Tag: Prayer

Are You Listening?

In the past God spoke to our ancestors at many times and in many ways through the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us in a son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he created the world.—Hebrews 1:1-2 (NET)

God is not silent. From the beginning, He has revealed Himself in countless ways: through creation, through the prophets, and ultimately through Jesus Christ. The stars in the night sky declare His majesty, and every breath we take is evidence of His sustaining power. But His greatest revelation came through His Son, who stepped into our world to make God known and to reconcile us to Him. God continues to speak today, not sporadically, but continually. If we don’t see it, it’s not because God isn’t speaking—it’s because we’re not listening.

Consider how Jesus often said, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” It’s a challenge, not just to hear words, but to truly listen, to pay attention, and to respond. The Word of God isn’t static. It’s living and active (Hebrews 4:12). When we engage with Scripture, we encounter the voice of God. When we pray, the Spirit intercedes and communicates with us. When we gather with other believers, God often speaks through them to encourage and challenge us. Even creation itself points to His character and heart. The heavens declare His glory, the skies proclaim His craftsmanship (Psalm 19:1), and the intricate balance of nature reflects His intentional design. Jesus Himself said that if people were silent, the stones would cry out (Luke 19:40). The question is not whether God is speaking; the question is whether we have ears to hear.

If God feels silent to you, consider whether it’s time to realign your heart and mind. Make time to study His Word, seek Him in prayer, and allow creation to remind you of His presence. The God who created the universe, who spoke through the prophets, and who gave His Son to us is still speaking today. Will you listen?

Embracing Contentment: When God Says No

Paul’s thorn in the flesh, as described in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, is a powerful reminder that God’s answers to prayer aren’t always what we want, but they are always what we need. Paul begged God three times to remove his thorn, but instead of removing it, God offered a profound assurance: “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” This wasn’t the answer Paul sought, but it was the one he needed to embrace contentment despite his circumstances.

How often do we find ourselves pleading for God to change our situation? Whether it’s a physical ailment, a relational wound, or a persistent obstacle, we want relief, solutions, and comfort. Yet, like Paul, we might hear “no” from God—not because He doesn’t care, but because His grace is shaping us into something greater. It’s in those moments of denial that we discover the richness of His presence and the depth of His sustaining power.

Contentment doesn’t come from having an easy life but from trusting a sovereign God. Paul could say, “I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ” because he understood that every “no” carried a greater purpose: “For whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” God’s power shines through our limitations, showing that our worth isn’t tied to self-sufficiency but to His all-sufficient grace.

When we embrace contentment, we’re choosing to rest in God’s plan rather than wrestle with it. We may not understand why the thorn remains, but we can trust that He is using it for His glory and our ultimate good. True peace comes not from the absence of struggle but from the presence of Christ in the struggle. His grace sustains us, and His power transforms our weakness into a testimony of His faithfulness.

What are you facing today that feels insurmountable? Have you brought it to God in prayer? If His answer is “no,” can you trust Him to provide the strength you need to endure? Contentment isn’t passive resignation; it’s active faith in the One who knows what’s best for us.

In a world that tells us to fight for comfort and control, Paul’s example invites us to a different way: to boast in our weaknesses and to find joy in God’s strength. When God says no, it’s not a rejection but an invitation—to trust deeper, to lean harder, and to experience His grace more fully than we ever thought possible.

On the Vulnerability of Leadership

Leadership can feel like walking a tightrope. On the one hand, leaders are expected to guide with wisdom, strength, and decisiveness. On the other, they are human—prone to weariness, doubt, and the need for support. Paul’s plea in Romans 15:30-32 offers a rare glimpse into the vulnerability of one of Christianity’s most influential leaders. He asks for prayer, not out of formality but out of deep need: “Now I urge you, brothers and sisters, through our Lord Jesus Christ and through the love of the Spirit, to join fervently with me in prayer to God on my behalf. Pray that I may be rescued from those who are disobedient in Judea and that my ministry in Jerusalem may be acceptable to the saints.”

Paul does not pretend to be above the struggles of ministry. He openly acknowledges his fears and uncertainties. His request for prayer demonstrates a profound truth: leadership is not about projecting invulnerability but about fostering mutual dependence on God. Paul’s words challenge the modern tendency to idolize leaders who seem “above it all.” True leaders, like Paul, recognize that their strength is not in isolation but in a community that prays and intercedes with them.

What does this mean for us? Whether we lead in a church, a family, or a workplace, we must resist the urge to act as if we have it all together. Paul’s example invites us to share our burdens—with discretion and wisdom—with those we trust. Vulnerability in leadership does not diminish respect; it deepens it. It creates space for God’s power to be made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Yet vulnerability requires courage. It means acknowledging that we do not have all the answers and that we cannot carry the weight of leadership alone. It also means inviting others to partner with us through prayer, encouragement, and accountability. Paul’s request to the Romans reminds us that even the greatest leaders need prayer warriors to stand in the gap for them.

Reflect on your leadership today. Have you created space for vulnerability, or are you trapped in the pressure to appear invincible? What struggles are you carrying that you need to bring to God in prayer? And who are the trusted people in your life with whom you can share these burdens?

Christ Himself modeled this in Gethsemane when He asked His disciples to watch and pray with Him. If Jesus, the perfect leader, embraced vulnerability, how much more should we? Let us lead with authenticity, inviting others to see not our perfection but our dependence on God, so His strength can shine through us.

In Defense of Peter

The account of Peter in Gethsemane is a stirring reminder of how human we are, even when we deeply desire to follow Jesus. Peter, who had walked with Christ, witnessed miracles, and even claimed he would follow Him to the death, shows us that the spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak (Matthew 26:41). We might critique Peter for his actions that night—falling asleep, impulsively wielding a sword, and then ultimately denying Jesus—but perhaps, his story is also ours. In Peter, we find relatable lessons that urge us toward deeper discipline, patience, and boldness in our faith.

At Gethsemane, Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to keep watch with Him during His agonizing prayer. But Peter’s spirit gave way to fatigue, and three times he fell asleep as Jesus wrestled with the reality of the cross. In these moments, we see a call to better discipline. Just as Peter needed discipline to stay awake and pray, we, too, are called to “watch and pray” that we do not fall into temptation. Distractions and weariness can easily pull us away from prayer and obedience, but discipline helps us continually seek God’s strength, especially in trying times.

Next, we see Peter’s struggle with patience. When the soldiers arrived to arrest Jesus, Peter acted instinctively, drawing his sword to protect his Lord. He acted out of zeal, but it wasn’t what Jesus had asked of him. Jesus had already made it clear that He must go to the cross, yet Peter acted on impulse, unwilling to wait for the Lord’s guidance. Here, we learn the importance of waiting on God, resisting the urge to take matters into our own hands. Jesus often leads us through unexpected paths, and patience allows us to stay in step with His timing, trusting that He has a purpose beyond what we can see.

Finally, after Jesus was arrested, Peter’s courage seemed to fade. Standing by the fire, surrounded by strangers, Peter denied knowing Jesus—not once, but three times. His boldness faltered when it was most needed. It is easy to judge Peter’s fear, but it’s also a moment to recognize our own hesitations to fully identify with Jesus. True boldness means openly claiming our faith, even when it feels risky. We may face fear, awkwardness, or discomfort, but Jesus is our strength. Through Him, we find the courage to stand firm, even when the stakes are high.

Peter’s journey in Gethsemane reminds us that Jesus isn’t looking for flawless followers—He seeks willing hearts. Yes, we may stumble as Peter did, but God’s grace meets us in our weakness. As we grow in discipline, patience, and boldness, we find that Jesus is always there, shaping us into people who are prepared to follow Him, even when it’s hard. Let’s remember that Jesus restored Peter after his denials and used him to build the Church. In the same way, He is patient with us, guiding us into lives that glorify Him, no matter how many times we fall.  

On Prayer: A Theological Treatise

Prayer is often seen as a lifeline, a means to reach out and align with God’s will. In John 17, we glimpse Jesus’ profound final prayer before His arrest, echoing themes that shape how we might deepen our own prayer lives. This passage brings forth reflections on God’s glory, unity among believers, and the ultimate purpose of prayer—seeking the Father’s will in the world. In John 17, we see a natural extension of the foundational principles Jesus taught in the “Lord’s Prayer,” also called the “Our Father,” which provides a template of humility, submission, and reverence. Comparing these two prayers enriches our understanding of Jesus’ theology of prayer, offering profound insights into why and how we, too, should pray.

Glorifying the Father: The Prayer’s Foundation

Both the “Our Father” and John 17 focus immediately on glorifying God. Jesus starts by acknowledging the Father’s glory, teaching us that prayer’s essence is rooted in elevating God’s character, authority, and holiness. The “Our Father” opens with “hallowed be Thy name,” directing the focus away from self and toward God’s sanctity. John 17 expands on this, with Jesus asking, “Father, the hour has come; glorify Your Son, that the Son may glorify You” (John 17:1). Here, Jesus models that glorification of the Father is inseparable from the life of obedience and humility. He shows us that through prayer, we align our desires with God’s purposes, leading to His glory as the ultimate goal.

In this light, we are reminded that effective prayer is less about what we want and more about what God desires. Jesus frames prayer as a means of drawing into God’s redemptive work, illustrating that glorifying God is not only a matter of words but also of aligning our lives with His purposes.

“Thy Kingdom Come”: Unity in Purpose and Fellowship

In the “Our Father,” Jesus teaches us to ask, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” This phrase invites believers to submit to God’s authority in every realm. John 17 further illuminates this concept as Jesus prays for unity, asking the Father to protect His followers and make them one as He and the Father are one (John 17:21). This unity is central to God’s kingdom vision—a community living under His reign, reflecting His love and holiness to the world.

Unity, as Jesus prayed for in John 17, isn’t merely harmonious living; it’s the fruit of shared allegiance to the Father’s purposes. He calls believers to unite not in conformity but in shared pursuit of divine will, realizing His kingdom in tangible ways. Unity and alignment with God’s kingdom are keys to effective prayer, fostering a perspective that prays not solely for personal desires but for the advancement of God’s purposes through the Church.

“Deliver Us from Evil”: The World and Sanctification

Jesus’ prayer also addresses protection and sanctification. In the “Our Father,” He asks the Father to “deliver us from evil,” a request mirrored in John 17 as Jesus asks, “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one” (John 17:15). This reveals a key theological stance: our lives are intended to intersect with the world, yet remain distinct from its influence. Jesus doesn’t call for withdrawal from worldly challenges but for perseverance within them, under God’s guidance.

This is a powerful call to engage the world while remaining consecrated to God’s service, highlighting prayer’s role in equipping us to remain faithful amid spiritual challenges. Sanctification, therefore, is not about isolation but about intentional living that embodies God’s truth. Prayer is both our line of defense and our sanctifying strength, rooting us in God’s purposes as we live among those who may oppose our faith.

The Purpose of Prayer: Alignment with God’s Heart

Both prayers embody one overarching purpose: to align us with God’s will, deepening our relationship with Him. The “Our Father” provides the structure, and John 17 provides the heart. As Jesus intercedes for His disciples, He shows that prayer is a means of transformation and connection, rather than simply a way to fulfill personal desires. Prayer shapes our hearts, aligning them with God’s, enabling us to desire His kingdom more deeply than our ambitions.

In closing, the purpose of prayer is not merely the action of requesting but the transformation that occurs as we enter God’s presence and submit to His purposes. It is in this ongoing relationship that our prayers become part of God’s work in the world, uniting us with His mission and character.

Pray, then, as Jesus did—not only to seek answers but to align your heart with the Father’s will, glorify His name, and live in His sanctifying presence. And as we pray, we come closer to fulfilling the Lord’s ultimate vision for His kingdom, empowered by a relationship that seeks Him above all else.

Humble, Not Hero

In Luke 22, Peter boldly declares that he’s ready to go to prison and even die for Jesus. It’s a passionate commitment, one that shows his desire to be faithful no matter what. But Jesus, in His wisdom, responds with words that pierce through Peter’s confidence: “I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me.” Peter is certain of his loyalty, yet Jesus knows what’s coming.

How often do we, in a burst of conviction, declare all we will do for God? Like Peter, we can find ourselves wrapped up in a fervor that makes us feel invincible. Yet, there’s a powerful truth here: God doesn’t need our grand statements of loyalty; He wants our surrendered hearts. Instead of telling Him how much we’re willing to do, maybe we should be asking where He wants us to go, allowing Him to direct our steps.

In those moments when we’re tempted to make big promises to God, perhaps it’s more humble and honoring to pause, listen, and ask Him to use us however He sees fit. This doesn’t mean avoiding bold steps of faith. It simply means approaching our relationship with God from a posture of humility, acknowledging that He knows our limits and, just as He did for Peter, offers grace when we fall short.

Jesus intercedes for us, even now, knowing our frailties and loving us through them. He calls us not to be heroes in our own strength but to be faithful followers, trusting that He will work through our willing hearts. When we let go of the need to prove our devotion and embrace a quiet openness to God’s leading, we’re finally in a position to let His strength shine in our weakness.

My Will Be Done, or Thy Will Be Done?

In John 12:37-50, we find Jesus quoting Isaiah 6:10, a passage where God says He will “blind their eyes and harden their hearts” so that they will not understand or turn to Him. On first glance, it sounds as though God is actively working to prevent people from believing. But as we dig deeper, a richer perspective emerges—one where human freedom and God’s sovereign plan are in a perfect, if mysterious, harmony.

I firmly believe all things happen under God’s design, but this doesn’t mean God coerces every choice or action. Instead, God knows every possible outcome—all the ways a free creature might respond in any given circumstance. He orchestrates the world in such a way that His purposes are fulfilled, but human choices are genuinely free. This view helps us understand Jesus’ reference to Isaiah. The passage wasn’t about God “forcing” people to resist belief. Rather, it was about His awareness of their hearts and how His message would be received given their predispositions.

See, in Isaiah, the people’s blindness wasn’t manufactured by God; it was the result of a longstanding resistance to His message. By the time Jesus was teaching, the religious leaders and many others had spent years ignoring God’s call to genuine worship and repentance. Jesus’ use of Isaiah’s words acknowledges that these people would continue to resist, not because God forced them to but because they chose to close their hearts. God’s sovereignty allowed Him to use even their resistance to further His plans.

We might think of it like this: God’s will is broad enough to encompass both the willing and the unwilling, the faithful and the resistant. When someone continually resists, God may allow them to experience the consequences of their choice, but that choice is theirs. It is this deep respect for freedom that underscores the entire message of Jesus in the Gospels. He offers salvation, but He doesn’t coerce it.

Jesus’ example shows us how divine sovereignty and human freedom work together. Every time we choose to follow Him, we participate in God’s grand design, bringing His purposes to fruition in the world. The key difference lies in whose will we are choosing to follow. Will it be our will, with all its limitations and potential missteps, or will it be His will, which is perfect and ultimately fulfilling?

The question, “My will be done, or Thy will be done?” is one we face every day. Like those who encountered Jesus, we each have the choice to turn toward God and align with His purposes, allowing Him to work through us. Though we’re free to choose otherwise, God’s invitation remains open—a gracious reminder that His will is always toward life, restoration, and purpose.

Tainted Love

Jesus’ prayer for Lazarus, offered publicly just before He called Lazarus from the tomb, was intentional and direct. It wasn’t a show of personal piety but a clear call to witness God’s power so that “they may believe that you sent me” (John 11:42). Jesus demonstrated that public faith—done for the right reasons—can have a profound impact. Like a light set on a hill, some faith acts are meant to be seen, leading others toward the hope we have in God.

This concept isn’t new in Scripture. Daniel famously prayed in front of an open window despite a law against it, standing firm in his dedication to God regardless of who saw or what consequences he faced (Daniel 6:10). His actions, like Jesus’ prayer, pointed beyond himself to the God who is worthy of trust even in hostile circumstances. Public faith like this shines in humility, not self-promotion, serving to inspire courage and commitment in others.

Yet, we’re also cautioned about letting public expressions of faith become tainted love—acts done for personal validation rather than God’s glory. Jesus criticized the Pharisees for practicing righteousness to be “seen by men” (Matthew 6:1), aiming not to glorify God but to elevate their own image. Their so-called love for God was tainted by a desire for recognition, and Jesus makes it clear that this approach leads nowhere.

For us, the challenge is simple yet profound: we can and should live our faith openly, but only if the aim is to lead others to God rather than elevating ourselves. True love for God will be untainted by pride, focused on glorifying Him in all we do. So, the next time we feel led to act in faith publicly, let’s pause and consider—are we motivated by a pure heart that longs to point others to Christ, or is there a hint of tainted love? Ultimately, there’s only one name worth exalting.

Prayer 101 with Professor Jesus

Prayer was one of the most profound gifts that Jesus left to His followers, and He didn’t leave us without guidance. In fact, He taught us exactly how to pray in both Matthew and Luke’s Gospels, offering us a template that goes beyond mere words. It shows the heart and posture we should have in our communication with God. But is this prayer meant to be a formula we repeat, or does it highlight the essential attributes our own prayers should reflect?

When Jesus teaches us to pray with the words “Our Father,” He sets the foundation: prayer begins with relationship. God is not some distant deity, but our loving Father. This familial term invites us into a close, intimate space with the Creator of the universe. But it’s not all about us, is it? The phrase continues, “hallowed be Your name.” We are reminded to approach God with reverence, seeking His glory above all else. This balance of intimacy and reverence is crucial—prayer isn’t just casual conversation; it’s communion with the Almighty.

As we move through the Lord’s Prayer, we see a pattern emerge: acknowledge God’s holiness, align ourselves with His kingdom purposes, ask for daily sustenance, and seek forgiveness while extending it to others. This pattern shapes the priorities of prayer. Jesus is showing us that prayer isn’t simply about rattling off requests. It’s about inviting God’s kingdom into our hearts and lives, shaping our desires to match His.

What’s more, Jesus’ teaching on prayer doesn’t stop with the Lord’s Prayer. He goes on to compare God to a neighbor who is initially reluctant to help but finally gives in to persistent knocking (Luke 11:5-8). At first glance, this comparison can seem strange, even irreverent. Why liken God to a reluctant neighbor? Jesus is not saying that God is annoyed by our prayers, but rather highlighting the power of persistence. The point is clear: even a grumpy neighbor eventually responds to persistence. How much more will our loving Father hear us when we come to Him in prayer?

Persistence, reverence, alignment with God’s will, and trust in His provision—these are the marks of prayer that Jesus teaches us. It’s not about mindless repetition, nor is it about manipulating outcomes. Instead, it’s about being deeply rooted in relationship with God, seeking His will, and trusting Him to provide.

When we look at Jesus’ other prayers in the Gospels, such as His prayer in Gethsemane, the same elements are present. Even in His darkest hour, Jesus submits to the Father’s will, trusting in the goodness of God’s plan even when it meant His own suffering. This pattern of trust, surrender, and persistence permeates all of Jesus’ prayers, giving us a clear model for our own.

Ultimately, prayer isn’t about getting what we want. It’s about becoming the kind of people God can use to bring about His kingdom. We pray not to change God’s mind, but to align ourselves with His heart.

When Faith Isn’t Enough

There’s a popular verse that says faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains (Matthew 17:20). So what happens when someone prays in faith—believing with all their heart for a miracle—only to find that their mountain doesn’t move? What do we say to the person who truly believes for healing, only to lose a loved one to cancer, or to watch their own health fail? When the Bible says “the prayer of a righteous person avails much” (James 5:16), how do we reconcile that with unanswered prayer?

For many Christians, these are heart-wrenching moments of crisis. Faith feels like it’s failed, but the reality is far more complex. Prayer, faith, and God’s purposes are not transactional but relational. And just because a specific answer doesn’t come doesn’t mean faith is irrelevant—it just means God’s plan is greater.

Jesus Himself dealt with this tension. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He prayed for the cup of suffering to be taken from Him (Matthew 26:39), but He also prayed for the Father’s will to be done above all. This shows us that faith is not about manipulating outcomes to fit our desires, but about trusting God’s greater will, even when it contradicts our hopes.

The crux of the issue is understanding that faith isn’t a guarantee for our specific desires but trust in God’s perfect plan. A Molinist perspective sees God’s sovereignty and human free will in harmony. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows all possible outcomes. He sees not just our immediate suffering but the eternal good that He is working through it. When we pray in faith, we are invited to participate in God’s will—not to command it.

Jesus performed countless miracles during His earthly ministry, but even He did not heal everyone or remove every obstacle His followers faced. The Apostle Paul pleaded three times for God to remove a thorn in his flesh, and God’s answer was “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Faith isn’t about always getting what we ask for—it’s about receiving God’s grace in all situations, trusting that His will is good.

So what do we say to the person whose prayer seems unanswered? We remind them that God’s will is ultimately for our eternal good, and that His plans reach far beyond what we can see or understand. The promise of the Gospel is not a comfortable, pain-free life, but the hope of eternal glory (Romans 8:18). In the meantime, God often uses suffering to deepen our faith, grow our character, and reveal His strength in our weakness.

Does faith play a determinative role in prayer? Yes, but only in concert with God’s will. Even the smallest faith is effective, not because of the size of our faith, but because of the size of our God. The mountains in our lives may not always move the way we expect, but the God who made the mountains is always with us.

Faith, ultimately, is trust—trust that God is good, even when the outcome is not what we hoped for. And in the end, for the Christian, death itself is not defeat but the final victory. Physical healing may not always come, but ultimate healing—eternal life with God—awaits all who trust in Him. Faith isn’t just for this life; it’s for the life to come.