... He's always speaking, but maybe it requires becoming a child again to hear Him.
I was feeling under the weather. As Ben and I cuddled under the cool comforter beneath us, I could tell the seasons were changing. More than the time changes' typical blues, I could feel a cold coming on.
Anxiety rose in my chest and my mind. There's nothing I hate more than growing ill. It's something I can't control. Nevertheless, it bothers me. Slows me down. Brings confusion and discomfort.
Isn't it uncomfortable for all of us?
In the stillness, I flipped open the page to our daily devotional. We hadn't been super consistent in reading one as a married couple, but we were trying. The cooler temperatures outside made it easier, however. Darker shades causing night to fall earlier instilled a sense of habit.
The devotional touched on not allowing bitterness, sin, or hatred to build up in one's heart. Our heartfelt conversations and confessions ended in a prayer. A prayer that Ben wanted me to say for each of us.
I was caught off guard.
Do You Struggle to Pray?
"You don't want me to pray," I noted.
"Why not?" he asked gently, caressing my hair, moving it from my eyes to the side.
I shielded my eyes from his vision. I didn't necessarily mean to, but I was ashamed of my answer. I felt like I didn't know how. I didn't have the strength, energy, or drive. I felt embarrassed. Weak. Weary. Worn. Famished.
How did I get here? I asked myself, shaking my head from side to side.
Why can't I just talk to God?
In my mind, a chorus of thoughts broke out:
Close your eyes.
Fold your hands.
Bow your head.
Silence the mind.
Can't I just talk to God?
Don't say too much.
You're repeating words.
Does He hear what I say?
Did you complain?
Have you thanked Him today?
Can't I just talk to God?
Can We Just Talk To God?
"Babe." Ben looked at me intently. I was shaking my head from side to side, not wanting to grant his request. It was as if he knew the chorus replaying in my mind. Taking my hands in his, he breathed deeply, encouraging me to match his simple stride.
"Just talk to God." His words pulled me out of my thoughts and into the Lord's heart.
Mustering what strength I had left, I said something to the effect of this:
"Hi, God. It's me, Amber. I'm not really sure what to say, but I pray for Ben and me. I pray for our health and healing because honestly, we're struggling. I pray for joy and a peace that surpasses that understanding. I pray for our families, especially my parents who are having a really hard time. I pray for reassurance of salvation. I know that your word says those who confess Jesus as Lord and believe God raised Him from the dead will be saved, but I'm struggling. I believe, but then I overthink my belief. I often feel like that can't be enough. Comfort Ben and I in this because we struggle. I think this is why I hate reading about and hearing end-times sermons because I'm scared. Scared I'll be left behind. Scared my faith wasn't genuine. Scared I'll have lived a lie. Please heal my anxiety and depression. Heal my health issues. Do what only you can do. We love you, God. Help us to know you more. I don't know why talking to you is so hard, but I don't want it to be. Amen."
As a writer, it's hard for me to share this prayer with you. It isn't poetic. It certainly is wordy. And the strings I've strung together are hardly what I'd call developed sentences. But when I prayed that prayer, I meant it. I felt things break loose. I felt real.
I sighed in relief. I didn't know how Ben would react to such a prayer. His words were a balm to my soul:
"That was beautiful. Childlike. Humble. Honest. Real. Perfect. Exactly what prayer is supposed to be."
How to Talk to God
He was right. As much as we like to think there are prescriptions for the Christian faith, including prayer, there really aren't.
What God desires most is for you to communicate openly and honestly with Him. Regardless of how poised our thoughts come out, and regardless of our repetition, or lack of fancy words, He desires our hearts.
Jesus' guidelines for prayer, found in Luke 11:1-4, were never meant to become legalistic or controlling.
"One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, 'Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.' He said to them, “When you pray, say: “‘Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation’” (Luke 11:1-4, NIV).
They were an example of how to pray. But we are human beings, becoming more like Him on a daily basis. It's a process to thank God first and then ask Him for the desires of your heart later. Don't let these struggles stop you from praying. What matters is that you're talking to God. Not how "properly," or "formal," you think you are or should be.
It really is that simple. Talking to God requires talking. But you aren't just blowing smoke or trying to phrase proper statements. You're real, honest, raw, and vulnerable. Most importantly, you're listening as much as you speak.
Becoming Like a Child
Friend, I hope this encourages you today. To know that childlike prayers are the prayers God desires. Not because we're not smart enough to craft poetic words and phrases, but because when we're vulnerable, transparent, and honest, mostly like children, that's when we best connect with the Lord.
In Matthew 6:5, Jesus reminds us why childlike prayers are of greater value than highly sophisticated pleas we never really meant in the first place:
"And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full" (Matthew 6:5, NIV).
Your prayers are between you and God. They aren't a show. They aren't on display for judgment. And they certainly aren't required to sound and look a certain way. Yes, Jesus models for us how to pray, but at the end of the day, He desires us to be real with Him. He desires us to speak and listen. Learning to not only talk but hear when He speaks. Because He's always speaking, but maybe it requires becoming a child again to hear Him.
Agape, Amber
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Bohdan Bevz
