Using Our Prayer Fatigue to Grow Our Faith in God

A few years ago I graduated with my master’s degree, ready to begin my life in the 9 to 5 sector. I was eager to get started and excited by the endless opportunity I saw ahead of me. This is what the last 24 years of education prepared me for, after all. I was excited but not naïve.

Many other successful students struggled to find a job after graduating, and most, if not all, waited years and years before landing their dream job. I was prepared to wait too. By my estimation, I’d work a temporary job for a few years before moving on to the next thing that would lead me a step closer to the “dream job.” I didn’t know exactly what the dream job was (I still don’t), but I was sure I’d figure it out.

A few months after graduation two job offers landed in my email inbox simultaneously. When I think back to this pivotal moment in my history, I wonder what would have happened had I chosen the other one. I wonder if I really felt God leading me to the position I chose, or if I heard only what I wanted to hear? Was my pride talking louder than God’s gentle whisper?

Is God Still Present in Our Prayer Fatigue?

Prayer fatigue is as common as decision fatigue, and just as difficult to navigate. When we are stuck in a cycle of asking the same prayer of God and receiving the same answer, it wears on our soul, on our whole being. It’s the toddler asking over and over for ice cream for dinner, to which the parent replies, “Just wait.”

Are we the parent, practicing patience and righteousness, or are we the toddler, forever badgering our father for that one thing we are sure will fill up our soul with contentment this time?

What we ask for might not be as bad for us as a bowl of mint chocolate chip every night for dinner. More often than not, we are asking for good things. Things we hope will bring us joy and enrich our lives.

It might be for a job opportunity, any job, that helps us pay the piling bills. The restoration of a broken relationship, for which your heart is longing for healing. Maybe it’s to finally see the two faintly pink lines on the white test stick, sitting perched and hopeful on the side of the bathtub. None of these are bad things. In fact, all of these things would bring great joy. Security and provision, healing and restoration, fulfillment and love beyond measure. These are not bad requests to put in prayer, but they might not be the answer to our real question.

Is this the answer I was looking for?

Nerves fluttered in my belly as I parked my car on the first day of work. I checked a ‘Good luck. You’re going to do great!’ text message from my husband, Ryan, gathered my lunch box and purse, and headed inside. The work itself for this job was not what excited me. It was completely unrelated to both of my degrees. My excitement came from the inherent need to belong, for acceptance, for that ever-elusive feeling of being chosen. I knew this was just a job, not a career, but it would get me started.

The shine of something new began to wear off after about a week, leaving in its place a strange taste in my mouth. Somewhere in this place the balance started to tip, but I didn’t know which way it was moving or for whom.

The sturdy ground I stepped on when I started turned to broken glass and eggshells. Rather than striding with sure steps down the halls, I found myself looking over my shoulder with fear as my companion.

If you’ve been around here before you know that fear is not our friend. Fear pushes forcefully and isolates us inside our lonely ice castle.

Each day I walked through the door of the office a realization was growing inside me. This is what I asked for, but it’s not the answer to my prayer. The security, predictability, and sense fulfilment I expected from this job did not come. My identity still fell loosely through my fingers, like gritty sand between my toes.

If we’re keeping score, who’s winning?

After working at this job for exactly one month, I was fired. I walked in one morning to a meeting where fabricated faults and accusations were hurled at my slack-jawed face. I could not believe what I was hearing. The lies they told about me in that meeting were quick, deep cuts. If they truly believed any of the lies they uttered, it was a good thing I packed my few belongings and left.

All of that was back in 2018, a lifetime ago, and my job search continued since then. Thousands of applications and emailed resumes, alongside many fruitless interviews at large and small companies. No response, or the ‘We’re going in a different direction’ line again and again and once more for good measure. Each rejection letter was another pinprick in my heart and another tally against God.

Didn’t God tell us to make our requests known to him? Well, how much clearer can I be, Lord? I need a job!

My prayer for God to provide a job, an open door, or a connection went out from my heart often, but when I heard the same answer again and again, I felt abandoned by him. It felt as if God were saying, “She’s not good enough at anything to be hired, so let’s move on to other people’s problems.” I felt forgotten. Every prayer I uttered rang hollow in my heart, and yet…

Where do I go from here?

God may not have given me the answer I wanted to hear, but he continued to lead me back to his word where I devoured, dissected, and analyzed.

Pouring over scripture in search of an answer to why God was telling me the same thing over and over, I found no fault, only hope and peace. Even when my prayers seemed to fall of deaf ears, God showed himself to me in his word, and in turn, he revealed who I was too.

Turning to God’s word isn’t the only response we have when we experience prayer fatigue, and to be clear, I searched for solace and the answers I wasn’t hearing, not for reassurance of what I’d already been told. Some people lose hope altogether, letting their faith turn into a bitter memory. Still, others turn away muttering, “Good riddance,” as they walk in the opposite direction, cursing a God who could let this happen to them.

I don’t believe there is a right way to respond to prayer fatigue. Our responses will be as individual as we are. But even when we’re walking through a season that challenges and tests and refines our faith, God is working. He doesn’t allow us to walk through the fire without making us stronger, wiser, and more resilient for the next time, and be assured, there will be a next time.

Although this was a difficult season to walk through, my heart has never felt as close to the Lord as it did during that time. Growing in our faith is like walking on hot coals. We don’t want to do it and it hurts a little to do the growing. But looking back over our shoulder at the smoking, smoldering coals we walk forward with the sure step of someone who knows what God is capable of doing. We move forward knowing what he did for us.

Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash