I once read about a man’s visit to a remote monastery. The monks living at the monastery had devoted their lives to prayer. During his visit, the man asked one of the monks, “I suppose you’ve had some real struggles over the years with the devil in prayer?” To the man’s dismay, the monk surprisingly answered, “No, not really, but I’ve had some real struggles with God.”

Prayer is often a struggle in our Christian lives. I personally struggle with prayer. What is most disconcerting to me, however, is that my struggles are becoming more frequent and intense as I grow older.

I know what it is to pray with a spirit of prayer and to pray until I’ve prayed through. I also know what it’s like to cough up some verbiage, spit it out, and feel it all blow back in my face. There are times when I know my prayer has soared into the third heaven and made its way into the throne room of the universe, and other times when I know that my prayer failed to rise above the ceiling. 

I’ve prayed at times with God-given burdens and Spirit-inspired passion. I’ve cried out for others with a fervency inexplicable apart from the white-hot flames of the Holy Spirit burning in my heart. Still, more than I ever care to admit, I’ve prayed a many a prayer reminiscent of the words of Shakespeare: “Words without thoughts to Heaven never go.”

I fondly recall some of the old saints in my old home church praying, “And God remember all of those for whom duty binds us to pray.” Of course, this was their way of making sure that all of those who had slipped their minds didn’t fall through the cracks of their intercession. Another way of safeguarding others from falling through the safety net of our prayers is the popular “Tiny Tim” approach—“God bless everyone.” Yet, no matter what prayer gimmick we employ, prayers void of earnestness leave us with feelings of inadequacy in our intercession for others. 

In all honesty, I seldom find myself praying for others as I would want them to pray for me. If the roles were reversed and you were in need and others were on their knees, would you be uplifted or downhearted by others praying for you the same way you pray for them? As painful as it is for me to admit, I’d be ashamed for some people to know the scant supplication I’ve tossed up to heaven on their behalf. If I were in their shoes and they were in mine, I would certainly hope for more from their prayers than what they’ve gotten from mine.

Many is the time that I’ve tried to pray; the optimal word here being “tried.” I tried, but never pulled it off. In my personal experience, prayer has proven to be the greatest thrill and blessing of my Christian life. On the other hand, nothing has been more discouraging and frustrating than those times when I’ve set out to pray but came up far short of any real heartfelt supplication. 

The champion of all prayer warriors, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, He who “ever lives to make intercession” (Hebrews 7:25), taught us “always to pray, and not to faint.” Therefore, regardless of whether we are being carried along by the river of the Spirit in our prayer lives or find ourselves crying out to God from a dry riverbed, we must never cease to pray (1 Thessalonians 5:17). Regardless of whether we find our intercession for others satisfactory or miserably insufficient, we must always make mention of them in our prayers to God (Ephesians 6:18). And regardless of whether prayer is presently wafting us into God’s presence or proving to be more of a wrestling match with God, we must keep on praying and never give up, never give out, and never give in.

“I may no longer depend on pleasant impulses to bring me before the Lord. I must rather respond to principles I know to be right, whether I feel them to be enjoyable or not.” (Jim Elliot)