Stop Praying for Others

Prayer is powerful. Praying for someone can be a powerful tool we have as struggling fallen humans. We see others entering rough horrid phases, and we pray. We pray, we pray, we pray.

Stop. Stop praying, and start doing.

Prayer can be paradoxical in many ways. Our intentions are good. We pray that God ministers to someone, but what if we’ve got it backwards? What if God wants to use us as the ministers?

We see someone struggling with loneliness, and we pray God would send her just one solid friend. But why can’t we fill that need ourselves?

We pray for the hungry homeless man we drove past tonight. But why can’t we pull over and slip him a ten-dollar bill? Or perhaps better yet, an actual face-to-face conversation?

We pray for change to come to this country, but do we do anything beyond casting our ballots every two years and posting negative status updates?

We pray so much, and we forget that we can do too.

I’m the worst offender.

I’m the guy who knows a friend could use a phone call or a lengthy email or even a handwritten letter, and instead I passively pray for him.

I’m the guy who walks past that dirty homeless woman sleeping outside a coffee shop, and I pray for her. I don’t dare approach.

Over the last couple months, I’ve been slowly digesting Love Does by Bob Goff. It’s opening my eyes to a stale, hurting world in dire need of prayers, yes. But action too. Because true love doesn’t let tragedy and heartache unfold before our eyes without a single step.

Love does. Love takes action and makes that phone call, writes that letter, and buys a hot meal. Love infuses a hopeless story with life.

Sure, love prays. Love prays ferociously. But amid my earnest prayers for humanity, I forget I’m part of the equation. That along with a burdened heart, I have arms and legs and a perfectly functioning brain.

I forget God constantly uses us — other human beings — as vehicles of His love. That a “miracle” doesn’t have to consist of a poof of pink smoke. We can be the miracle.

Maybe we’re someone else’s answer to the prayers we and they are praying.

I can’t imagine how many times my prayers for another person — prayers of provision — could have easily been remedied. If only I’d stepped out. Maybe we really need to start praying more for ourselves.

For burdening at the sight of someone hurting.

For perspective to minister to the hurting, even amid an entire crowd of fake worn smiles.

And then for courage to step out in uncomfortable intentional ways.

I want my introverted fearful self to pray less and do more for others. I want to instill someone with a story worth telling. A story of rescue and restoration, of transforming a smile, if only for a single day, a single moment.

I want to step in and be the answer to someone else’s last ditch prayers.

Are we praying too much? Is there not enough doing? What’s just one way you could be intentional about loving somebody today — friend, family member, or complete stranger? Share it here!