Every Prayer Is Precious to God

By Sandy Mayle

It was a routine choir warm-up. The classic praise songs flowed together as we expressed our love for Jesus and our desire for His name to be glorified.

I stopped singing as other words intruded into my spirit, dark and chilling words: “My creed for life is one hundred percent devoid of supernatural inventions and delusions, like God or heaven or hell.” These words came from a humanist friend who regularly preached his dogma with an unnerving vehemence.

I closed my eyes and listened to the choir around me. The worship continued softly and sweetly as the praise choruses acknowledged our love for our heavenly Father. We sang of our longing for His name to be lifted up throughout the earth.

More of my friend’s words pushed their way into my mind: “Regarding my former praying, I now know that ‘that which does not exist’ cannot be expected to answer prayers, all of which end in the air they uselessly agitate.”

What God Hears

As I listened, I realized I was hearing a micro-mixture of what God hears from planet earth, virtually pole to pole, around the clock. In my mind, I imagined God sorting out the intermingled curses and blessings from infidels and worshipers, savages and saints, murderers and martyrs.

Small wonder, I realized, that every praise is precious to Him. Every prayer of faith, however halting or imperfect, delights His heart. Even the briefest expression of rejoicing and trust is music to His ears.

Does it sound fanciful, like just pretty, poetic imagery to envision our prayers ascending to God along with cries from Calcutta, plottings in the Middle East, chants from pagan jungles, boasts from North America, and curses from other continents? Should we believe that out of the unholy din riding the airwaves and the profane cyberbabel boomeranging from satellites, our praises rise to bring joy to a listening God?

God’s Children Have His Ear

We know that while God is Spirit, He is also a Person, with all the aspects of personality. He shares, in some way, our senses of touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing:

• “Does he who implanted the ear not hear?” (Ps. 94:9).
• “The eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him” (2 Chron. 16:9).
• “Because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Rev. 3:16).

Through those divine senses the Lord experiences our person-to-Person prayers. He’s not just mechanically processing our requests. “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their cry” (Ps. 34:15). “The prayer of the upright is [not His duty, but] His delight” (Prov. 15:8, nkjv, brackets added). God welcomes our voices—aloud or unspoken—as they rise through the discord from earth. He responds with emotional reaction and empathy:

• “The Israelites groaned in their slavery . . . and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. God heard their groaning . . . and was concerned about them” (Ex. 2:23–25).
• David called to God for help when Saul pursued him, and his cry came to God’s ears. The earth quaked and the mountains’ foundations shook, because God heard David’s voice and “he [God] was angry” (Ps. 18:7).
• As the divine Lover, God urged His beloved, “Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet” (Song 2:14).
• Disappointed by the silence of nine lepers He had healed, Jesus commended the effusive thanks of the tenth man (Luke 17:11–19).
• Amid the clamor of a fickle Palm Sunday crowd and the complaining of Pharisees, He welcomed and defended the joyful praises of His exuberant disciples (Luke 19:37–40).

Our Wonderful Privilege

The staggering news is this: God is always attuned to your voice and mine. Our cries come up before Him, and He is concerned about us. Our voices are sweet to Him. He cherishes our prayers. Our Lord is ministered to by our adoration, moved by our petitions, blessed by talking to us!

I still sometimes forget or neglect this wonderful privilege that is ours, shown to me during that memorable choir warm-up. When that happens, my time with God becomes a little more mechanical, a little less heart to heart. But when I remember that God welcomes my voice and is blessed by my prayers, here’s what happens:

I pray more. We’re naturally drawn to someone whose eyes don’t glaze over as we talk (even if we’re not witty or silver tongued), who is focused on what we are saying. We want to tell more; we want to tell all. Convinced of God’s interest and concern, I pray more often and more honestly, from the heart—or more readily relax and enjoy moments of silent communion with Him.

I pray less. My prayers are less wordy, for there’s no need to mindlessly expand requests when every word of mine is significant to the Lord.

I express less condescension in prayer, for I consider how my side of the conversation must sound to God. If He were bodily present, would I still feel the need to educate Him regarding the problem, re-remind Him of the urgency, and suggest various solutions? What would I really say?

I pay more attention. I am more aware of what I am saying. Unfortunately, everything God’s children say isn’t a delight to Him. Jesus recoiled from the words of complacent Laodicean believers: “I am rich . . . and do not need a thing” (Rev. 3:17). So now I pause at times to consider, How does what I’m praying make Him feel? Welcomed into my heart? Trusted? Or do my words betray suspicion that He really isn’t near, or doesn’t want the best for me and those for whom I intercede?

I pray with less fear, for if I ask the wrong thing or offer a theologically imperfect prayer, the Spirit is already graciously representing my need with His perfect plea (Rom. 8:27).

I praise more. I express my confidence in Him with more openness and my admiration for Him with less restraint. For I know that while much of what He hears from earth ignores or ridicules Him, the world’s godless static can’t overpower my expressions of adoration for Him. My little voice comes through loud and clear, and it gladdens Him! So I more frequently offer simple declarations: “I love You.” “I trust You.” “I adore You.”

Praying with the conviction that we have God’s ear adds new dimensions to communion with Him. Since that memorable night at choir practice, I better understand that our words are significant and that they are blessing God’s heart, which is constantly grieved by the sounds of earth.

Someday we will see more clearly how our prayers and praises have delighted Him, how deeply He has cherished them, and how faithfully He has answered each one.

SANDY MAYLE is a freelance writer who has written for the former Pray! magazine, Discipleship Journal, and other publications. Sandy and her husband Dave live in Erie, PA.

(c) 2013 Prayer Connect magazine.