Coming onto the Race, I knew that I would have seasons of distance from the Lord. I knew that just because I was on the Race didn’t mean that this would be 11 straight months of the height of my spiritual closeness.
But I didn’t really expect to hit a point where I just didn’t want to pray. The gravity and weight of prayer aren’t lost on me – I’m incredibly humbled that we get to go straight before the Lord and talk to Him about anything and everything and He actually hears us.
I’ve learned, though, that being surrounded by 30 people in different places in their walks with the Lord who all seemingly have such a tangible, real connection with Him makes it hard not to compare. Why don’t I feel heard when I speak to Him? Why don’t I hear from Him the same way they do?
I’ve grown frustrated and I’ve been honest with God about that. I don’t want let reading or prayer become a mundane or shallowly routine part of my life, but I also feel like I let that excuse me from pressing into prayer when it’s difficult or distant. There are times when I make excuses to do almost anything rather than come to the Lord in prayer, and when I am talking to Him, I make about every excuse to leave that conversation.
Initially in this struggle, I felt really unworthy and inadequate. But God in His undeserved grace for me reminded me that I’m not alone- even the people closest to Jesus had to be told how to pray. I’m not alone in feeling like I can’t do it well, and God still desires to hear from me anyway, even when I don’t feel it.
And I know that things struggled through end up so much sweeter. When it’s easier for me to sleep than say what’s on my heart and feel like my words are hitting the ceiling, I need to press on. When closing my eyes and absently listening to worship music so I still seem spiritual feels more productive than lifting praises, I need to press on. Because even in things that are just dim reflections of eternity, there is reward for struggling through the race with endurance (Hebrews 12). Even when I don’t see the fruit of it, I know that it’s coming, and I know that regardless, He is worthy of my praise and my prayers.
I’m confident that my struggle with praying right now is an invitation for greater things to come, an invitation to remain obedient, and an invitation to grow in steadfastness despite feeling. Even when it feels futile, I know that hope and grace are woven into each moment of struggle (Romans 8:18-25).
Before the Race, I was given a key with the words “My Rock.” Thinking about what this could mean for me in my relationship with God, I read Psalm 18. In that Psalm, David calls God “my Rock,” and he ascribes value to Him by saying that He is worthy to be praised and called upon. He says that in God’s temple, He hears David’s cry. And that’s what I’m going to dwell on when it’s difficult for me to pray. Even when God feels distant, like He’s in a temple forever away from me, He still hears from me. And even when I don’t believe that, when I don’t feel heard, He is always *always* worthy to be praised, so I’ll call on Him anyway.
Thank you for walking this journey with me, friends, and for your unending grace and support.
So so much love!
