Everyday Prayers

A Prayer about Gospel Parenting 

Unless the Lord builds the house, Those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.
(Ps. 127:1–3)

Heavenly Father, it’s a joy to address you today as the architect and builder of your own house— including the household of faith and my children’s place in your family. 

As I look back over the years of my pragmatic parenting, I’m saddened, but I am also gladdened, for you’ve always been faithful to your covenant love, even when I was overbearing and under believing. The move from parenting by grit to parenting by grace has been a fitful but fruitful journey.

Take me deeper; take me further. You’ve rescued me from parental “laboring in vain”— assuming a burden you never intended parents to bear. Father, only you can reveal the glory and grace of Jesus to our children. Only you can give anyone a new heart. You’ve called us to parent as an act of worship— to parent “as unto you,” not as a way of saving face, making a name for ourselves, or proving our worthiness of your love. 

Oh, the arrogant pride of thinking that by my “good parenting” I can take credit for what you alone have graciously done in the lives of my children. Oh, the arrogant unbelief of assuming that by my “bad parenting” I’ve forever limited what you will be able to accomplish in the future. Oh, the undue pressure our children must feel when we parent more out of our fear and pride than by your love and grace. 

Since our children and grandchildren are your inheritance, Father, teach us— teach me— how to care for them as humble stewards, not as anxious owners. More than anything else, show us how to parent and grandparent in a way that best reveals the unsearchable riches of Jesus in the gospel. Give us quick repentance and observable kindnesses. Convict me quickly and surely when I do not relate to your covenant children “in line with the truth of the gospel” (Gal. 2:14 NIV). I pray in Jesus’ faithful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Engaging in Gospel Warfare  

For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members an- other law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom. 7:22–25)  

Jesus, though I’m conflict avoidant by nature and choice, this is one conflict about which I am actually excited. The very fact that there’s a war going on inside of me is a good thing, especially since the combatants are the gospel and my sinful nature. For this means that the outcome of this war has already been decided. The gospel will prevail! Yet I’m not naïve about the “mop up” operation. Growing in grace is great, but it sure gets messy and intense.

The only reason I now delight in God’s law, in my heart of hearts, is because the demands of the law drove me to you, Jesus. I needed a substitute and a Savior, not a model and a coach. You perfectly met all the requirements of God’s law for me, and you’ve exhausted his judgment against all my law breaking. This is the good news, indeed. 

The messy part of knowing you comes from your commitment to make me like yourself. You’re more committed to getting “heaven” in me than getting me into heaven. Why couldn’t you have just glorified me after justifying me? It would’ve been so much easier. Why couldn’t we have just skipped over the whole sanctification process? 

Silly questions, indeed. I’m just very thankful to know that one day I will be as loving and as lovely as you, for the Father will complete his work in each of his children, including me. Until that day, here’s my prayer . . . 

Jesus, allow me to grieve the sinfulness of sin— the sinfulness of my sins. Now that I’m no longer guilty or condemned, let me fearlessly see my sins, ruthlessly hate my sins, and relentlessly repent of my sins. Increase my love for holiness and decrease my self contempt. Only the gospel can bring me such freedom. Only by seeing more of you, Jesus, will I delight in this journey.

Jesus, you’re the end of all my wretchedness. You’re the one who’s rescuing me from this “body of death”— all the effects and residue of the fall, all the trappings of my grave clothes, every semblance of every way I’m not like you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I pray in your most powerful and loving name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Not Fretting Evil  

Be still before the Lord
and wait patiently for him;
do not fret when people succeed in their ways,
when they carry out their wicked schemes.
Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
do not fret— it leads only to evil.
For those who are evil will be destroyed,
but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land. (Ps. 37:7–9 NIV)

Faithful Father, you send your Word with Swiss timing and uncanny precision. Whenever I’m vexed or fretful, you anticipate it. Whenever I’m confused or anxious, you’ve already spoken wisdom about the matter in multiple places in the Scriptures. Whenever I feel vulnerable or angry, you come to me in the Bible and bring me back to gospel sanity, time and time again. How I praise you for the counsel and consolation of your Word. 

Today, Father, I’m a bit worked up over the apparent success of those who bring harm to others and even get rewarded for their madness. Whether it’s in the global reach of terrorism, the on going shenanigans of Wall Street, the seizing of aid marked for poor countries, or even the self indulgent world of sports and athletics, violations of beauty and goodness are everywhere. How long, O Lord, before you send Jesus back to put all things right? 

Your answer to me today in this Scripture is just what I need. You won’t give me a date, but as always, you do give me yourself. I hear you loud and clear, Father. You’re speaking stillness and fretless waiting to my heart. No good comes from my obsessing about evil and evil making. Nothing profitable results from my spending extra time fertilizing my anger and fueling my disgust. 

A day is coming when the knowledge of your glory will cover the entire earth as the waters cover the sea. The whole world, not just one small and important bit of real estate in the Middle East, is holy land. The New Jerusalem is coming down from heaven, not a day early and not a day late. 

Until that day, I will seek to seek first the kingdom of God and the righteousness of King Jesus. How I praise you that the very righteousness with which you have already robed me is the very righteousness with which you are going to fill the earth. You’ve already made me both your son and an heir of the new heaven and new earth! Hallelujah, what a Savior! Hallelujah, what a salvation! I pray in Jesus’ powerful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Preaching the Gospel to Yourself  

I am eager to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, “The righteous shall live by faith.” (Rom. 1:15–17)  

Dear Jesus, even as Paul was eager to preach the gospel to believers in Rome, so I’m eager to preach it to my own heart today. There was a time when I thought the gospel was only for nonbelievers—simply the doorway for beginning a relationship with you. I now realize the gospel is just as much for believers as it is for non believers, because from beginning to end, our salvation is entirely dependent upon the grace, truth, and power of the gospel. 

Salvation is not just about going to heaven when we die. It’s about becoming like you, Jesus— being transformed into your likeness. Only the resources of the gospel are sufficient for such a task, for we’re not just separated from God by a great distance, we are thoroughly broken and corrupted by sin. We need a big gospel for our great need. Indeed, there’s nothing more than the gospel, there is just more of the gospel. 

So I praise you today, Jesus, that you’ve already accomplished everything necessary to completely save us. You came into the world as God’s promised Messiah. You lived a life of perfect obedience on our behalf—as our substitute, fulfilling all the demands of God’s law for us. You died upon the cross for us— taking the judgment we deserve, completely exhausting God’s righteous anger against our sin. Hallelujah! 

Through faith in you and this good news, all of my sins have been forgiven and I’ve been given the gift of your perfect righteousness. God has already declared me righteous in his sight. He cannot love me more than he does today, and he’ll never love me less. In fact, because of your work for me, Jesus, God now loves me just as much as he loves you, for he’s hidden my life in yours. Amazing! 

He’s adopted me as his child and placed his Spirit in my heart. The Holy Spirit constantly reminds me I’m God’s beloved child, because I’m so prone to forget. He’s also present in my life to make me like you, Jesus, for I can no more change myself than I could’ve ever begun a relationship with God on my own. Keep pressing this gospel into my heart, I pray in your priceless and peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Jesus’ Shameless Love for Us  

Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. He says, “I will declare your name to my brothers and sisters; in the assembly I will sing your praises.” And again, “I will put my trust in him.” And again he says, “Here am I, and the children God has given me.” (Heb. 2:11–13 NIV)  

Dear Jesus, I’ve thought, said, and done a lot of things in my life of which I am truly ashamed. I’ve been painfully shamed and I’ve shamed people I dearly love. Shame is a pillaging thief, one that robs us of dignity, freedom, and joy. 

So when I hear you tell me that you’re not ashamed of me—that you’re not ashamed to call me your brother— it humbles and gladdens me like nothing else. 

You’re the only answer for the paralyzing power of shame, Lord Jesus. How I praise you for doing everything necessary to deal with the ways I’ve been both an agent and a victim of sin— sin that has led to multiple layers of shame. You’re the only one who can make me holy, the only one who can “set me apart” for the redeeming and restoring purposes of the one I now know as Abba, Father. 

In fact, I only dare cry out “Abba, Father” because you first cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1). You took the full guilt and the real shame of my sin on the cross. I really do believe this. I really want to experience it more fully. 

And now you sing to me of the Father’s love. You declare his praises to my heart every time I hear the gospel, every time I gather with my brothers and sisters to worship the Triune God, every time I take the bread and cup of Holy Communion, every time I read the Scriptures, every time I listen to your voice in creation pro claiming the majesty and mercy of God. 

Jesus, you’re not ashamed of me. This is the theology I defend; make it the doxology in which I delight. I pray in your most compassionate name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Seeing with Gospel Eyes  

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Sam. 16:7 NIV)  

Loving Father, I’ve worn prescription glasses since high school, moving from regular to progressive focus lenses over the course of years. Recently I’ve had laser surgery to help me see more precisely than ever. Yet there’s an ophthalmological corrective that can only take place as the gospel does its work on the eyes of my heart.

Even if I could see with 20/15 or 20/10 vision, if I’m only focusing on the “out- ward appearance” of people and things, I’m still not seeing as you intend. My plea? Open the eyes of my heart, Lord, so that I may see Jesus— and as I begin seeing Jesus more clearly, help me see everything else from his perspective.

Help me to see people with gospel eyes. Father, when I’m only looking at people with the aberrations of a fallen heart, show me what true beauty consists of. When I only see the things in people that irritate or inconvenience me, help me to see their dignity, their brokenness, and your image in them. When I only see people in terms of how they might harm or help me, expand my vision beyond my story to your larger story of redemption and restoration. Help me to see what you see in my spouse . . . in my children . . . in my friends . . . even in total strangers.

Help me to see creation with gospel eyes. Father, don’t let me look at the ocean, mountains, stars, sunrises and sunsets, flora and fauna, or even weather patterns just in terms of me and my plans. As you open and heal the eyes of my heart, enable me to live more as a worshipful steward of your creation and less as a selfish consumer of your creation. 

Help me to see pain and suffering with gospel eyes. Father, sometimes looking at all the crucibles, crises, and cruel stories of life makes me want to run, hide, fix, or deny. Help me to see with the eyes of Jesus when overwhelming need is staring me down. I pray in Jesus’ healing name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Gospel Resolve  

But Daniel resolved not to defile himself with the royal food and wine. (Dan. 1:8 NIV)  

Dear Father, the older I get, the more I’m convicted and encouraged by the life of Daniel and his exiled friends. May the gospel bring me greater freedom to live and love as this man did— with passion, conviction, wisdom, and hope. 

I used to read the book of Daniel as a survival manual for life in a scary, godless world. But that’s not the way you wrote the book. I now realize that Daniel is a testimony to your commitment to redeem your people from all the nations, including Babylon. Indeed, you intend to bring the transforming power of the gospel to bear wherever you send your people, including Babylon. I wish I’d understood this sooner. But better now than never!

With a better understanding of the gospel, here’s my prayer: Father, help me and my friends make the kinds of commitments Daniel made so we can live as instruments of your transforming presence where you’ve placed us.

Keep us wise to the particular “defilements” that wage war against our hearts and your story— not just the things in “Babylon” but the things in the dark continent of our hearts. If only I had to be concerned about just the things outside of me—but the things around me only tend to ignite the lust and greed within me.

I’m now convinced that the best way I can “resolve not to defile myself” of the wrong kingdom is by feasting regularly upon the royal food and wine King Jesus gives us.

Jesus, I praise you for the bread and the cup of the new covenant. As the Bread of Heaven, feed us till we want no more. As the giver of the water of life, quench our thirst that we might live and love as Daniel did— with passion, conviction, wisdom, and hope. I pray in your loving and holy name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Voicing Our Groans and Hope  

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. (Rom. 8:22–24)  

Loving Father, I’m feeling many different things as this day begins. Images of horror and heartache in third and fourth world countries simply will not go away—and they shouldn’t go away. People being loaded into trucks for mass grave burials . . . infants desperate for formula . . . tens of thousands of newly orphaned children. . . . As much as I would like to tune out, numb out, and check out, the gospel compels me to keep my heart present in the overwhelming distress and dimensions of this crisis.

Paul’s words about the intense painful groaning of childbirth seem appropriate to the situation. And there’s no epidural, there’s no anesthesia, there’s nothing to diminish the raw pain of what’s going on in many nations of the world’s poor, and even in our own nation. 

We have only our hope that you, our God, do not lie. In the cries of a whole nation of people, in the moaning of its fragile land, you bid us hear the faint but sure cry of hope. Though to some degree it mocks my sensibilities, I abandon myself to your promise that one day the whole earth will be covered with the knowledge of the glory of God; one day the barren places will have trees again and those trees will clap their hands; one day desolate hills will seem like dancing mountains. 

One day you will wipe away every tear from the eyes of your people, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things will have passed away for your world in waiting (Rev. 21:4). How long, O Lord? How long until that increasingly longed-for day? Oh, that it could be today . . . 

But because of this hope, we will not tune out, numb out, or check out. We will seek to show up. Lead us, King Jesus. Lead us into your work of redemption and restoration. What will it mean to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with you in the broken places of your world? 

We praise you that you do not despise our confusion, our despair, or even our railings against heaven and the mysteries of hard providence, but you give us all the gospel sanity we will need to follow you into the heart wrenching brokenness and chaos. I pray in Jesus’ tender and trustworthy name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about a Benediction and Challenge  

Grace to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with an undying love.
(Eph. 6:24 NIV)  

Dear Jesus, I need this benediction like I need oxygen and water, for I cannot exist apart from your love. The call to love you with an “undying love” is not a burden or performance. It’s simply the privilege we share living in response to the dying love and everlasting love with which you love us so lavishly. There’s no greater demonstration of love in the history of love and affection than your death for us upon the cross. Throughout eternity, we’ll feel as though we’re just beginning the survey of the wonders of your cross.

You didn’t lay down your life for deserving friends but for rebels, fools, and idolaters— like me. You love us, you’ve freed us from our sins by your blood, and you’ve made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God and Father forever (Rev. 1:5–6). Now, Jesus, please make the familiar sound of these words come alive with holy passion and fresh delight. 

Even as we first needed grace to respond to your love (Eph. 2:8–10), so we need grace to stay alive to your love and to love you as you deserve to be loved. Your love for us is the one constant in our lives. Everything else changes. Everything else is subject to whim and fancy. Our brothers and sisters in heaven are more happy than we are, but they are not more loved. But our love for you ebbs and flows. 

Jesus, give us grace to love you with an undying love. May the cooling of our affections for you bother us more than the fragile economy, our broken relationships, political upheaval in the world, concerns about our health, getting older, or anything else. Jesus, don’t let us get used to status quo, middle class, business as usual love for you. 

If by the Holy Spirit we hear you saying to us this morning, “I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first” (Rev. 2:4), may it seem like a huge kiss from heaven, for it means you are pursuing us, you love us, your desire is for us, your banner over us is love. That you are jealous for our love is the greatest compliment you could possibly pay us. Indeed, Jesus, restore to us the joy of being loved by you in the gospel. Restore us to loving you as your much-beloved bride. We pray in your glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Days When You Don’t Feel Like Praying  

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Rom. 8:26–28 NIV)  

Dear Father, this is one of those days when I could create a long prayer list and methodically go through it, but I’m not sure I would really be praying. I could go through the motions, but to be quite honest, it would be more ritual than reality— more about me than the people and situations I’d bring before you. I’m feeling a bit distracted this morning, scattered and not very focused. 

It’s one of those days I’m glad the gospel is much more about your grasp of me than my grip on you. I’m grateful your delight in me is not contingent upon my delight in you. I’m very thankful for the prayer ministry of the Holy Spirit. 

Gracious Father, I have no problem or reluctance in acknowledging my weakness this morning. In fact, it’s freeing to know your Spirit doesn’t abandon us when we’re weak but helps us in our weakness, faithfully praying in us with “word- less groans” (Rom. 8:26 NIV). Though I don’t understand everything that means, I do get that you search our hearts and you know the mind of the Spirit, and that brings me great comfort today. 

No one knows our hearts better than you, Father. And you search our hearts to save us, not to shame us; to deliver us, not to demean us; to change us, not to chide us. You know my dignity and my depravity, my fears and my longings, my struggles with sin and my standing in Christ. No one but you knows how little or how much of the gospel I actually get. 

And at this very moment your Spirit is praying inside of me, perfectly tuned in to my needs and in total harmony with your will. I cannot measure the peace that brings. I surrender right now, Father. I will gladly groan to your glory. I know you are at work for my good in all things, including this season. You have called me to life in Christ, and you will complete your purpose in me, in each of your children, and in the entire cosmos. I do love you; I would love you more. I pray with thankfulness, in Jesus’ merciful and faithful name.

Amen.