For the pastor, a life of piety can sometimes become a professional hazard. We are expected to be the most “spiritual” person in the room, yet we are frequently the most depleted. When the work of the ministry becomes a barrier to the God of the ministry, we fall into a subtle but soul-crushing trap: We begin to treat God as an employer to be satisfied rather than a Father to be known.
I don’t know about you, but I relate to my boss very differently than I relate to my father. When we operate out of a “report-driven” prayer life, we offer up the church’s metrics and the stressors of the budget, but we rarely offer up ourselves. We begin to mimic the religious leaders Jesus warned against in Matthew 6:5—those who “love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others.” For them, prayer was a public performance, a professional requirement.
To break this cycle, we must prioritize how we engage in disciplines that stir our affections for Christ. We need a framework that shifts our posture from giving God a status report to simply abiding in His presence.
The Goal: Life with God
We need a framework for prayer that is rooted in the biblical story. If we were to trace the narrative of Scripture from beginning to end, we find a singular, driving theme: The good news that life with God is available to all who put their faith in Jesus.
Consider this “one-minute biblical theology”:
- Adam and Eve living with God in the garden.
- Abraham trusting God for a family.
- Moses enjoying friendship with God.
- Israel with God in the wilderness, the kingdom, and the temple.
- The Prophets hearing directly from God’s voice.
- Jesus entering our world to dwell—to tabernacle.
Jesus’ first message was that the Kingdom of God is here. John tells us that Jesus offers us eternal life. The Holy Spirit descends to dwell in us and build His church. Finally, the story ends with Jesus returning so that man and God can dwell together on earth forever.
Life with God, now and forever, is the goal of the gospel. Therefore, prayer is fundamentally about life with God. He has wired us in His image as relational beings; therefore, we must relate to Him in a relational way. The goal of prayer is connection to God and opening our hearts to Him, not simply requesting what we want.
Intimacy requires communication. Years ago, on my first date with my wife, we ordered our food and she began to ask me questions about my life. Imagine if I had said, “Nope! Not here to talk. I just want to eat.” The relationship wouldn’t have lasted. Why? Because intimacy requires communication. Communion with God requires conversation with God.
The Practice: Sitting with the Father
In the Gospel of Luke, we see that for Jesus, prayer was the source of His endurance. He frequently withdrew to lonely places—not as an escape, but as an essential withdrawal into the presence of His Father. The disciples saw the miracles, but they didn’t ask for a “how-to” on walking on water; they asked, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1). Jesus responded by directing them to the Father.
I want to invite you to step away from your desk and practice this specific rhythm. Find a quiet corner of your campus, a hallway, a bench, or a spot in the back of the room. For the next fifteen minutes, sit in the silence.
This is where we engage a sanctified imagination. This isn’t about “making things up” or escaping into fantasy; it is the act of using our minds to lay hold of the spiritual reality Scripture declares to be true.
Our theology tells us that because of the work of Christ, we have bold access to the throne of grace. The imagination simply allows us to believe that the Father is as present with us in this room as He was with the Son in the wilderness.
Acknowledge that you are in the presence of your Heavenly Father. He isn’t asking for your quarterly report; He is looking at you, His child, with favor because of Christ. In this space of presence, listen as He speaks to you, inviting you to hear His questions and reflect on His heart:
1. How are you doing?
Ignore the ministry stats for a moment. Look deeper than the “success” or “failure” of the church. How is your soul? Are you weary, joyful, or numb? How is your body—are you carrying tension, lacking sleep, or feeling the weight of the week? Speak to Him about the whole of your life, not just your professional heart.
2. Where have you noticed me at work recently?
Where have you seen His grace in the small, unscripted moments? Perhaps it was a conversation in the grocery store, a moment of peace during a hectic morning, or a specific verse that stuck with you. Look for the fingerprints of the Father in the ordinary.
3. What do you need from me?
Admit your needs without the filter of “pastoral strength.” Do you need wisdom for a specific conflict? Do you need the courage to rest? Do you simply need to feel the assurance of His love? Be specific about the areas where you are at the end of your own resources.
4. What do you want from me?
What are the honest desires of your heart? We often suppress our “wants” in the name of ministry, but the Father cares about the longings too. What are you hoping for? What are you dreaming about? Bring these desires into the light of His presence.
5. What do you need to trust me with?
What burden are you carrying today that actually belongs to Him? Is it the spiritual growth of a certain member? The future of the building project? The health of your own family? Identify the weight you were never meant to carry and consciously hand it over to the One who sustains all things.
I am convinced that prayer is the power of our endurance. When the weight of the ministry feels heavy, remember that the King of the universe is not waiting for your results; He is inviting you into His presence.
Step out of the office and back into the relationship. You don’t have to be a “professional” in the presence of the Father; you only have to be a son. Let the work of the Gospel wait for fifteen minutes while you enjoy the God of the Gospel. He is there, He is kind, and He is enough.