Georgia is a peculiar place. I say this not to rag on my new home, but to point out that, being raised in Texas, I thought I knew what Southern culture was. I thought I understood what peaches should taste like, what “old” was, and how to avoid mosquito bites. I thought I knew what working from home would be like, how much easier it would be to keep up an exercise schedule, and where I would make friends.
Ha.
I thought I had a handle on what God had planned for us here, but as always, I was surprised. I have stumbled through challenges that I didn’t expect. I’ve met amazing people by bizarre happenstance. I’ve been given opportunities that scare and excite me. So I have been praying a lot lately. It’s what I do when life feels a little—or a lot—out of my control.
Prayer is a dialogue with God, but I oftentimes treat it like a monologue. I treat God like a slot machine, putting nickels in, pulling the handle, and hoping I get lucky. I pray as a bargaining tool, and if God would just give me this one thing, it would give me enough strength to work harder to serve Him in specific areas of life. None of these habits lead to a healthy prayer life, or an accurate picture of my relationship with God. They lead to a sense of entitlement that breeds bitterness, frustration, and loss of trust.
Monologuing
With my closest friends and family, I often ask questions and then forget to listen to their answers. Because who has time to listen when I’m too busy preparing the next thing I want to say? It is a conscious effort to stay focused on listening, and that’s hard for me. Too often, I treat other people as if they are a wall off which to bounce my thoughts rather than a person who deserves to be respected and heard. With God, I shoot my requests, desires, burdens, and even gratitude into space, hoping they will be well received on the other side of a one-way wormhole. Then I return to juggling and hope that God will check “yes” and send my prayer slips back, but that just doesn’t work.
“And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. And the Lord came and stood, calling as at other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant hears.”1
Unlike in 1 Samuel 3, when I monologue at God, I forget to listen for his answers and get absorbed by the difficulty of my own efforts. I exhaust myself all day battering at the wall, only to sleep so soundly that I miss God’s call. Even when I do notice his answers, I sometimes forget to acknowledge them (especially if they’re an answer I don’t like), and then I forget about them entirely. I decided recently that I don’t want to continue praying like this. So I started a prayer journal. Since I’m a minimalist and I find journaling by hand annoying, at least once a day, I simply pencil in a date and description of my prayer. At the end of each week, I’ll read over the prayers and mark the ones that have been answered with the date. Having this record will help me remember and rejoice when a prayer is answered, and will get me in the habit of remembering to listen to God.
Gambling
When I gamble with my prayers, I am distrusting God. I distrust God because I hate suffering and I want Him to alleviate it, but I don’t believe He will. Despite the many times he has intervened in my life, when I suffer, I sometimes blame God. I forget his goodness, and I treat him like a mathematical force that will sometimes weigh in my favor if I pester it long enough. Chance is a cruel god to rely on, however, and this view of God makes my prayers stale and mechanical.
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.2
When I feel particularly helpless, I will strive to remember the true nature of God—that He wants the best for me, that He wants an authentic relationship with me, and that His Grace is sufficient to effect change in my reality. With this belief, my prayers become vibrant expressions of this hope, and I pray for His will to be fulfilled through me. Christ’s sacrifice means that my suffering is temporal, and He gives me the strength to endure.
Bargaining
Pleading for an exchange of favors with God is extremely corrosive and extremely common. I do it most often with “high stakes” prayers, or when a habitual sin of mine has been revealed and I don’t want to face it. I find myself praying these prayers when I don’t know God’s will, and I think (in my infinite wisdom) that if I could only convince God to agree with me, then life will be better. James (the brother of Jesus) addresses this in his epistle.
“You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. Or do you suppose it is to no purpose that the Scripture says, “He yearns jealously over the spirit that he has made to dwell in us”? But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.”3
When I bargain selfishly for worldly things in my prayers, I forget that God’s perspective is so much bigger than mine, and again I misunderstand the nature of our relationship. God is perfection, and can accept no less. That’s why he sent Jesus. Both Savior and mediator, he bore the burden of my failings so I can confidently ask for and accept the full blessing of God—no bargaining necessary.
By monologuing, gambling, and bargaining, I often pray ineffectively. I need regular help and accountability. I certainly hope I’m not the only one. Perhaps some of you have similar experiences with prayer. The fact that I can express these things gives me great hope that I can improve, running to God when my skills and knowledge and efforts aren’t effective, and rejoicing when I am blessed beyond my wildest expectations.
Above all, these things reinforce my belief that God is guiding me as I carve out my new life in this little town. With its college students, muddy rivers, and ever-changing street names, Athens will soon be home.
1. 1 Samuel 3:8-10
2. Romans 5:1-5
3. James 4:2b-8
2. Romans 5:1-5
3. James 4:2b-8
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