What do you say to the Maker of the Universe when you’re exhausted beyond words, burdened to your bones by your own sins, heavy-laden with sickness or sorrow, or simply feeling far away? How do you draw near to God in prayer when praying is hard?
It’s too common that we think we must rely on our own finite, faulty tongues to produce prayers to the Almighty. Why rely on ourselves when we’ve been given the word and Spirit? As Paul encourages us in Romans 8:26–27: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.”
And God gives us prayers to pray all throughout Scripture. Jesus teaches us the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9–13) and Paul invites believers to bring everything before God in Philippians 4:6. In Hannah and Mary, Solomon and Samson, Stephen and Simeon, and the father who cries out, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Matt. 9:24), we find examples of prayers for the saints. And, of course, some of the best models for prayer are found in the Psalms—prayers for repentance, grief, hope, joy. When you cannot find the words to bring your heart before the Lord, let Scripture do it for you.
Psalm 88: A Prayer in Darkness
Psalm 88 begins with a trusting recognition of who God is—a God who hears us: “O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out day and night before you. Let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry!” (vs. 1–2). But unlike many other psalms in this genre, there is no reassurance or hope that anything will change when the psalm concludes. From beginning to end, the message is one of despair. It ends on the somber note that all the psalmist’s “companions have become darkness” (vs. 18).
But what a blessing that this is included in God’s word to his people, that for those moments when we feel we have no hope and our hearts and minds are clouded over, God has given us words by which we may come to him. He doesn’t ask for us to find a silver lining or to end on a positive note. He simply invites us to bring our despair to him.
Job 42:2–6: A Prayer for Confession and Repentance
The beauty of Job’s prayer is that it doesn’t come with the assurance that all his questions will be answered. He’s been put through unimaginable suffering and God never explains why. But it doesn’t absolve Job of his sin or his lack of faith. Sometimes, our repentance comes in the face of obvious sin and consequences, the story laid out in clear detail—much like David’s confession in Psalm 51 after his assault of Bathsheba and murder of her husband. But sometimes, we need to repent of sinfulness in circumstances that are hard for us to comprehend, when we respond in an ungodly way in times of immense grief or loss, physical malady, or toward others who have sinned against us.
Here, when it can be much harder to find those words, Job has laid them out for us:
I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ‘Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you make it known to me.’ I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes. (Job 42:2–6)
The confession and repentance follows God’s challenge of Job’s own power, which is very little compared to that which belongs to the Maker of the Universe. God is so big and so great that we have no room to question his decisions. But God also demonstrates that he is so good, and therefore, we should have no need to question him—only to trust and obey.
Habakkuk 3:17–19: A Prayer of Trust When All Seems Lost
Sometimes, it really is hard to be the messenger. The oracles contained in the short book of Habakkuk depict a conversation between Habakkuk and God, in which God tells the prophet of his plans to have Israel invaded by her enemies after the nation broke his covenant. It’s bleak, and Habakkuk clearly doesn’t like being the bearer of bad news.
But, unlike Jonah who runs away from a message he doesn’t want to share, Habakkuk demonstrates a profound trust in God, his savior. Without fully knowing or understanding how the story of redemption will unfold, he submits himself to this part of the story: when God’s people are exiled from the Promised Land.
Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places. (Hab. 3:17–19)
As believers on this side of Christ’s coming, we do know how redemption unfolds. We have the promises of the new covenant contained clearly in God’s word. We know that Christ has come and kept God’s covenant obligations on our behalf, paid the penalty of our failure with his death, and was resurrected that we might join him in eternal life. We know that he works all things for the good of those who love him (Rom. 8:28) and that this “light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17). And so, with Habakkuk, we are able to say in faith that, no matter the circumstances, we will rejoice in the Lord.
