The reason why we don’t talk to God when we are discouraged is often because of a self-righteousness that we’ve bought into, somewhere buried deep in the subconscious. It’s not like we are having these forward thoughts like, “If I do this then God will do this.” It’s that the Gospel is odd and totally outside of the human capacity to really accomplish—it’s alien to our experiences.
The inner dialogue goes something like this:
“I’m doing something bad right now, and You see it; and if I acknowledge Your presence and omniscience in this embarrassing moment, it will only get me into further trouble. Besides, You are looking for right sacrifices, something I am incapable of bringing to You right now. I cannot find the strength to do what is right, and until I can get myself together, You aren’t listening.”
This is partially true—God is looking for obedience and right sacrifices. Psalm 51 culminates in right sacrifices, even when David acknowledges that the sacrifices that God was after was a broken and contrite heart.
The Gospel, however, doesn’t begin with that. The Gospel begins with a Father seeking His wayward sons and daughters, who have spent their fortune on wayward living, and have come home to the Father seeking relationship again.
God doesn’t hear me as a Judge, He hears me as a Father.
And this is how I ought to pray.
I ought to pray, “Dad—I need You and I need this stuff fixed. And I’m a hot mess right now. I’m the miserable cantankerous toddler at the grocery checkout, driving everyone mad. I’m the one waking You up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. But You’re the one that gets out of bed to satisfy me.”
God hears prayer as a Father, not as an adjudicator of my mess.
Jesus taught two wild parables about this: