Dear God

One of my earliest memories is of my parents teaching me to pray one night at bedtime. I was four or five years old, and the prayer was simple yet powerful: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray dear Lord, my soul, to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” After they turned out the light and left, I had trouble sleeping because I was fascinated that I could talk to the Creator of the universe. It felt like a confirmation of something I already knew.

In his comprehensive book, Prayer, pastor and author Tim Keller defines prayer as “a personal, communicative response to the knowledge of God. All human beings have some knowledge of God available to them. At some level, they have an indelible sense that they need something or someone who is on a higher plane and infinitely greater than they are. Prayer is seeking to respond and connect to that being and reality, even if it is no more than calling out into the air for help.” (Prayer, p. 45)

After awakening to the idea of talking to God, I continued to pray throughout my childhood, mostly asking for help but also figuring out what to make of this invisible being.

As the years passed and I grew, my prayers evolved to include not only laundry lists of wants and needs for me and others but questions too. I also shared a lot of feelings with God, but I didn’t wait around very long for His responses. I’m still learning how to listen.

My parents didn’t attend church when I was young, so I asked them to drop me off. I loved Sunday School and memorizing Bible verses. Eventually, I started attending worship services, reading devotionals from The Upper Room booklets I found in the foyer, and trying to pay attention to the sermon. The more I learned about God at church and in the Bible, the more we had to talk about when I prayed.

Finally, by age twelve, I had learned about Jesus and decided I wanted what He offered, so I prayed a new kind of praying, asking to receive it. I didn’t take the decision lightly – I knew it would change everything.

One noticeable change was in my feeble prayer life – it grew exponentially because I had help. Keller says, “In the book of Acts, prayer is one of the main signs that the Spirit has come into the heart through faith in Christ. The Spirit gives us the confidence and desire to pray to God and enables us to pray even when we don’t know what to say.” (p. 27)

Still, here I am, four decades later, feeling like there’s an ocean to discover, and I’ve only snorkeled in one cove. But even as I explore how to communicate with God and know Him more, I have no doubts about why I pray. There are many answers to that question.

As in my childhood, I have always prayed because I know God is listening. But after becoming a Christian, I had a new reason: the Bible says to do it. Jesus even taught us how, and talking to God was essential to His life and ministry. Jesus loved spending time alone with God, and I understand why now. I find that the more I know Him, the more I want to spend time with Him.

I also feel driven to pray because I am riddled with concerns and problems. Too weak and powerless to do much of anything about them by myself, I share everything with God, handing over every troubled thought. Talking with God is empowering in my helplessness and always leaves me feeling relieved.

Prayer is also how I ask God for forgiveness and find the strength to turn away from wrong behaviors, thoughts, and words. I pray about sin with sadness but also peace because I know God loves me in Christ, and He is well aware of all my issues anyway. I can confess my rotten thoughts and deeds (or at least the ones I can see) and know I am not only forgiven but that He will redeem them. But if He already knows them, why confess? Somehow, in the honesty of those admissions, my trust in God grows.

Through prayer (in concert with reading the Bible), God corrects my view of things, calibrating what I think and believe to the truth. This means I don’t always get to keep doing things my way. Instead, God shows me the way to Himself. For example, I’ll recognize that I’m seeking security through worldly institutions or other people, and He will gently transform my thinking to see that He is my strength and shelter and I am safe in Him.

Prayer helps me see more clearly who I am now and who I am meant to be in Christ. I read what He says in the Bible, then talk to Him about where I am. The gap is large. In dialogue with God, my inner self is brought into closer alignment with my outer self; integrity becomes possible. Through prayer, God takes all the parts of me: body, mind, spirit – and slowly makes me whole. This process humbles me but makes me feel hopeful at the same time.

A life without prayer is impossible for me to contemplate because talking with God is the lifeline to the air my soul breathes – it’s encountering God. Keller says, “There is a longing in prayer that is never fulfilled in this life” (p. 30), and I completely agree. Until the eternal portion of my life begins, prayer is my connection to the One who gave me life, sustains my life, and gives me eternal life. It’s like exchanging letters with a loved one who’s far, far away. Conversation with God is essential to growing closer and getting to know Him better until I see Him in person.

There are many more reasons why I talk with God. But together, they boil down to the fact that He is my friend. I don’t understand why God would want to be my friend, but rather than questioning it, why not rest in it? Together, we process every facet of life and faith. He is always available and will never leave, fail, lie, or die. Even if everything and everyone else falls away, He remains, and He is good.

The God of the universe and Creator of all things tells me to pray, listens to my heart, and shares His heart with me. I don’t need to know how it works; I only know I have an audience with the King, and I’m not turning Him down.

*Keller, Timothy. (2014). Prayer. New York, NY: Penguin Books.