Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 11:1–13
Some of my favorite memories of my children when they were toddlers were bedtime prayer time. “Okay, bedtime, prayer time!” I’d yell to get them scampering upstairs and into the bedtime routine. Baths, silliness, stories, and more silliness would often ensue. But when we finally quieted down, after the stories were read and the stuffies were placed just right, we would fold our hands and say our prayers.
Teaching them the Our Father was one of my favorites. To be honest, it wasn’t because I felt particularly holy instructing my children how to say the Lord’s prayer; it was because watching them try to say it along with me was simply too adorable. They missed words, messed up words. “Hallowed” was most definitely “hah-woah-ed” for at least the first five of their years. They never knew quite how to say “trespasses,” but to hear my youngest say it with his sweet little lisp, oh, how my heart would melt every time.
It’s these memories of my children’s sweet and vulnerable attempts at prayer that I recall as I read the beautiful request made by the disciples in this week’s gospel, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1).
They didn’t ask how to perform miracles, confront Pharisees, or lead crowds. They asked to be taught how to pray. It’s as if they recognized that Jesus's prayer time was His time of communion with His Father, and they sought the same.
Jesus’ response is both simple and profound. He gives them words to say: the Our Father. For many of us, this prayer is familiar—perhaps so familiar that we speak it on autopilot. So, let’s pause and breathe each line slowly.
It is more than a prayer; it’s a reordering of our hearts.
These words do not add up to be a complicated theological formula—it’s simply a daughter speaking to her Father.
Jesus doesn’t stop with offering the words to say; He further teaches the posture with which we need to approach God: as daughters confident in our Father’s provision. His parable tells of a friend who shows up at midnight, asking for bread to feed a guest. The man inside is reluctant, but Jesus says he will ultimately give in to the request, if not for friendship then because of the friend's persistence.
How many of us have felt like we’re begging God in the dark of night? Pleading for healing, direction, breakthrough, or peace? It’s tempting to assume that a prayer going unanswered suggests God is uncaring or unbothered by our needs. But Jesus flips this narrative, and breaks through these lies, with assurance that God, our good Father, is never disinterested in the prayers of His beloved daughters. If even a tired neighbor can be moved to respond, how much more will our Father respond to us?
Jesus urges us. Ask. Seek. Knock. Not just once, but continually. Not because God is reluctant or because anything we do will affect His response, but because persistence in prayer changes us. It stretches our faith, deepens our trust, and draws us closer to His heart.
Jesus ends with this stunning reassurance, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?” (Luke 11:13).
The greatest gift that Christ offers to us is Himself, His promised Holy Spirit, who dwells within us. This same Spirit who, when “we do not know how to pray as we ought, intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words” (Romans 8:26).
How often have we earnestly prayed for the solution that we deem best—the pain to be removed, the situation easily fixed, the suffering to ease? Sometimes, in His mercy, God does just that. At other times, our prayers seem to go unanswered, or it appears the Lord falls eerily silent. And it is then, we must take Jesus at His word, for He has given us the Holy Spirit, who we are never without, who is at the ready to arm us for battle. He fortifies us for the fight, and makes us more like Christ in the waiting, in the mystery, in the hard.
The Father’s generosity is not always visible in worldly results or in the results we hope will come. Sometimes the miracle is not in a changed circumstance but in a transformed heart.
If, like me, you’ve ever felt like your prayer life is dry, repetitive, or falls on deaf ears, know you are not alone. Even the saints walked through spiritual deserts (famously, Mother Teresa of Calcutta). But the encouragement from this week’s gospel is clear: don’t give up. Persist. Persevere.
Prayer isn’t about perfect words—it’s about relationship, presence, and trust.
My friend, keep asking (even if you get the words wrong), keep seeking (even if you aren’t sure what to say), and keep knocking, because the door will always open. It may not happen the way we expect, but it always comes with a Father's love.
Praying alongside you,
Jeannine
Food for thought or journaling …
What keeps you from being persistent in prayer? Is there a specific prayer that you have stopped bringing to the Father? How might your view of prayer shift if you acknowledged that the Lord delights in giving you the Holy Spirit as a way to be with you always?
Heavenly Father, teach me to pray—not just with words, but with my life. Give me the courage to keep asking, seeking, and knocking, especially when I feel discouraged, weary, or afraid of the answer. Fill me with Your Holy Spirit so that I may know Your love more deeply, reflect it more fully, and have faith that You will always open the door. Amen.
P.S. Does your prayer time need a pick-me-up? Check out our Praying From the Heart: Guided Prayer Journal. With special prayers for different seasons of your life, space for your own personal devotions, and even a how to use the journal guide, it makes a beautiful companion for quiet time with the Lord. Take a tour of this beautiful prayer resource with our own Laura Phelps.
