Dangerous Prayers: Because Following Jesus Was Never Meant to Be Safe

by Craig Groeschel

God hates showy prayers, so there’s no pressure, no right way other than being open and honest with him.

Instead of long, loud, and fancy, the prayers that move God are simple, authentic, and heartfelt. But simple is not the same as safe.

Prayers are inherently dangerous. This idea about prayer dawned on me while reading about Jesus talking to his Father in the garden of Gethsemane, just a short time before he gave his life on the cross. Knowing what was ahead, Jesus asked God if there was any other way. Then Jesus, not just a regular disciple or a person in the Bible, but J-E-S-U-S, the Son of God, prayed a vulnerable and dangerous prayer of submission: “Yet I want your will to be done, not mine” (Luke 22:42 NLT).

Jesus never asks us to do something he wouldn’t do himself. He calls us to a life of faith, not a life of comfort.

In the next three sections of this book, we’ll attempt to stretch our faith, expand our hearts, and open our lives to God praying these three dangerous prayers: Search me. Break me. Send me.

‘One thing you lack,’ he said. ‘Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me’” (Mark 10:21).

Jesus didn’t just challenge others to leave their own wills behind. He too lived a dangerous faith. He touched lepers. Showed grace to prostitutes. And stood bravely in the face of danger. Then he told us we could do what he did—and more.

Are you ready for more? Are you sick of playing it safe? Are you ready to pray daring, faith-filled, God-honoring, life-changing, world-transforming prayers? If you are, then this book is for you. But be warned. There will be bumps. When you start to pray things like “search me, break me, send me,” you may experience valleys. Attacks. Trials. Pain. Hardship. Discouragement. Even heartbreak. But there will also be the joy of faith, the marvel of miracles, the relief of surrender, and the pleasure of pleasing God. It’s time to stop praying safe. It’s time to start talking, really talking—and really listening—to God. It’s time for dangerous prayers.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. —psalm 139:23–24

Praying from the heart is personal and unmistakable.

“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Ps. 13:1–2).

But I’m afraid many of us aren’t comfortable praying openly and freely. We assume there’s a right way or a better way or a more eloquent way. We tend to stumble into ruts and pray for the same things over and over. We get bored with our prayers. And if we get bored praying, then I wonder if we’re really praying.

Your prayers matter. How you pray matters. What you pray matters. Your. Prayers. Move. God.

We’re told in the Bible that we can “come boldly to the throne of our gracious God” (Heb. 4:16a NLT). We don’t have to approach timidly or feel awkward—we can come before him with confidence, assurance, and boldness. When we pray this way, then “we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most” (Heb. 4:16b NLT).

If you call out to him, God assures you that he hears the cries of your heart.

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Ps. 139:23–24).

“The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?” (Jer. 17:9 NLT).

It’s easy to pretend we are good at heart, but the Bible teaches us that our heart deceives us and is desperately wicked. At its core, our heart is all about self—not Christ. It’s about what’s temporary—not eternal. It’s about what’s easy—not what’s right. It’s obsessed with what we want—not what God wants.

Our ways are not God’s ways. That’s why we need Christ.

Not just to forgive us, but to transform us. To redirect us. To make us new.

The most common lies are the ones we tell ourselves.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8).

“These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isa. 29:13).

I realized the closer I got to Jesus, the more I’d have to face my shortcomings.

Instead of simply asking God to do something for you, ask God to reveal something in you.

It’s a dangerous prayer. But it’s one that could redirect your life. “Search me, God.”