Luke 11:1–13
There are moments in life when words fail you.
You want to pray, but you do not know what to say. You sit quietly, perhaps early in the morning or late at night, and instead of flowing words, there is silence. Not because you do not believe, but because you feel unsure.
And in a city like Lagos, where life moves quickly and demands are constant, those moments come more often than we admit. You are busy, you are tired, your mind is full—and yet, somewhere within you, there is still a desire to connect with God.
Take note of this: even the disciples of Jesus had the same struggle.
They had watched Him pray. They had seen the consistency, the depth, the calm assurance with which He spoke to the Father. And one day, they came to Him with a simple request: “Lord, teach us to pray.”
That request is more revealing than it first appears.
They did not ask Him how to perform miracles.
They did not ask Him how to preach.
They asked Him how to pray.
Because they understood something important: the power they saw in His life flowed from His connection with the Father.
You see, prayer is not merely a religious activity. It is not a routine to be checked off, nor a performance to be perfected. Prayer is relationship.
It is communication between a child and a Father.
And that is where many people struggle. They approach prayer as though it requires special language, special timing, or special conditions. They feel they must say the right words in the right way, or else they have not prayed properly.
But Jesus simplifies it.
When He begins to teach them, He does not start with complexity. He begins with relationship: “When you pray, say: Father…”
That one word changes everything.
Because it reminds us that prayer is not about impressing God—it is about relating to Him.
The thing is this: if you see God as distant, your prayers will feel strained. But if you see Him as Father, your prayers become natural.
Now, this does not mean that prayer is always easy.
There will still be distractions.
There will still be moments of dryness.
There will still be times when you feel as though nothing is happening.
But Jesus goes further. He speaks about persistence. He tells a story of someone who continues knocking—not because it is convenient, but because it is necessary.
This teaches us that prayer is not just about speaking; it is about staying.
Staying in that place of connection.
Staying in that place of dependence.
Staying even when the answer is not immediate.
And this is where many people stop. They pray once, twice, perhaps a few times—and when nothing seems to change, they withdraw.
But prayer is not a transaction. It is a relationship that grows over time.
In a place like Lagos, where everything is expected to move quickly, this can be difficult. We are used to instant responses, immediate feedback, quick results. But the ways of God are not always instant—they are intentional.
And so Jesus encourages us: “Ask… seek… knock…”
Notice the progression.
Asking is simple.
Seeking requires movement.
Knocking requires persistence.
Prayer deepens as we move from one level to the next.
But here is the assurance that holds it all together: God is not reluctant.
Jesus describes Him as a Father who gives good gifts. If earthly fathers, with all their limitations, know how to give good things to their children, how much more will God give what is good to those who ask Him?
This removes fear from prayer.
You are not approaching someone who is unwilling.
You are not speaking to someone who is indifferent.
You are coming to a Father who listens, who knows, and who cares.
The thing is this: prayer may not always change your situation immediately, but it will always change something in you.
It brings clarity where there was confusion.
It brings peace where there was anxiety.
It brings strength where there was weakness.
And over time, you begin to realise that the greatest gift of prayer is not just the answer—it is the relationship.
In a city full of noise, prayer becomes your quiet place.
In a life full of pressure, prayer becomes your steady ground.
In moments of uncertainty, prayer becomes your anchor.
And so, when you do not know what to say, begin where Jesus began:
“Father…”
That is enough to start.
Prayer
Lord, teach me to pray. Help me to come to You not with fear, but with confidence as Your child. Draw me closer to You and help me to remain in Your presence. Amen.
- Adapted from Speak Lord: Living in Prayer and Intimacy with God (Volume 4), part of the 12-volume Sermon Notes Series by Rev. Dr. Kayode Ilupeju.
