But Did I Pray Hard Enough?

Sometimes, when I hear about how God answers our prayer and how all we need to do is bring our concerns to him and he will fix everything, I think, oh really? Is it that simple?

This morning, I read this in a devotional:

“And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” Luke 11:9-13

The passage was followed by a great exhortation on prayer and the power of God to answer and move on our behalf. The emphasis was on our persistence.

And if I’m honest, there are many times I read things like this and just feel defeated. 

Because I can think of a pretty terrifying time in my life that this didn’t feel too true.

Considering I wasn’t just seeking or asking… And I definitely was doing more than knocking. 

I was pounding on the door of heaven, pleading for my son’s life. And it sure felt like the house was vacant, the big, heavy door locked up and unyielding.

So when I hear this, I relive those horrific hours in the hospital and sometimes I can’t help but think, I guess I didn’t pray hard enough. 

At that first hospital, still having conversations with Mason, I think, I should have realized then how serious it was. I should have been praying with more persistence. And then in the ambulance, I guess I shouldn’t have been updating family and friends via text and instead storming the gates of heaven in prayer. And at the second hospital when they had me wait in the hallway to do all those procedures I was sure would save him, or when they let me back in the ICU to find him surrounded by nurses and doctors and machines, I guess I should have picked different verses to plead to God. Or maybe my prayers should have been louder. 

During that last urgent transfer or at the final hospital when his heart couldn’t beat on its own, was I not asking, seeking, or knocking in the right way? Did I not pray hard enough? Because my son’s lifeless body in that hospital bed sure felt worse than a serpent or a scorpion to me. So where were my good gifts?

In my flesh, I sometimes respond to these verses with cynicism. 

Desperation gives an interesting filter to our circumstances.

About a year before Mason died, I read a biography on Deitrich Bonhoeffer. And it radically transformed my prayer life. I used to pray with a focus on safety and security and basically an everything-working-out type perspective. But as I read about this man who stood up for truth and for what is right, I realized how limited and shallow my perspective was.

When I think of living in Nazi Germany, I plan out how I would escape. How I would get my kids to safety. Avoid Hitler’s evil at all costs. How could I shield them? Keep us out of harm’s way? 

Not Bonhoeffer. He had a ticket out of Germany. But he wasn’t seeking his own safety. His goal wasn’t to avoid danger, it was to fight evil. He saw a bigger picture and knew what mattered for the Kingdom. And ultimately, it cost him his life. Something he saw as temporal and insignificant in light of the story God was writing for eternity.

God spoke to me in powerful ways through Bonhoeffer’s story. I began to embrace his sovereignty and accept that he wanted to do bigger things than just keep us happy and safe and prevent us from ever experiencing the scorpion’s sting. Because often he is most glorified when his plans and his healing and his redemption radiate much deeper than the poison.

The sting is temporal. But what he does through the sting ripples on in an everlasting way. 

So, years ago, I started praying with an eternal perspective for my kids. With a submission to God’s sovereignty, even if it comes with serpents and pain. 

Sometimes God’s good gifts don’t come in the wrapping we’d choose. But it doesn’t make them any less perfect. 

I know God’s word to be true. And I know his promises of prayer to be true. And that the instruction to ask, seek, and knock is not an equation for our perfect scenario, but rather a process of submission to his sovereignty. Yes, we are called to persist in prayer. And to progress in our perseverance. But this is to increase our trust in God and transform our own heart. It’s not about praying harder, or praying better. It’s about praying in faith.

And often our prayers prayed in faithful submission don’t prevent the sting of the scorpion or the venomous bite of the snake, but they open the door for our hearts to surrender to a bigger and better gift. They lead us to accept God’s sovereignty and with it the peace to wait and trust, knowing that the answers may not come on this earth, but will be waiting for us when we step foot into eternity.

So while I wish my persistence in prayer when death came for my son would have prevented that horrific sting, I can still rest in knowing that the asking and seeking and knocking on his behalf and my family’s behalf was not in vain. 

Because the story of hope and healing and redemption is still being written. And I know with confidence the ending is going to be an extraordinary one.