The Things We Stop Asking God For When We Feel Unworthy

Chapter 1: The Prayer You Almost Didn't Say

There is a moment some people experience when they sit down to pray and discover that they no longer know how to ask God for anything. Maybe you've been sitting on the edge of your bed, still wearing the clothes you worked in all day, with a pile of laundry waiting in the corner. You fold your hands because that's what you've always done, but instead of speaking, you sit there thinking about everything that has happened. You've prayed about these problems before. You've asked for help, forgiveness, patience, and some indication that things might eventually get better. Tonight, though, you feel strangely reluctant to ask again. You aren't sure whether you're tired of praying or whether you've quietly begun believing that God must be tired of listening.

I think about that feeling when I return to the story of the man with leprosy who wondered whether Jesus was willing to heal him. His encounter with Christ is recorded in Mark 1:40–45, Matthew 8:1–4, and Luke 5:12–16. There is something deeply personal about the words he chose when he approached Jesus. He didn't ask whether Jesus possessed the power to change his condition. He asked whether Jesus was willing. That distinction connects with finding the courage to approach God when you feel undeserving of His love, because there are seasons when believing in God's power feels easier than believing His kindness could still include someone like us.

Perhaps you've never said those words aloud. You probably wouldn't tell another Christian that you wonder whether God has become disappointed enough to stop caring. You know what Scripture teaches about His mercy, and you've encouraged other people to trust Him. But there is a difference between explaining God's compassion to somebody else and allowing yourself to believe that compassion extends to the parts of your own life you're ashamed to discuss. When you're carrying regrets that nobody knows about, it's possible to believe every wonderful thing you've heard about Jesus while still keeping your own heart at a distance.

The man with leprosy approached Jesus carrying a serious condition. Luke describes him as full of leprosy, and the laws of Moses established requirements concerning people affected by certain skin diseases. Those requirements could include separation from community life. Scripture doesn't tell us how long this particular man had suffered or what happened within his family. We don't know whether he had children, whether his friends had stopped visiting, or what his private thoughts were before he came to Christ. I don't want to invent answers to questions the Bible leaves open.

But I do want us to consider the words Scripture actually preserves.

Mark 1:40 records his request: “If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.”

I've returned to that verse many times because the uncertainty in those words feels familiar.

We can believe Jesus is Lord and still wonder what He thinks about the mess we've made of our lives. We can trust that He has authority over sickness while struggling to understand why someone we love remains ill. We can know that forgiveness is central to the Christian faith while quietly fearing that our own failures have somehow exhausted God's patience.

Sometimes our understanding of God becomes tangled with our experiences of people.

Maybe someone important in your life stopped speaking to you after you made a mistake. Perhaps you grew up believing affection had to be earned through good behavior. Maybe a relationship taught you that asking for too much eventually drives people away. After enough experiences like that, it can become difficult to imagine love that doesn't operate by the same rules.

A man who has recently separated from his wife might understand this struggle. He comes home to an apartment that still feels unfamiliar, places his keys on the counter, and looks at the empty spaces where family photographs used to hang. He knows there are things he should have handled differently. He has acknowledged some mistakes and is beginning to understand others. But instead of allowing remorse to lead him toward honest change, he begins treating himself as though his entire life has become a failure. When he tries to pray, he remembers every promise he didn't keep.

There is a difference between repentance and believing you are no longer worthy of mercy.

Repentance allows us to face what we've done and turn toward God with honesty. Shame can persuade us to remain hidden because we assume that being known completely would mean being rejected.

The man with leprosy didn't hide his need. He approached Jesus with it.

And Mark 1:41 tells us that Jesus was moved with compassion.

He reached out His hand and touched the man.

Then He said, “I will; be thou clean.”

I don't want us to move past that answer too quickly.

Jesus' response was not merely a demonstration of miraculous power. Scripture specifically tells us that He was moved with compassion. The suffering man was not simply a problem to be solved. He was someone Jesus chose to treat with mercy.

Of course, we must be careful about what we conclude from this. Jesus healed this man immediately, but that does not mean every Christian will receive immediate healing. Many faithful people continue living with serious illness, unanswered prayers, and painful circumstances. Their suffering should never be treated as proof that God loves them less.

The miracle tells us what happened to this man. The compassion revealed through Jesus helps us understand the Savior we approach.

And I think that distinction matters tremendously when we're struggling with feelings of unworthiness.

Imagine a woman who hasn't attended church for several months. At first, she missed a few Sundays because she was overwhelmed with responsibilities. Later, she stayed away because returning would mean answering questions about where she'd been. Now the longer she remains absent, the harder it becomes to imagine walking back through the doors. She still believes in God. Sometimes she watches a service online or reads a familiar passage before going to sleep. But she has gradually convinced herself that returning requires an explanation she doesn't know how to give.

There may be many practical reasons people become disconnected from a church community, and not every congregation is a healthy place to return to. But when shame alone keeps us from seeking God, we need to recognize what is happening.

We've begun treating our struggles as reasons to remain distant from the One we need most.

The man with leprosy could not solve his condition before approaching Jesus. If he had waited until he was clean before asking to be made clean, he would never have made his request.

Sometimes we place that same impossible requirement upon ourselves.

We tell ourselves we'll pray more seriously when our habits improve. We'll return to Christian fellowship once our lives look respectable. We'll ask God for direction after we've managed to clean up the decisions that brought us to this difficult place.

Yet the Gospel account shows a suffering man bringing his need directly before Christ.

He did not arrive with an explanation for why he deserved healing.

He came asking for mercy.

I wonder what might change if you allowed yourself to pray with that kind of honesty tonight.

You don't have to pretend the last year has been easy. You don't have to disguise your disappointment or offer God an impressive account of your spiritual progress. You can acknowledge the things you've done wrong, the circumstances you cannot control, and the questions you still don't understand.

There may be practical responsibilities waiting for you tomorrow. You may need to apologize, seek help, repair a relationship, or make a difficult decision. God's compassion is not permission to ignore those things.

But you don't need to finish repairing your entire life before speaking to Him.

When Jesus responded to the man with leprosy, He demonstrated compassion toward someone who came openly acknowledging his need.

For the person who has become hesitant to pray because life feels too complicated, that encounter offers a gentle invitation to reconsider what you've been assuming about God's heart.

You may not know how your circumstances will change.

You may not know when relief will come.

But you can stop treating your need as something that automatically makes you unwelcome before Christ.

Chapter 2: Coming Back to God Without Rehearsing an Apology for Being Human

A woman sits at her kitchen table early on a Saturday morning, holding a cup of coffee that has already gone cold. She has been trying to reconnect with her faith after a difficult year, but every time she begins praying, she finds herself explaining why she hasn't prayed enough. Before she asks God for anything, she feels compelled to account for her failures. What should be a conversation with her heavenly Father has slowly become an exercise in proving that she understands how far she has fallen short.

I think many of us do this without recognizing it. We confuse humility with constantly reminding ourselves that we aren't good enough. We believe our prayers must begin with shame before God will take them seriously. Certainly, there is a place for confession and repentance. But there is also a place for receiving the mercy Scripture tells us is available through Jesus Christ.

The man with leprosy approached Jesus with nothing to offer except an honest acknowledgment of his need. He did not know what Jesus would do, but he believed Christ possessed the power to help him. When Jesus responded with compassion, the man experienced something he could never have accomplished through his own efforts.

Our circumstances may not change the way his did. Some prayers remain unanswered in the ways we hope, and faithful Christians sometimes carry painful burdens for years. But the compassion revealed in this encounter reminds us that approaching Christ is not a privilege reserved for people whose lives are already in order.

There is another detail worth remembering. After healing the man, Jesus gave him instructions concerning the priest and the requirements of Moses. Mark tells us the man did not follow everything Jesus commanded. His gratitude did not automatically become obedience.

That detail speaks to me because Christian faith is not merely about receiving comfort. It is also about allowing the words of Jesus to guide how we live. When we experience His mercy, we should become more willing to listen, more prepared to acknowledge our mistakes, and more attentive to the people our decisions affect.

Perhaps you have something to put right in your life. Maybe there is a conversation you've avoided or a responsibility you've neglected. You can approach God honestly about those things while also taking practical steps toward change.

You do not need to condemn yourself endlessly to prove that your repentance is sincere.

The man with leprosy came before Jesus with an honest request. His story reminds us that faith can begin in uncertainty and that Christ's compassion is not dependent upon our ability to hide our struggles.

If prayer has become difficult lately, perhaps tonight you can begin again without rehearsing every reason you feel inadequate. Speak to God about what is actually happening in your life. Ask for the wisdom to recognize what needs to change and the courage to accept what remains beyond your control.

And when you are tempted to believe that you've become too much trouble for God, remember the man who approached Jesus uncertain of His willingness and discovered compassion.

You don't have to make your life look beautiful before bringing it into the presence of Christ.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

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