When my father died of cancer, the inevitable question in my heart was whether he would have lived if I had shown greater faith. I lived with significant guilt that his death was somehow my fault. Rather than bringing hope, every sermon I heard on healing was like salt on an open wound. I felt spiritually attacked and harassed whenever I read verses about Jesus healing the multitudes or verses like Isaiah 53:4 and James 5:15. And I was convinced my prayers were powerless.

Our spiritual enemies want nothing less than to convince us that God is far-off, distant, and unwilling to respond to our prayers. From our human perspective, God’s response or lack thereof can make the lies of our spiritual enemies feel real. But God wants us to persist in prayer (Luke 11:9- 10). Not because we want to get our way. Not because He’s hard to please. Not because He delights in our pain. Persistence has a way of purifying our lives of any idolatry. Ultimately, prayer means acknowledging that only God is God. He wants us to give Him our everything, and He wants to be our everything.

A man of great faith and obedience, Elijah showed on Mount Carmel that God alone would be magnified (1 Kings 18:36-37). His faith kept him focused on what he knew was true—God was in control, worthy of deep reverence, and sovereign above all. Elijah heard with his spirit what he could not see with his eyes (1 Kings 18:41).

Prayer isn’t supposed to be simply a crisis response or a passing thought. It’s a position of consecration before the Lord, a place of continued dwelling, or— as Colossians 4:2 reminds us—an act of devotion. Prayer means staying facedown until we see God’s answer—not the answer we want (1 Kings 18:44).