Isaiah’s faith drives this lament. He believes three things about God: First, God is sovereign. He can do something. Second, God is love. He is for me. He wants to do something. And finally, God is a covenant-keeping God. He is bound by his own word. He will do something. Isaiah’s faith feeds off the character of God.

In bringing your real self to Jesus, you give him the opportunity to work on the real you, and you will slowly change. The kingdom will come. You’ll end up less selfish. The kingdom comes when Jesus becomes king of your life. But it has to be your life. You can’t create a kingdom that doesn’t exist, where you try to be better than you really are.

The gospel, God’s free gift of grace in Jesus, only works when we realize we don’t have it all together. The same is true for prayer. The very thing we are allergic to—our helplessness—is what makes prayer work. It works because we are helpless. We can’t do life on our own.

God, you have got to give Emily faith this year. You have no choice. I was keenly aware of my inability to grow faith in her heart. God just had to do it. He didn’t have a choice. He was bound by his own covenant. Was this a name-it-and-claim-it power prayer? No, it was actually a powerless prayer. I prayed because I was weak. I wasn’t trying to

I don’t mean to imply that if you parent right, then God will protect your kids. God himself struggles with his children.

Jesus’ brother James comes to the rescue and balances out Jesus’ extravagant promises. James describes two dangers in asking. The first danger, on the left side of the following chart, is Not Asking. James writes, “You do not have, because you do not ask.” The second danger is Asking Selfishly: “You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly,

Learning to pray doesn’t offer us a less busy life; it offers us a less busy heart.

Cynicism and defeated weariness have this in common: They both question the active goodness of God on our behalf.

Desire and surrender are the perfect balance to praying.