Before Amen: The Power of a Simple Prayer

by Max Lucado

On tearstained pillows we pray. In grand liturgies we pray. At the sight of geese in flight, we pray. Quoting ancient devotions, we pray.

But wouldn’t we all like to pray . . . More? Better? Deeper? Stronger? With more fire, faith, or fervency?

And we have our checkered history with prayer: unmet expectations, unanswered requests. We can barely genuflect for the scar tissue on our knees.

Do you think the disciples made the prayer–power connection? “Lord, teach us to pray like that. Teach us to find strength in prayer. To banish fear in prayer. To defy storms in prayer. To come off the mountain of prayer with the authority of a prince.”

Prayer is not a privilege for the pious, not the art of a chosen few. Prayer is simply a heartfelt conversation between God and his child.

Prayer really is that simple. Resist the urge to complicate it. Don’t take pride in well-crafted prayers. Don’t apologize for incoherent prayers. No games. No cover-ups. Just be honest—honest to God. Climb into his lap. Tell him everything that is on your heart. Or tell him nothing at all. Just lift your heart to heaven and declare, Father . . . Daddy . . . And sometimes “Daddy” is all we can muster. Stress. Fear. Guilt. Grief. Demands on all sides. All we can summon is a plaintive “Oh, Father.” If so, that’s enough.

Most people suffer from small thoughts about God. In an effort to see him as our friend, we have lost his immensity.

May I make a suggestion? Before you face the world, face your Father.

Pieces don’t fit. Wine runs out. Water bottles burst. These are facts of life. But Jesus responds with this invitation: “Bring your problems to me.” State them simply. Present them faithfully, and trust him reverently.

God’s goal for you is wholeness.

The Fall was exactly that: a fall from wholeness.

Sickness and sin still stalk our planet. But here is the difference: neither sin nor sickness will have dominion over God’s people. Sin cannot condemn us. Disease cannot destroy us. Guilt is defanged, and death has lost its sting.

Unresolved guilt sires a gaggle of unhealthy emotions. Most of them fit under one of two headings: defensiveness or defeat.

Understand: guilt is God’s idea. He uses it the way highway engineers use rumble strips. When we swerve off track, they call us back. Guilt does the same. It leaves us “more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible” (2 Cor. 7:11 MSG). Guilt alerts us to the discrepancies between what we are and what God desires. It stirs repentance and renewal. In appropriate doses guilt is a blessing. In unmonitored dosages, however, guilt is an unbearable burden. We cannot carry it.

Shouldn’t we do the same? You are never more like Jesus than when you pray for others. Pray for those you love; pray for those you don’t. Pray for this hurting world. Present their case to the Giver of bread. And bring a grocery basket. God will give you plenty of blessings to take back to them.

Ingratitude is the original sin.

Don’t be too quick in your assessment of God’s gifts to you. Thank him. Moment by moment.