Staying the Course in Prayer

It was a difficult hike—at least, difficult for the prairies. We’d done it before: an out-and-back trail that takes about six hours.

At one point, the path traced the edge of the lake. The sun was high and hot, so we found a spot to jump in and cool off, chatting with a few other hikers along the way.

As we carried on, I began to notice we were climbing higher, moving away from the shoreline. Knowing this trail had a few forks, I started to wonder if we’d gone the wrong way. My husband, though, encouraged me to keep going, reassuring me that we were still on the right path—despite my doubts.

I was tired, weary, and a little anxious that this might turn into a much longer return than necessary. But his words of encouragement and quiet confidence steadied me and gave me the resolve to keep moving forward.

Just as I needed to trust my husband’s guidance and keep walking when the trail grew uncertain, we too are called to keep going in prayer—trusting the Father even when the path ahead feels unclear.

In Gethsemane

When we turn to Matthew 26, we find Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane—alone with his disciples and in the throes of quiet anguish—facing the moment he’d long known was coming: betrayal, accusation, and arrest. Entering the olive grove, he models deep dependence on the Father.

He asks his disciples to stay awake and keep watch with him as he prays. Yet their human frailty takes over, and they fall asleep. Seeing this, Jesus gently wakes them, warns them of the weakness of the flesh, and returns to prayer. Again, he finds them sleeping. Without rebuke or complaint, he goes back once more to commune with his Father. And then, as his final time of prayer ends, the betrayer arrives.

Here we see Jesus persevering in prayer—marked by honest pleading and humble surrender—three times until Judas comes with the crowd to signal his arrest.

Though his closest friends could not keep watch, Jesus remained in fellowship with the Father. His disappointment became the soil for deeper dependence.

When we're in the same tight spot, do we persevere in prayer in the same way?

When There’s Trouble On the Way

We may have built a faithful rhythm of prayer—complete with a journal, a list of names and needs, or an app that keeps us on track. But sometimes we hit a wall.

Like hiking a steep trail on a hot summer day, we begin to question ourselves—our strength, our resolve, even our habits—because the pressure is on and weariness sets in.

When We Grow Weary

We grow tired of praying for the same things. Hope fades when God’s answer seems delayed. Frustration creeps in through the monotony, and our words begin to feel hollow. Perhaps illness has taken our strength, pain has become a constant companion, and fatigue makes prayer feel impossible.

When the Feelings Don’t Disappear

At other times, our emotions cloud our prayers. Anxiety swirls and keeps us up at night. Fear and sadness tighten their grip. Maybe someone has wounded us deeply, and though words of forgiveness leave our lips, our hearts lag behind—still clenched in bitterness or hurt. We wait for our feelings to change and wonder if they ever will.

When the Answer Doesn’t Come

Our beloved prodigal still hasn’t come home. The medical appointments continue, the prescriptions are refilled, the cycle repeats. Another round of addiction treatment, another setback. Healing—ours or theirs—feels out of reach. We’ve prayed all we can pray, and we wonder what’s left to say.

The path of prayer stretches before us, but our strength wavers and hope hangs by a thread. The way ahead may not look like what we expected, yet we can’t reach the end unless we keep walking.

So how do we persevere?

3 Encouragements For Us to Persevere in Prayer

1 KEEP IT REAL 

I write my kids a to-do list for after school so they don’t forget the important things they need to do. Have you noticed how constancy in prayer often appears in Scripture as part of a list?

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18)

“Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.” (Colossians 4:2)

It might seem like a passing mention, but these lists reflect what the writers didn’t want their readers to miss.

When we lose sight of this in the midst of distress or fatigue, we can pause and ask ourselves why we pray in the first place. If we see prayer as a way to get what we want, we’ll naturally feel disappointed or discouraged when things don’t turn out as hoped.

We may even begin to believe lies—that we’re not good enough for God to answer us, that He isn’t listening, or that He isn’t good.

But Jesus—the perfect, sinless Son of God—also prayed that the cup of suffering would pass from Him, and it wasn’t taken away. Still, He surrendered to the Father’s will. Prayer for Him wasn’t about results; it was about relationship. It was the rhythm of His communion with the Father.

We, too, are invited into that same fellowship. Prayer is about meeting with God. As R.C. Sproul writes, “The purpose of prayer is not to change God’s mind but to change ours—to bring us into communion with Him... He invites us—no, He commands and encourages us—to do that.” ¹

When we grow weary from unanswered prayers or tangled emotions, we take a step back and remember who God is: good, merciful, faithful, unchanging, and ever near. Then we begin to see prayer not as a burden but as a privilege. As Thomas Boston reminds us, “It is a privilege that God will allow us to come so near him, and to pour out our hearts before him—a privilege bought by the blood of Christ.”²

2 KEEP IT GOING 

“And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.” (Luke 18:1)

In Luke 18, Jesus tells the story of a widow who faced a grave injustice. She went to a judge who refused to hear her case. Yet she wouldn’t give up. She kept coming to him, again and again, until—worn down by her persistence—he finally granted her request for justice.

Maybe that kind of persistence reminds us of our kids’ requests. In our house lately, it’s been the ongoing plea for a dog. There are moments I nearly cave as I look into their sad eyes, but then I remember that caring for the pet will inevitably land on my already overflowing to-do list.

As followers of Christ, we’re called to persevere too—not by sheer determination or pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, but by God’s grace. His grace is sufficient for every weary heart.

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16)

Perhaps part of our weariness in prayer comes from how little time we actually spend in it. Martin Luther once said, “Work, work from early until late…. I have so much to do that I need to spend the first three hours in prayer.”³

Mic drop, anyone?

When was the last time we lingered that long before the Lord?

Maybe, just maybe, our exhaustion in prayer stems from relying too much on ourselves—on our checklists, our routines, our plans. Perhaps it’s time to lay aside what hinders us, throw off the sin that entangles, and run with endurance toward the Father who welcomes us still.

3 KEEP TRUSTING 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Philippians 4:6)

On that hot summer hike, I had to trust my husband to lead us—even when it felt like we were veering off track. In the same way, when our circumstances, feelings, or expectations don’t unfold as we’d hoped, we’re invited to keep praying and keep trusting.

And when words fail us, we have this promise, "The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)

What a comfort that is!

In the throes of anxious uncertainty or the listlessness of fatigue, the Spirit prays for us. We’re not alone.

Even when we feel stuck—waiting, longing, wondering if anything is happening—God is still at work. Waiting, though hard, is not wasted.

“Waiting, for the believer, never depicts God’s absence, his passivity, a lack of care, or his unfaithfulness. Waiting is a sign that you are under the control of intervening grace, because if you had control, you would probably never wait.” ⁴

And that’s true, isn’t it?

“Waiting is one of the greatest applications of the Christian faith. You are putting your trust in God, placing your hope in him, and expressing confidence that he is in control. Waiting puts us in an uncomfortable place where we’re out of control of our lives.” ⁵

By faith, we learn to rest in the beauty of God’s providence—even when it’s difficult. Suffering and hardship often leave us weary in body and soul, yet James reminds us,“The testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:3)

This refining work is for our good. Whether through trials or temptations, God is shaping our hearts, and He promises to bring that work to completion.

As Matthew Henry once wrote,

“It is our privilege and honour that we may pray.

It is our duty; we ought to pray, and we sin if we neglect it.

It is to be our constant work; we ought always to pray—it is that which the duty of every day requires.

We must pray, and never grow weary of praying, nor think of leaving it off till it comes to be swallowed up in everlasting praise.” ⁶

When you find yourself weary, waiting, or unsure of what God is doing, how might Jesus’ perseverance in Gethsemane encourage you to stay the course in prayer?

---

¹ R.C. Sproul, Truths We Confess, ch.2.

² Thomas Boston, Discourses on Prayer, p.12.

³ Martin Luther, quoted in E.M. Bounds, The Necessity of Prayer, p. 67.

⁴ Paul David Tripp, Do You Believe? ch.19.

⁵ Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy , p.113.

⁶ Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, ch. Luke 18.