One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, “When you pray, say: “ ‘Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come.  Give us each day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation. ’ ” Then Jesus said to them, “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.  “So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. “Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
—Luke 11:1-13

~~~~~

Lord, Teach Me To Pray
By Jennifer Kane

I was made to connect with You, God.
Not just on Sundays
or in moments of desperation—
but daily.
Deeply.
Continually.

You have invited me
into this living rhythm:
to listen for Your voice,
to speak from the soul,
to dwell with You in stillness
and carry You with me in motion.

So teach me to pray—
not only with words,
but with trust,
with hunger,
with attention.

Draw me to the secret place
where time pauses,
where I lay my heart bare.
Remind me to pray for my family,
those You’ve given me to love,
and for my friends
who walk beside me.

For my pastors, mentors,
those who guide Your flock.
For enemies—
those who wound me—
that healing might begin.
For the work of my hands
and those I labor beside.
For my city,
this neighborhood I pass through each day.
For those in authority—
in my workplace,
in this world.

And yes, Lord—
teach me to pray for me.
Not selfishly,
but sincerely—
that I may be aligned
with Your will,
Your way,
Your Kingdom come.

Let me pray for the harvest—
souls longing for home—
and for laborers
to gather with joy.
Open divine doors
for Your glory alone.
Grow fruit in me:
love, joy, peace…
the kind that endures
and flows into my church,
my community,
my life.

Stir up the gifts You’ve placed within me—
not for show,
but for service.
Guard me from deception.
Clothe me
in the whole armor of God.
And when my words fail,
when I don’t know how to begin,
let Your Spirit pray
through sighs too deep for speech.

God,
keep me close
throughout the day.
Teach me to pray—
not as a task,
but as a lifeline.
A breath.
A way of being
with You.

Amen.

~~~~~

Scripture: Luke 11:1-13

There is something deeply moving about this moment in Luke 11. The disciples had watched Jesus pray, and instead of asking Him to teach them how to perform miracles or preach sermons, they asked for something much more intimate: “Lord, teach us to pray.” They had seen the connection, the reverence, the peace, and the power in Jesus’ prayer life. It wasn’t a formula they craved—it was the relationship Jesus had with the Father.

Prayer is both simple and profound. A child can do it with pure faith, and yet even the most seasoned believer never outgrows their need to grow deeper in it. As Andrew Murray once wrote, “Not power with men, but power with God is the first thing.” That power begins with prayer.

Jesus responds to their request not with a complex theology lesson, but with a model—“When you pray, say…”—and He gives what we often call “The Lord’s Prayer.” It is not a script to memorize as a ritual, but a framework for intimacy with God. It begins with relationship: “Our Father in heaven.” It moves to reverence: “Hallowed be Your name.” Then it shifts to surrender: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done.” Only then do we bring our needs: “Give us day by day our daily bread.”

This order reminds us that prayer is not about getting our way. It’s about aligning our hearts with God’s purposes. It’s about trusting Him for today’s provision and tomorrow’s direction. It’s about bringing our sins, and forgiving others. It’s about crying out for strength and deliverance in a world full of temptation and evil.

When we pray “Your will be done,” we echo the very heart of Jesus in Gethsemane. We choose surrender. And when we ask for daily bread, we learn to live in dependence—day by day. Not a stockpile of provision, but just enough for today, like manna in the wilderness.

What draws you to ask, as the disciples did, “Lord, teach me to pray”?
Is there an area of your life where you need to say, “Your will be done,” and trust God’s plan?
Ask Jesus not just to teach you how to pray—but to actually help you pray.

~~~~~

Father in heaven, thank You for inviting me into Your presence as Your child. Help me to honor Your name and desire Your will above my own. Provide what I need today—no more, no less. Forgive me, as I forgive others. Keep me from temptation, and deliver me from evil. Lord, teach me to truly pray—not just with my lips, but with my heart. Amen.

May 23 2025