayer is hard because my mind wanders so much. 

I’ve heard it called “prayer ADHD.” And it’s a real thing, at least for me. Staying focused while I pray is hard work, something I’ve never done well. (Sometimes praying aloud helps here.)

2. Prayer is hard because it doesn’t seem to be a good use of time. 

Prayer is waiting on God, not doing something for God, and that makes prayer seem inefficient. I’ve heard it called “ROI,” return on investment, thinking about time spent in prayer in terms that would resonate with an efficiency expert. 

Now that I put it into words, it seems almost blasphemous to suggest that in praying I might be wasting precious time. Still, when I pray there is that nagging sense that I could be doing something more productive.

But the deepest problem with my prayer life runs deeper than my attention span or even my warped time-management priorities. The deepest problem with my prayer life is with my character.

3. Prayer is hard because I am arrogant. 

When I strip away the self-justifying excuses, I see the real reason prayer is hard: I somehow imagine that I don’t really need to pray, as if prayer is some kind of take-it-or-leave-it extra credit assignment. 

But this, of course, is far from the truth. 

Whenever Moses faced a crisis, he was down on his face seeking God. Crisis after crisis drove Moses to prayer.

When Nehemiah heard that Jerusalem was in ruins, his countenance fell. When his boss (the king of Persia) noticed his downcast expression and asked what was wrong, and Nehemiah had the presence of mind to pray before he answered. 

And even Jesus, God in human flesh, committed time to prayer. Once, after a busy day of ministry, Jesus rose the next day before dawn to meet with His Father in prayer. 

He prayed all night before naming the Twelve. 

And he prayed with such passion in Gethsemane that he sweat droplets of blood. 

Moses needed to pray, Nehemiah needed to pray, even Jesus needed to pray. So who do I think I am that I don’t need to pray?

THE REALLY GOOD NEWS ABOUT MY PRAYER LIFE

My pastor friend Joel helped me see that this is another place where I must “preach the gospel to myself.” The Gospel – the good news about Jesus – isn’t about what I have done or what I should do. The Gospel is about what Christ has done for me, what He continues to do on my behalf.

Joel helped me view my struggles with prayer through the lens of the gospel. He responded graciously to my confession that prayer is hard by reminding me of two precious biblical truths: “Don't feel guilty,” he said. “Jesus is your priest and the Spirit prays for you.”

This is good to know, and this is the gospel I must preach to myself in my struggling prayer life: that Jesus my high priest pleads before the Father for this distracted, workaholic, arrogant man (Heb 7:25), and the Spirit intercedes for me “with groanings too deep for words” (Rom 8:26, ESV).

Persevere. 


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