He was a quiet man in the back pew, the kind that slips in late and leaves early. No title. No spotlight. But if you’d followed him home one Tuesday night, you would’ve found him on his knees, praying like the world was about to end.
And in a way, it was. His marriage had collapsed. His son hadn’t spoken to him in five years. His church was slowly dying, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt God’s presence. He didn’t pray because he had the words. He prayed because the silence was killing him.
That Tuesday night, he shut the door. Fell to his knees. And just said, “God, I don’t know how to do this anymore. But I can’t not talk to You.”
He came back the next night. And the next. And slowly, his face began to change. There was a stillness to him now. A strange steadiness. The pastor noticed. So did the cashier at the grocery store. Something in him had shifted.
They didn’t know what happened behind that closed door. But they saw the open reward.
Jesus promised it would be that way.
“But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.” — Matthew 6:6
The Church is Starving for Real Prayer
We’ve traded the war room for whiteboards.
We’ve replaced intercession with strategy meetings and substituted the Holy Spirit for lighting cues.
We are not a praying people. And because of that, we are not a powerful people.
Let’s call it what it is: the average church knows more about social media algorithms than it does about travailing prayer. We’re more fluent in fundraising than fasting. And most of us are terrified to pray out loud in a group.
That’s not spiritual maturity. That’s spiritual malnutrition.
Prayer is not a footnote to the Christian life—it’s the life. It is how we fight. It is how we breathe. It is how we move heaven.
And if you’ve never learned to intercede, you’re walking through war with your hands in your pockets.
The Lie That Killed Prayer
There’s a subtle poison in the heart of many Reformed churches. It goes like this:
“If God is sovereign, then prayer doesn’t change anything.”
That sounds theologically safe. But it’s spiritually deadly.
Because if prayer doesn’t change anything, why did Moses talk God down from destroying Israel? (Exodus 32)
Why did Elijah call down fire from heaven?
Why did Jesus pray all night before choosing His disciples?
And why does James 5:16 say, “The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective”?
If you believe your prayers don’t move heaven, you won’t pray like they matter. And if you don’t pray like they matter, they won’t.
God is sovereign. And yet He has chosen to work through the prayers of His people.
You can make God change His mind.
At least, that’s exactly how it will feel.
How to Learn to Pray (Yes, Learn)
The early church never asked Jesus to teach them how to perform miracles. They never asked, “Teach us to lead.” Or “Teach us to preach.”
They said, “Lord, teach us to pray.” (Luke 11:1)
Because they saw in Him—a fire, a rhythm, a connection with the Father they couldn’t manufacture. And they wanted it.
Here’s the truth: prayer isn’t a spiritual talent. It’s a craft. And crafts are learned.
You don’t start playing Beethoven the first day you sit at the piano. You plink and plunk and make mistakes.
That’s how prayer starts.
But every mistake is holy.
You’re not a failure just because you don’t feel anything. You’re not a failure because you get distracted. You’re learning. And there’s grace for learners.
So pray tired. Pray when you don’t feel like it. Pray awkward prayers with dry lips. Chop the wood. Light the fire.
And eventually, the warmth will come.
Start With What You Can See
You don’t need to be prophetic to pray with power. Just open your eyes.
Are the sermons lifeless? Pray for unction. Is the worship mechanical? Pray for holy hunger. Are your kids numb to the gospel? Pray until they burn.
Stop being polite in prayer. Start being bold.
The apostles didn’t say, “Lord, if it’s your will, give us courage.” They said, “Now, Lord… grant to your servants boldness” (Acts 4:29).
They asked straight. And the building shook.
Prayer isn’t a formality. It’s a battering ram.
The Secret Place Has Open Rewards
Jesus said, “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.”
So what does that open reward look like?
1. A Revived Soul
Psalm 73 describes a man drowning in bitterness—until he goes into the sanctuary.
“Then I understood…”
That’s what happens when you pray. Your soul reawakens. The fog lifts. Eternity comes back into view. The thirst for God returns.
John Berridge once said, “All decays begin in the secret place.”
If your faith feels like it’s withering, it probably is. But it can be revived. Prayer is the oxygen.
2. A Quieter Mind
Prayer doesn’t just change circumstances—it changes you.
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer… and the peace of God… will guard your hearts and minds” (Philippians 4:6–7).
Peace is not the absence of conflict. It’s the presence of God inside it.
George Müller said when he drifted from secret prayer, irritability crept in. The answer wasn’t discipline. It was worship. Communion. Stillness with God.
Prayer produces serenity. Not a passive calm—but a defiant stillness in the face of chaos.
3. A Reordered Heart
In Psalm 57, David starts with fear: “My soul is among lions.”
But by the end?
“Be exalted, O God, above the heavens.”
Something happened in the middle. Prayer happened.
Our worries don’t vanish in prayer. But they shrink when God gets bigger.
In prayer, our thoughts stratify. Self-preservation sinks. God’s glory rises.
You stop praying, “Fix me. Fix this.” And you start praying, “Be exalted.”
4. The Prayer of Faith
There are moments—rare, sacred moments—when faith ignites in the middle of prayer. Not presumption. Not hype. But holy certainty.
You pray, and something inside says, “It’s done.”
George Müller said every time he received that internal assurance, the answer came.
That kind of faith can’t be faked. It’s not a formula. It’s born in the secret place, under pressure, in intimacy with the Father.
You Can’t Microwave This
We want revival in a weekend. But God gives fire to those who build altars.
The altar is your prayer life. The secret place. The shut door. The knees on the floor.
And the reward is open. People will see. Not because you’re louder or more impressive—but because your life will carry the scent of another world.
God changes people who pray.
So start. Fumble. Fight. Learn.
Because the church doesn’t need more polished professionals.
It needs men and women who know how to kneel.
And stay.
And shake heaven.
Here are some recommendations to support your spiritual journey:
- E.M. Bounds on Prayer – A heartfelt exploration of the power of prayer.
- The Power of a Praying Life – A guide to living a prayer-filled life.
- Praying the Psalms – Learn how to incorporate the Psalms, including Psalm 51, into your prayer life.
Also, consider journaling your thoughts after praying.
Here’s a beautiful prayer journal I recommend for capturing your reflections and prayers.
Explore More
Would you like to deepen your connection with God? Check out my other resources on faith, healing, and spiritual growth:
- Struggling with Prayer? Here’s Why It’s Easier Than You Think
- The Power of Intercessory Prayer: Standing in the Gap for Others
- Finding Strength in Difficult Times
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If you need someone to pray for you email me at rich.w.bitterman@gmail.com