The War Against Prayer
Why Don’t We Pray? And How Do We Start Again?
We know prayer matters. We know we should pray. We even want to pray.
But somehow—we don’t.
We don’t pray as often as we should.
We don’t pray with our spouses.
We rarely pray with our kids.
We avoid praying out loud.
We shrink from silence.
We say, “I’ll pray for you,” but we don’t.
Why?
The Flesh Hates Prayer
Galatians 5:17 says it plainly:
“The flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit.”
Prayer is surrender.
It requires humility, dependence, focus.
And our flesh hates all of that.
The flesh loves control. Prayer gives it up.
The flesh craves distraction. Prayer demands stillness.
The flesh wants pride. Prayer requires humility.
This is why even five minutes of prayer feels like a battle. Because it is.
The Devil Fears Prayer
Prayer is warfare.
Ephesians 6 connects prayer to the armor of God:
“Praying at all times in the Spirit...”
Satan doesn’t fear your knowledge.
He doesn’t fear your ministry involvement.
He fears a praying Christian.
Because prayer calls on the power of heaven—and hell can’t compete with that.
So of course you feel tired, distracted, or ashamed when you go to pray.
That’s not just weakness. That’s opposition.
Comfort Numbs Urgency
Jesus said:
“Apart from Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)
But we live like we can do most things ourselves.
Prayerlessness often flows from comfort.
When things feel manageable, we don’t see the need.
But comfort is a cruel liar—it blinds us to our true weakness.
When trouble hits, we remember to pray.
But when life feels smooth, we forget Who’s holding it all together.
We Feel Unworthy
Sometimes we don’t pray because we feel unworthy to come.
Our hearts feel cold. We’ve failed again.
Shame tells us to hide from God.
But Scripture says:
“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace...” (Hebrews 4:16)
Confidence—not in ourselves, but in Christ.
You don’t need to clean yourself up before you come.
Come, and He will clean you.
He gives grace in your time of need—which is every moment.
We Think We Have to Be Eloquent
Prayer isn’t performance.
It’s not a speech. It’s not a show.
It’s a child talking to their Father.
Jesus warned against “heaping up empty phrases” (Matt. 6:7).
He values sincerity over sophistication.
Start small. Start simple.
“Lord, I need You.”
“God, help my wife.”
“Father, forgive me.”
That’s powerful prayer.
We Don’t Discipline Ourselves
Paul told Timothy:
“Train yourself for godliness.” (1 Tim. 4:7)
We don’t drift into prayer. We train for it.
Like building muscle, it takes time and consistency.
The Spirit is willing, but the flesh must be put in its place.
Stop waiting to “feel like it.”
Pray when you don’t want to. That’s when it matters most.
The Spirit Is in Us—But We Must Still Yield
Yes, the Holy Spirit indwells every believer.
He lives in us, comforts us, convicts us.
But Paul still says:
“Be filled with the Spirit.” (Eph. 5:18)
“Walk by the Spirit.” (Gal. 5:16)
“Keep in step with the Spirit.” (Gal. 5:25)
His presence is constant—but His power is revealed when we submit.
Prayer is how we yield. It’s how we fight.
It’s how we walk into battle together.
So yes—we pray:
“Holy Spirit, though You live in me, unite us now for the battle ahead. Make us one. Make us bold.”
How Do We Start Again?
Confess your prayerlessness. Don’t excuse it. Just own it.
Ask God to give you a praying heart. He loves to answer that.
Start small and honest. A few words from the heart are enough.
Pray with your spouse. Even if it’s awkward. Especially then.
Use Scripture. Let the Word shape your words.
Don’t wait to feel holy. Come because Jesus is holy.
A Simple Prayer to Begin Again
Father, forgive me for neglecting prayer.
I confess my pride, my fear, my distraction.
But here I am again—weak, but willing.
Holy Spirit, stir up what is cold in me.
Teach me to pray, to trust, to press in.
Help me lead in my home.
Help me pray with my spouse.
Help me push back the darkness with Your light.
Make me faithful in the small moments.
Let me be a man (or woman) who walks with You.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
Prayer is not a task to master.
It’s a relationship to pursue.
You won’t do it perfectly. But you can start again.
Right now. Today.
God isn’t waiting to scold you.
He’s waiting to meet with you.
