Book Review: A Praying Life: Connecting With God in a Distracting World by Paul Miller
“…pray without ceasing…”—1 Thess 5:17
Book Information:
Author: Paul Miller
Pages: 304 pages
Publisher: NavPress
Year: 2017
When I was in my 30’s and serving on campus ministry, my supervisor asked me how I would like to grow spiritually in the coming year. I replied, “I’d like to learn how to pray more.” And I did.
I proceeded that year to read books about prayer, schedule more time to pray, and created prayer lists with all the people I wanted to pray for. But to be honest, I don’t think that really changed my prayer life. At least, it didn’t really help me pray more consistently.
Perhaps this was because I was more focused on the act of praying rather than the heart of praying. And there’s a difference. If I focus on the act of prayer without the heart of dependence that fuels it, it will quickly become pointless. And so I spent another decade not really praying much.
When Paul Miller first released his book, I—being intrigued by the title—picked it up. And to be honest, I don’t think I was ready for it. My heart was still independent and self-reliant.
But when the second edition came out, we had already adopted our daughter—and I was ready. I had taken Powlison’s class. I was far more aware of my need and dependence. I was one of the people Miller was writing for: “those struggling to do life, who pray badly yet long to connect with their heavenly Father.” That would be me.
“Self-will and prayer are both ways of getting things done. At the center of self-will is me, carving a world in my image, but at the center of prayer is God, carving me in his Son's image.”
After two chapters to introduce the book, Miller spends the rest of the time getting to the heart of our problem: learning to approach God in prayer as a trusting child, not a demanding and dissatisfied customer who wanted her due.
Unlike children, as adults, we have developed bad habits in our prayer life. Sometimes it is due to our hearts that have become disillusioned when God has failed to answer our prayers. At other times, it is simply because our hearts have breathed in the cynicism of our age.
To correct this, Miller reminds us that we must reconnect to God’s Story. In order to pray well, we need to remember that He is God—and we are not. When we pray, we enter into that plotline with our requests—things that further His Story, not merely our own desires. We pray that His will be done.
The last part of his book focused on a simple tool he found helpful to tracing God’s Story in the lives of others. His idea of prayer cards goes beyond simply making a list but writing requests that ask God to continue His Story in that person. Over time, these become written journals of God’s work in the lives of others as we pray for them.
Many of us have small views of prayer—not unlike a genie in a bottle. If you’re ready to let God address these, along with our unbelief in our prayer, then I encourage you to pick up this book.
How This Book Helped Me
Throughout the book, Miller peppers his big ideas with honest vignettes of his life with his own disabled daughter, Kim. I realized that this man was not merely a lofty theologian but one who faced challenges of his own—and still learned to pray. This gave me encouragement to continue the journey.
Some people turn to God in their times of trouble and suffering. Not me. When times are hard, I want to get out of them—and fast. I am so busy trying to figure out my own solutions to my problems that I don’t think of prayer. It seems too inefficient.
So I take things into my own hands. I try this. I try that. That’s what I did when I encountered the challenges that surfaced with our daughter.
Needless to say, none of them worked. But instead of seeing my own faulty means of dealing with these problems, I got angry at God for not helping me.
“But did you ask?” He seemed to say.
No, I did not.
And that, I discovered, was the real problem.
Sure, it’s easy for me to pray when I can clearly see that I would not be able to handle things on my own. It’s those things that I think I could actually take care of myself that I have trouble praying for.
But Miller reminded me that if I truly understood that I am a child, I would pray about everything. Even the things I thought I could handle myself. Especially these things.
Sometimes I felt a little silly asking God to help me to brush Anah’s teeth. But I started here.
And what He did was not that brushing her teeth became any more pleasant or joyful. I still don’t like it. But what it did do is that it began to change my heart.
It gave my heart something else to focus on instead of how disgusting the job was.
It taught me how to rely on Him for gentleness and self-control.
It helped me to give Him the glory when we made it through another teeth-brushing session.
In short, though it seemed simple, the more I prayed—every day, not just once in a while—as I brushed Anah’s teeth, He was changing me. Softening my heart. Reminding me that He was with me and would help me through all the challenges I would face.
And this is a lesson I really needed to learn. As Miller points out, “Learning to pray doesn’t offer us a less busy life; it offers us a less busy heart. In the midst of outer busyness.” And I needed that in the midst of my busy days.
Later, there would be schooling decisions, behavioral problems, and training issues. Now, there are questions of how to prepare her for her future.
But as I learned to pray through this simple act of brushing teeth, God has shown Himself to be my good Shepherd. He will guide me through life with Anah in line with His Story for her—and for me.
We learn to pray by praying in the midst of life. Through the ordinary as well as it’s unexpected turns. We learn to pray when we suffer.
Prayer is not some lofty, ethereal connection. It is honestly—and sometimes painfully so—real to life. And it is here, we experience the very real presence of Christ in our midst.
A Quote and a Question
“What do I lose when I have a praying life? Control. Independence. What do I gain? Friendship with God. A quiet heart. The living work of God in the hearts of those I love. The ability to roll back the tide of evil. Essentially, I lose my kingdom and get his. I move from being an independent player to a dependent lover. I move from being an orphan to a child of God.”—A Praying Life, ch. 14
What does Miller say we will lose when we have a praying life? What is your response to this? Does it make you feel fear, hope, or excitement for the adventure?
List the things we gain when we have a praying life. What particularly draws you in this season of your life? Why?
Consider the losses and the gains together in your particular situation. Count the cost for yourself. Are you willing to accept these losses to move towards the gains? What keeps you back?
Perhaps your first prayer is to admit these fears to the Lord—and then I encourage you to pick up the book and let Paul Miller mentor you into a praying life—which is really an exhortation to come with all your cares to Christ.
“Jesus opens his arms to his needy children and says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, NASB). The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with your wandering mind. Come messy.”
Additional Resource:
After reading the book, I checked out the companion video series, 30 Days to a Praying Life where Paul Miller and his prayer seminar leader, Bob Allums, demonstrate how they used their prayer cards to pray about everything.
