The Lord Convicted About Why My Prayer Life Goes Through Seasons

In June of last year, I wrote a post about how it's okay for your prayer life to go through seasons. I still wholeheartedly believe in what I wrote and that God gave me that encouragement filled with so much grace: that God isn't judging us based off how many times we pray throughout the day, that our prayer life isn't a checklist, that it's normal for us to naturally feel like praying more times than others. All of these things are still absolutely true, but recently God has revealed to me why my prayer life goes through seasons.

He convicted me in such a kind way, and I'm so thankful for it. He didn't tell me what was comfortable to hear - that it happens to everyone, that it's my hormones, that I can avoid the problem.

No, He told me what I needed to hear: that my prayer life goes through seasons sometimes because I don't always fully surrender my emotions and burdens to Him. In the seasons where it's harder to pray, I often have neglected fully pouring out my heart at the feet of Jesus. I hold onto fears and worries instead of reminding myself of the truth of who He is. I allow myself to doomscroll and spiral and stress - and I wonder why praying doesn't come naturally. I allow a wall of anxiety to be built up between me and God - so of course it's harder to pray.

We can't expect to feel close to our Father when we allow things to stand in our way of true intimacy. With our fists closed tightly over our worries and burdens, we refuse to let the Lord in, and by not letting Him in, we can't expect to experience peace and freedom. We need Jesus, desperately, but that means letting go of control. That requires vulnerability and openness. If we want prayer to feel natural, if we want to abide in the Lord and rest in His love, then we have to give Him space to work in our life and trust that He will carry the weight we've been holding onto.

And when I look at the patterns of my life, I see how true this is. I feel more freedom, more joy, and more connected to my Abba when I pour out my whole heart to Him - vulnerably and openly. My prayer life is more vibrant when I create space to hear and genuinely give God my fears instead of trying to analyze and solve my way out of them. My faith is stronger when I remind myself of the truth, root myself in Scripture, and praise God wholeheartedly instead of just going through the motions in my relationship with Him.

It wasn't easy to hear, that I often shut the door on God's face by clinging to my anxiety instead of Him, but it's what I needed to hear.

Sometimes surrender feels scarier to me than living in fear, but that's been holding me in captivity and preventing me from truly experiencing the Father's presence.

Oh, how great is the Father's love. I'm so thankful that His mercies are new every morning, and that He is so kind as to humble and convict me because He longs to be close to me, too.

If your prayer life has been feeling dry lately, or if you've struggled connecting with God, I'd encourage you to get on your knees and pour out your heart to Him. Let it all out - every lie, every fear, every doubt. Yell, weep, whisper - whatever it takes to leave it at the foot of the cross. Sit down and search Scripture for the truth over your situation, and speak it over yourself. Give all the brokenness to Jesus, all the weight you've been carrying, and let Him carry you.

My sweet friend, Jesus wants to carry you. This distance you've been feeling - it's not how you were created to live. The anxiety rooted deep in your heart - it doesn't have to be that way. Jesus is calling to those who are weary and burdened. and His yoke is easy and light. He wants to life the weight off your shoulders and allow His presence to penetrate your heart, but you have to let Him in first. You have to take the bandage off the wounds you've been hiding so that He can heal you.

I'm preaching this to myself, too.

Sometimes I forget that spreadsheets, calculating, and planning can't take away the fear or anxiety that shouts so loudly in my mind. I forget that I am powerless to go through this life alone, and that I am weak without the help of my Abba. I forget that God isn't mad at me, that He isn't disappointed in how easily I fall back into old patterns and lies. I forget how gracious, merciful, and gentle Jesus is - and I try to take control. I tightly close my fists around the steering wheel, trying to navigate through the valley on my own, instead of letting my Father lead me and show me all the flowers He's trying to grow.

Unclench your hands and let Him in.

When I let Him in, the walls around my heart start to fall. A physical weight often feels lifted from my shoulders and I can take a real, deep breath again. Freedom and peace rush in. Because I was never meant to go through life trying to fix and figure it out on my own. I wasn't created to feel far from my Father, but sometimes I get in my own way, forgetting to make space for His presence in the midst of the chaos that is my brain.

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This spoke to my heart, y'all. This encouraged me more than you know and once again I'm reminded of how good the God we serve is. He challenges us not to be mean or harsh, but to discipline and guide us like a loving Father does. He longs for us to experience the freedom of His Spirit, and so even when it's uncomfortable to hear that we've been getting in our own way, it's truly for our good.

Cry out to the Lord, friends. Let Him hear all the ugliness and heaviness you've been hiding, and I promise, before you even put yourself back together, God will meet you right where you are and lavish you in the most abundant, beautiful grace and freedom that you've ever experienced. And suddenly, at least for me, prayer feels a whole lot easier whenever I let Him in and get vulnerable with my Abba. Because then, He can actually help me, and I'm reminded that I'm never alone.

I'd also like to mention that sometimes you can live in full surrender and still struggle to feel close to the Lord. That's okay, too. God is never far, regardless of what our emotions tell us. But in every season, whether we feel the presence of God oh so clearly or we don't, we still can find so much peace and freedom in letting in all go at the foot of the cross. That's where all anxiety and burdens end and true life really begins.