Learning to Pray by Praying
I heard a statement the other day by a writer I love (Andrew Peterson—songwriter, poet, novelist, if you’re interested). He was asked what some are of his favorite books on the writing process, and his answer struck a deep resonance with me. To paraphrase him: “Oftentimes I read those books because I’m procrastinating on actually writing. So I prefer the books that give me a broad overview and then force me to sit down and get to work. You learn to write by writing.” It stuck with me, mind you, because I myself am a bit of a procrastinator.
The Difficulty of Prayer
It got me thinking about another area of my life in which I often find myself procrastinating: prayer. Prayer rarely comes easily to me. More often than not, I sit down to actually pray and immediately I hear this loud voice of resistance rise up in my mind with all of the reasons why I shouldn’t be praying. “There are so many things to do today. You need to get ahead of your to-do list.” “Don’t you feel so awkward talking to someone who’s invisible?” “You shouldn’t pray for that, it’s too small to care about (or it’s too big for you to speak into!)” “Do you really think he’s listening?” These questions often sidetrack me into thinking about prayer (and about why I’m so bad at it) instead of praying.
I’d like to suggest that the best way we learn to pray is by praying. I’d also like to suggest that the only way we quiet those voices is by praying anyway—even praying about those questions themselves!
Jesus and Prayer
Jesus didn’t give his disciples a rulebook for prayer. Instead, he gave them a compelling vision for it. He taught them principles, like the fact that “the Father knows what [we] need before [we] ask him.” (Matt. 6:8) He told them that it’s the “Father’s good pleasure to give [them] the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32) He gave them the “Lord’s Prayer,” but most people agree that this was not meant to be prescriptive, but rather it suggests a posture of prayer that is seeking the kingdom of God and remembering that he cares about things as simple as “our daily bread.” But even before that, he had been modeling a vibrant life of prayer for his disciples, and he continued to invite them to “desolate places” away from the crowds where they could imitate him and learn to pray by praying themselves.
Reading and Prayer
There are some fantastic books out there on the subject of prayer. Some of my favorites are With Christ in the School of Prayer by Andrew Murray, Prayer by Richard Foster, and Prayer by Tim Keller (I suppose with so many books on the subject, they were limited when it comes to original titles). But none of the books I’ve read on prayer made it easier to pray. They showed me a vision of prayer from the Scriptures, offered some suggestions on types of prayer and techniques for engaging in rhythms of prayer, but they never have removed the simple necessity of getting myself to sit still in the morning (or evening, or whenever) and talking with God.
I don’t want to discourage reading—I love to read, and the ease with which we can access the words of saints who have gone before us is a gift that God’s people have not always enjoyed. But at the end of the day, I still have to sit down and pray. I might fumble at the words. I might be clumsy. But every time I allow the concern over my eloquence to keep me from bowing my knees and praying, I think the enemy has won a small victory.
The Doorway of Prayer
Mary Oliver has this short poem on prayer:
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.[1]
I love this one. Prayer isn’t a contest for elaborate words, but a doorway into a place where “it is good to give thanks to the Lord” (Psalm 92), and a silent waiting into which we may hear God in the “sound of a low whisper” (1 Kings 19:12). Sometimes our prayers are as beautiful as a blue iris opening in the spring, sometimes they’re as ordinary as weeds poking up through cracks in the concrete. The point is to continually offer them to God, regardless of their eloquence.
Opportunities for Intimacy
Some of us may have a lot more time on our hands these days. What would it look like to take some of that time as an invitation to pray? Maybe we have far less time on our hands because we’re homeschooling—that might still be an invitation, but perhaps out of desperation! Maybe we are frustrated. Scared. Lonely. I know I’ve felt many of those things in recent days. All of those things are welcome in prayer. All of those things are opportunities for intimacy with God. Perhaps all of those things are what Paul referred to when he invited us to “let our requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:6-7)
So if you’ve got the time, read some books on prayer. They’re helpful. But then, put all the books away, ask Jesus to teach you, and learn to pray by praying.
-Mathis Turley
[1] Oliver, Mary. “Prayer.” Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver. Penguin Press, an Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2017.