A Midweek View from the Pew: When Prayer Turns into a Marathon

Now, I know the Bible says we should “pray without ceasing,” but I’m convinced some folks take that just a little too literally — especially during altar call.

Don’t get me wrong, I love prayer. I believe in prayer. Prayer changes things — and sometimes it changes me. But there’s a difference between a heartfelt conversation with God and a full-blown filibuster.

The other Sunday I decided to visit another church. During alter call, I stood, hands clasped, eyes closed, spirit willing — but flesh getting weak. I mean literally weak. The pastor said, “Grab your neighbor’s hand,” and I did. Ten minutes later, my hand had gone from warm to tingling to numb. At first, I thought it was the anointing. Turns out it was just poor circulation. I peeked one eye open, trying to make sure I still had all five fingers.

By minute twenty, I was praying two separate prayers: one for the people we were praying for… and another for God to send somebody with a bottle of water and a folding chair.

But here’s the thing — in Matthew 6:7, Jesus said it plain:

“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.”

In other words, God isn’t impressed by our vocabulary. He’s moved by our sincerity. He doesn’t need you to sound like a theologian; He just needs you to sound like you. Sometimes the most powerful prayer isn’t poetic — it’s plain.

“Lord, I need You.” “Lord, fix it.” “Lord, thank You.”

That’s it. No long speeches, no fancy phrasing — just truth from the heart. Because when you strip away all the churchy extras, prayer is just an honest conversation between a needy soul and a loving God.

Now don’t misunderstand me — there’s beauty in passionate prayer. There’s power in corporate worship. But the same God who heard Elijah call down fire from heaven is also the God who heard the thief on the cross whisper, “Remember me.”

So maybe — just maybe — the goal isn’t to pray longer, but to pray realer.

And pastors, I say this with love: altar calls shouldn’t turn into endurance tests. If the saints start checking their watches, shifting from one foot to the other, and mumbling “Amen” every thirty seconds hoping you’ll wrap it up — it might be time to land the plane.

Because if God hasn’t moved by minute twenty-seven, it’s not because He didn’t hear us. It might just be because we stopped listening.

I’ve learned that God doesn’t need theatrics — He needs truth. He’s not waiting for our best performance; He’s waiting for our best confession.

So next time I find myself at the altar, I’m going to pray quick, pray clean, and pray confident — and if my arm starts going numb, I’ll just say:

“Lord, restore my feeling — in my fingers and in my faith.” Because at the end of the day, it’s not how long you hold hands…It’s how strongly you hold on to Him.

“Sometimes the most powerful prayers are the shortest — because God hears sincerity, not syllables.”