Unfortunately, we do not always feel God’s love. Sometimes, we feel that God is ignoring or neglecting us. When we are anxious about our material needs or disconsolate about our spiritual condition, we want to feel God’s reassuring hand and hear his soothing voice. But we don’t.

What should we do?

First, we should remember that feelings are not reliable guides to reality. In high school, I competed in a speech meet that I felt I had won. I spoke flawlessly. My only real competitor, however, jumbled the opening lines of her speech and started over. I was sure the trophy was mine, but the judges pronounced my competitor the winner. My feelings had led me astray, as feelings often do.

Second, in light of the unreliability of our emotions, we should let facts determine our feelings. God’s Word is the most reliable source of information we have about him, so what it says about him should determine how we feel about him, especially when we go through difficult circumstances. Consider the logic of Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:25–27: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” Jesus replied to his audience’s anxiety by noting two facts: (1) God cares for you more than birds, whose needs are always met; and (2) anxiety is unhelpful. Jesus let those facts shape his emotional life, and he encouraged his followers to do the same.

Third, and finally, we should walk by faith. St. John of the Cross wrote about “the dark night of the soul,” when we do not feel God’s presence or comfort at all. Interestingly, he considered such a night a gift from God. When life is going well and our emotions are all positive ones, it is easy to believe in God and do his will. But take those crutches away, and will any faith in him remain? Are we fair-weather friends to God? Do we love God for God, or selfishly?

Faith is not a leap in the dark. It is not a belief in the bizarre or absurd. It is the simple trust that God can be taken at his word. God loves you powerfully. That is a fact whether you feel it or not. Have faith, and one day—if not today—the facts and your feelings will meet, and you will see God “face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12).

As Creator and Provider, the Father dispenses his blessing with impartiality and expects us to do the same. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matt. 5:44–45). When it comes to the blessings of salvation and eternal life with him, God requires faith of us. With creature comforts and temporal goods, however, God is an equal-opportunity giver.

God’s creatorship makes a tremendous difference in our prayer life, as Jesus himself pointed out. We spend our lives working hard to get stuff, some of which is good and necessary, some not. But often, we develop acquisition anxiety. We worry about acquiring what we need as well as what we simply want. To paraphrase the words of Jesus in Matthew 6:25–34, we worry about our lives, what we will eat or drink; and we worry about our bodies, what we will wear. We shouldn’t. To see why, we should pay attention to three questions Jesus asks us.

First, “Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?” When we pray, God reminds us of our priorities and helps us see the difference between our needs and our wants.

Second, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” When we pray, God reminds us of our value in his eyes and assures us that he will meet our needs.

Third, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” When we pray, God administers a dose of reality medicine. Anxiety does not prolong life. Medically speaking, it shortens it. So do not worry, God will provide. Only the pagans run after all these things [food, drink, clothing, etc.]; our “heavenly Father knows that [we] need them.”

God is the Father of the entire world. He created us; he will also provide for us. So, let us pray to him!

That difference can be expressed as the difference between a natural-born and an adopted child: Jesus is God’s natural Son, but we are God’s adopted sons and daughters. As a natural Son, Jesus shares the Father’s DNA. He is divine by nature. We, on the other hand, do not share the Father’s DNA—we are not divine—but he invites us to enter a relationship with him, a relationship of his choosing.

Please do not stretch this analogy too far. It is only a metaphor. God does not actually have DNA. But by the same token, do not ignore the analogy’s power! It is rooted in the biblical language of salvation. Consider Ephesians 1:5, “In love, [God] predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will.”

If you think about it, the adoption analogy is a vivid picture of the gospel. Because of sin, we are orphans. Precisely because we are orphans, however, God has no parental duties toward us. We are someone else’s children, someone else’s problem. But chooses to adopt us anyway. It is his “pleasure and will” to do so. Like all adoptions, the cost to the would-be parent is exorbitant. We become God’s sons and daughters “through Jesus Christ,” that is, by means of his death and resurrection. But God is willing to pay the cost because he loves us.

How does our adoptive Father treat us? Are we merely wards of the state of heaven? Are we second-class members of God’s household? Are we like Cinderella—begrudged by the natural-born children of a heavenly Stepmother and made to do slavish tasks? No! No! No! Listen to Galatians 4:4–7: “Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.”

What difference does this change in status from slavery to sonship make for our prayer life? Listen to Romans 8:15–17a: “For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.” As God’s children and heirs, we can joyfully ask him for anything we need. He chose to love us in the first place. Will he not also care for us on an ongoing basis?

So, let us pray to God, the Father of all believers!

• as God, he is the Father of Jesus Christ;
• as Savior, he is the Father of all believers;
• and as Creator, he is the Father of the entire world.

Because our heavenly Father is God, Savior, and Creator, we can be confident that he loves us and gives us what we need. This is the difference God’s Fatherhood makes to our prayers.

When we examine the relationship between God and Jesus Christ, two things become apparent: (1) Jesus related to God uniquely, and (2) that uniqueness arose from the fact of his divinity. Even a cursory reading of the Gospels shows Jesus’ unique relationship with God. John 20:17 is a prime example: “I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” Jesus is not referring to two gods but to two ways of relating to God: his and ours.

The best explanation for this unique relationship is Jesus’ own divinity. Notice what he said in John 5:17: “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.” John tells us that this angered Jesus’ religious opponents because “he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God” (5:18).

We are wading in very deep theological waters when we affirm Jesus’ divinity. If there is only one God (Deut. 6:4), how can two persons—Father and Son—be God? (Or three persons, if we add the Holy Spirit?) And how can a man born in a stable be God? Over the centuries, the Christian tradition has developed the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation to answer these questions. The Trinity teaches that one God eternally exists as three persons—Father, Son, and Spirit. The Incarnation teaches that the Son has two complete natures—human and divine. I do not fully comprehend these doctrines—they are mysterious!—so I will not attempt to explain them to you here. Nevertheless, I believe both are based on the Bible and do not contain any obvious logical contradictions. They conform, in other words, to revelation and reason.

What I will point out is this: Both doctrines give us a powerful reason to pray. Paul writes in Romans 8:31–32: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” If the Father loves us so greatly that he gave the Son to save us, how can we not approach him confidently in prayer? Nothing is “able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:39).

So, let us pray to God, the Father of Jesus Christ!

Both points of view share a mistake. They assume that our God-talk is the result of projection rather than revelation. For them, the flow of imagery is upward: We conceive of God in our own image. According to the Bible, however, the flow is downward. He reveals himself through our language. Consequently, we should not see our heavenly Father through the distorting prism of earthly fatherhood—with its sinfulness and limitation. Instead, we should view earthly fatherhood in the light of heaven—with all its boundless perfection. As Paul wrote in Ephesians 3:15, it is from our heavenly Father that “every fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named” (ESV, marginal note). (The Greek word translated “family” is patria, literally, “fatherhood.”)

When we pray, then, we must remember the contrast between our heavenly Father and our earthly fathers. By the same token, however, we must remember that Jesus chose the image of fatherhood to describe God for a reason: We learn about what we do not know by means of what we do. When, therefore, our earthly fathers act as God created them to act, we see through their examples glimpses of how our heavenly Father treats us. Calling God our heavenly Father implies both contrast from and comparison to our earthly fathers, in other words.

A little parable in Matthew 7:7–11 makes this point clearly. Jesus asks, “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” Jesus admits that some earthly fathers are evil, in strong contrast to our morally perfect heavenly Father. This is a point of contrast. But even bad dads know how to give good gifts. So a great dad—our heavenly Father—must know how to give really excellent gifts. This is a point of comparison.

Precisely because our heavenly Father gives great gifts, then, Jesus tells us: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” Our good heavenly Father will see that we get what we need, “and quickly”; so let us “always pray and not give up” (Luke 18:1, 8)!

• his name be hallowed,
• his kingdom come,
• his will be done,
• our needs be met,
• our sins forgiven,
• and our souls protected.

Notice the order of these requests. First, we direct our attention to God and his concerns; then—and only then—we direct God’s attention to us and our concerns. When we prioritize God, we receive his blessing: “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things [food, drink, clothing, etc.] will be given to you as well” (Matt 6:33).

Notice also what Jesus assumes about God. The Lord’s Prayer tells us what to pray for, but it assumes certain things about God’s character and power. It assumes he is worthy of our requests and able to grant them.

These assumptions find expression in the name Jesus uses to address God: our heavenly Father. We are so accustomed to referring to God as Father that we forget what a radical idea and innovative practice it was in Jesus’ own day. New Testament scholars believe that Jesus invented the habit of calling God Father. He did so because he was conscious of his unique relationship with God. In John 20:17, for example, he distinguished his way of relating to God from ours: “I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” But his relationship with God is not a zero-sum game. We too can become God’s sons and daughters because Jesus is God’s Son par excellence: “In love,” Paul writes, “[God] predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will” (Eph. 1:5). When we call God Father, we say something important about his character: He loves us, and it is his pleasure and will to welcome us into his presence.

When we call God our heavenly Father, we say something equally important about his power. In the Bible, heaven is God’s dwelling place, the throne room from which he rules the universe. It connotes divine majesty and absolute power. Revelation 4:1–11 records John’s vision of heaven. It is a place of unimaginable beauty. All day long, angels and human beings worship God to the fullest extent of their abilities. They sing:

You are worthy, our Lord and God,

to receive glory and honor and power,

for you created all things,

and by your will they were created

and have their being.

In lights of this song, stop and reflect for a moment on the meaning of the words, our heavenly Father. The God who created and sustains the universe is pleased to be a Father to you and me. How can we not rest assured, then, that our prayers will be answered when we pray to such a God?

Who you pray to matters, it turns out, as much as—if not more than—what you pray for.

Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come,

your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our debts,

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from the evil one.

Notice the pattern of this prayer and the specific requests it makes.

The pattern is vertical and horizontal. First, we direct our attention to God and his concerns; then, we ask God to direct his attention to us and our concerns. In Matthew 22:37–39, Jesus says, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Prayer simply follows the pattern of these two great commandments.

The Lord’s Prayer makes six specific requests. First, we pray, “hallowed be your name.” The name of God is revelatory; it tells us about his person and works. According to Matthew 1:21, for example, Joseph and Mary named their baby Jesus “because he will save his people from their sins.” In Hebrew, Yeshua simply means, “the Lord saves.” So, the first thing we do in prayer is praise God for who he is and what he as done. By doing so, we focus on God’s powerful love for us.

Our second and third requests are “your kingdom come, your will be done.” The will of God is what he wants to accomplish in the world he created and the people he is saving. Through prayer, we prioritize God’s agenda for our lives.

Fourth, we pray, “Give us today our daily bread.” In first–century Palestine, most people lived at a subsistence level. They worked as day laborers, earning only enough money to buy what short–term provisions they needed. So, the prayer for daily bread was a prayer for actual bread. In our day, it includes other things. When we pray, we can ask God for whatever we need. Interestingly, there is a connection between doing God’s will and receiving our daily bread. As Jesus says in Matthew 6:33, “seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things [food, drink, and clothing, among others] will be given to you as well.”

Fifth, we pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” When we pray, we seek God’s grace and promise to send it along to others as well. Prayer is the nexus between our reconciliation with God and our reconciliation with other people.

Finally, we pray, “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.” Life is difficult. God uses these difficulties to make us better people. So, when we pray, we must learn to trust God in trying times.

When we pray, we ought to follow the pattern of the Lord’s Prayer and make its requests our own.

Why does Jesus tells us that God knows what we need even before we pray to him? For at least one very simple reason, I think. He wants to assure us that God always has our best interests in mind. Often, we let the anxieties of life pile up on us before we take them to God in prayer. We forget about God until the very moment we realize we cannot live without his help. But God has not forgotten us. “Look at the birds of the air,” Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:26; “they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” God already knows our needs, so when we pray, we can rest assured that he desires and has the power to meet them.

But if God already knows our needs, why do we need to ask him to meet them? Soren Kierkegaard hints at the answer when he writes, “Prayer does not change God, but it changes him who prays.” God could meet our needs without our prayers. By asking for our prayers, he meets a need deep with us that we may not even know we have—our need to depend on him.

Consider what John Calvin wrote in this regard: “Believers do not pray with the view of informing God about things unknown to him, or of exciting him to do his duty, or of urging him as though he were reluctant. On the contrary, they pray in order that they ma arouse themselves to seek him, that they may exercise their faith in meditating on his promises, that they may relieve themselves from anxiety by pouring them into his bosom; in a word, that they may declare that from him alone they hope and expect, both for themselves and for others, all good things.”

“By our praying,” Martin Luther concludes,” we are instructing ourselves.”

Because God knows all things, including our needs from hour to hour, we can be confident that he will take care of us. This confidence is evident in Paul’s assertion that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28). Not all things that happen to us are good, of course, but God can turn even bad things to good ends. The real question is whether we love God, and express our need for him.

Does Jesus prohibit using set phrases or repetition in prayer? Should we use patterned prayers? No and yes, respectively.

Let me give you two examples of patterned prayers. At meals: “For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful.” At a child’s bedtime: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

Does Jesus prohibit the use of patterned prayers such as these? No! Consider his instructions to the disciples in Matthew 6:9: “Pray then like this….” The Lord’s Prayer is a patterned prayer. Jesus not only taught his disciples patterned prayers, he used them himself. His prayer from the cross—“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matt. 27:46)—is a quotation of Psalm 22. When you read that psalm in its entirety, you see why Jesus prayed it as he died. It is the appropriate prayer for that agonizing moment. In fact, the Book of Psalms is simply a collection of patterned prayers. If such prayers are good enough to be included in the Bible and used by the Lord, they are good enough for our use too.

What Jesus really prohibits is pointless prayer, not patterned prayer. As John Stott explains, he prohibits “any and every prayer which is all words and no meaning, all lips and no mind or heart…a torrent of mechanical and mindless words.”

So, should we use patterned prayers? Yes, but only if they help us express our minds and hearts to God.

I find patterned prayers useful for two reasons: First, they help me say exactly what I want to say. In the morning, I pray, “This is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it” (cf. Psalm 118:24). When I sin, I pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner” (cf. Luke 18:13). And when I go to sleep, I pray, “Guide me while waking, and guard me while sleeping, that waking I may watch with Christ, and sleeping I may rest in peace.” Why invent new prayers when old ones express my feelings exactly?

Second, patterned prayers help me organize my thoughts. The Lord’s Prayer presents an outline of prayer. It begins with focused attention on God (“hallowed be your name, “your kingdom come, your will be done”) and then turns to our needs (“daily bread,” forgiveness, and deliverance from evil). When I pray, I use this outline, adding my specific requests under the appropriate heading. Under “daily bread,” for example, I ask God for whatever I or my family and friends need.

Patterned prayers are simply tools. Use them if they help you get the job done.

We should not interpret Jesus’ words too literally. True, “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed” (Luke 5:16). But he also prayed in front of others, such as the crowd of 5000 men, excluding women and children, whom he fed miraculously (Matt. 14:18). His disciples did likewise. According to Acts 1:14 and 2:1–13, it was because of what the crowds saw happening at a Jerusalem prayer meeting that they asked Peter, “What does this mean?” God used the evangelistic sermon Peter preached in response to their question as a tool to convert about 3000 of them that very day. All because of a public prayer meeting!

When Jesus tells us to pray in our rooms, in other words, he is more concerned about the spiritual location of our hearts than the geographical location of our bodies. He does not want us to be hypocrites, which derives from the Greek work for an actor. A hypocrite acts one way in public but lives another way in private. His onstage role is driven by a need for public approval. Because Jesus does not want our prayers to be corrupted by this hypocritical desire “to be seen by men,” however, he counsels us to pray alone, in secret, behind closed doors. Solitude enhances authenticity. Alone, we are able to speak our real concerns as our real selves to a real God who really cares.

Unfortunately, many people have trouble practicing solitude. We live in a highly individualistic culture, and they feel isolated and alone. When Jesus talks about solitude, they feel creeping pangs of despair. “I am already lonely,” they say to themselves, “must I continue to be lonely to experience God?” No! Solitude and loneliness are not the same thing. Solitude is healthy individualism; loneliness is unhealthy individualism. In the Christian life, there must be balance between solitude and sociality. Without that balance, we can neither be authentic selves nor experience healthy relationships. So, let us heed Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s warning: “Let him who cannot be alone beware of community…. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone….”

Let us make time and space in our lives to approach God in solitude. By the same token, “let us not give up meeting together…but let us encourage one another” (Heb. 10:25). As long as our desire is to be rewarded by God rather than seen by men, we can draw near to him alone and together.