“I can’t believe I’m asking you to pray for this,” I told my friend sheepishly. “It’s the dumbest prayer request. I mean, God has said no for such a long time, why am I still pushing for a yes?” I laughed into the phone, but an errant tear slipped down my cheek. “I want you to pray with me, but I realize how ridiculous it sounds to keep praying for something like this. It’s stupid. But—I know God can do anything.” My voice wobbled a little. “Would you pray?”
Beth is one of my closest friends, but I still felt embarrassed when I asked her to pray with me on a tender subject. I kept hedging my request, determined to make her understand that I realize what I am asking would take an absolute miracle. I know God’s ways are mysterious. I can’t pretend to understand why he does what he does, and when, and how. The rub lies in trusting him anyway. I wanted Beth to pray, but I didn’t want her to think I was delusional about what I was asking for.
Her response was not what I expected.
When people ask me to pray for them, I respond with assurance that I will. I like specificity. I consider it a great privilege to pray for people who trust me with their requests, and I’m happy to add you to my list and intercede for you before the Lord. I feel very loved when others do this for me. Beth did indeed assure me that she would pray very specifically for me, and I know she will. She asked for more details so that she could. But before she did that, she took me down an unusual path. After listening to my awkward plea for prayer, she started talking about Hezekiah.
Hezekiah?
At first, I wondered what in the world Hezekiah had to do with my prayer request. But I listened as Beth recounted the passages from 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles that she had read that very morning, and I could soon see where she was going. She recounted the Old Testament story of Judah’s king from an area of Scripture many of us struggle to get through. She walked me through his life, describing the way he prayed in the midst of a grave illness. It was so grave, in fact, that Hezekiah had been told by the Lord’s prophet that he must prepare for death for he would surely die. What did Hezekiah do when his fate, for all intents and purposes, was sealed? “Then Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, saying, ‘Now, O Lord, please remember how I have walked before you in faithfulness and with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sight.’ And Hezekiah wept bitterly” (2 Kings 20: 2-3). The Lord heard Hezekiah’s prayer, honored his request, and gave him fifteen more years of life.
I knew the story, but Beth had dug into it all week, studying and meditating on it. “It seems crazy to pray for life when God himself has said you will die. But he prayed anyway. There’s no shame in praying for the impossible,” she told me. “We are not promised an answer like Hezekiah’s, but we are seeking to be faithful and wholehearted in following Jesus. We can pray for the impossible, and trust God to do what is good and best.”
None of this was new information for me, but it was timely information. It was a reminder from God’s own words that we can pray with hope and faith as we continue to follow him no matter what. When all I could do was stammer out an embarrassed plea for prayer, my friend spoke wisdom to me from Scripture. This isn’t really about whether or not the Lord gives me my version of “fifteen more years” in regard to my prayer request. This is about your spiritual disciplines. It’s about Beth’s spiritual disciplines and the direct effect they had on my life. If Beth had not faithfully opened her Bible each day that week and mined the depths of 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles, she would not have spoken to me with biblical wisdom the way she did.
The truth is that I need Beth to read her Bible as much as I need to read mine. In the Christian life, we do not walk alone. We are like bricks built upon one another to form a home where we are growing up together in the faith. Peter said, “you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 2:5). I need my own spiritual disciplines of study, reading, and prayer for my personal growth, knowledge, and affection for Christ. I want the believers in my life to do the same for their own edification and growth. But I also need the believers in my life to pursue their spiritual disciplines because I am desperate for them to do so. I want the spiritual food God has been feeding you. I don’t need worldly or even pseudo-Christian encouragement when I’m discouraged or doubting or worried. I need what is true and biblical and dependable. Maybe it’s just me, but “God’s got this!” doesn’t have the same effect on my heart as “Hezekiah prayed and turned his face to the wall.” The first is a plucky, optimistic but neutral response that flies from the mouth with good intention but little thought to the weightiness of a person’s struggle. The latter laments the person’s struggle, points them to Scripture, and says, “This is hard and God hears your prayers.”
Don’t get me wrong, God does indeed have this. He has written my story and yours; he ordained them before we ever drew a breath (see Psalm 139:16). I get the sentiment behind the statement. But sometimes I think we unintentionally baptize cultural well-wishing and turn “It’ll all work out” (which we cannot guarantee will happen in the way someone desires) into “God’s got this” (which communicates the same thing: God will make it work out in the way you desire, which we also cannot guarantee and may not be for our good and his glory). My flesh may have wanted Beth to dig up some promise that God absolutely will work in my favor, but my heart needed her to tell me that there is no shame in praying big prayers and that I can trust a sovereign God with my big requests. He may choose to answer my request differently, but he is the same God of 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles, and he doesn’t shame his children for turning to him in desperation.
Every Sunday, I listen to one of my pastors stand in the pulpit and proclaim the truth of Scripture. I listen with my spiritual family, learn with them, pray with and for them. On Tuesdays, a group of women sit around my dining room table and discuss our weekly passage from God’s Word. We’ve studied and prayed, and then we share what we’ve learned. I glean so much from the hours each woman has put into her study. Their spiritual disciplines bolster my own. The encouragements I receive from brothers and sisters in Christ who are loving Jesus by knowing him in his Word are ingrained upon my heart. I treasure the wisdom they share for it comes from the very heart of God as revealed in Scripture.
I told Beth the other day how thankful I was for her faithful Bible reading. “You always point me to Scripture, and it’s there that I find the encouragement I am really looking for. I need you to read your Bible, Beth.” I pray that as I study and pray early in the mornings in my living room with only the company of the Holy Spirit, the Lord will use my spiritual disciplines not just for me but for you as well. This is how we stand firm as a spiritual home that endures every test of life and time. Brick upon brick.
Yes, we read our Bibles for ourselves. But I need you to read your Bible for me, and I’ll read mine for you.
I need encouragement that is true and biblical and dependable. Maybe it’s just me, but “God’s got this!” doesn’t have the same effect on my heart as “Hezekiah prayed and turned his face to the wall.” Share on X
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.