The Power in Prayer

     Have you ever prayed for something and felt like your words just bounced off the ceiling? I certainly have. Those moments when you wonder if prayer actually accomplishes anything concrete in this world. After all, God already knows what we need before we ask, right? So why bother with the whole exercise?
     This Sunday, we're continuing our sermon series called "The Heart of Prayer" by looking at Colossians 4:2-4. These three verses might seem simple at first glance, but they contain wisdom into what prayer is supposed to be in our lives. Paul writes these words from prison, which makes them even more remarkable: "Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should."
     Paul doesn't treat prayer as optional. He doesn't view it as a religious ritual we perform to check boxes. Instead, he sees it as essential partnership with God that requires devotion, watchfulness, and gratitude. And this comes from a man in chains. If anyone had reason to question whether prayer "works," it would be Paul.
     The Greek word Paul uses for "devote yourselves" suggests persistent dedication and endurance. It's a present imperative verb, which means it's commanding ongoing action. Paul isn't saying "pray sometimes" or "pray when you feel like it." He's saying make prayer your constant practice, your lifestyle. The early church in Acts used this same word to describe their devotion to prayer, breaking bread together, and the apostles' teaching. It was fundamental to their identity.
     Think about your closest relationships. They don't thrive on occasional interaction. They require consistent presence, attention, and communication. Prayer works the same way. It's not primarily about getting stuff from God. It's about partnership and relationship with Him. This challenges me because I often treat prayer like a drive-thru window, I show up when I want something, place my order, and expect quick service. But Paul's language suggests something much richer: showing up consistently whether we feel like it or not, whether we see immediate results or not. I'm reminded of Abraham negotiating with God over Sodom's fate in Genesis 18. Moses standing in the gap for Israel after the golden calf incident. These weren't one-off prayers but examples of people who had cultivated a lifestyle of communication with God that positioned them to partner with Him at crucial moments.
     The second aspect Paul emphasizes is being "watchful" in prayer. This word carries the sense of staying alert, being vigilant. It's the same term Jesus used when telling His disciples to watch for His return. Why does watchfulness matter in prayer? Because prayer isn't mindless repetition or going through motions. It requires spiritual alertness, paying attention to what God is doing, what He's saying, and how He's moving. It means praying with eyes open to the world around us, sensitive to needs and opportunities that align with God's purposes. This watchfulness connects to what theologians call the "already/not yet" tension in which we live. God's kingdom has already come in Christ, but it's not yet fully realized. Our prayers operate precisely in this gap. We're not informing God of things He doesn't know. We're partnering with Him in bringing what is "not yet" into the "already."
     Think about Elijah praying for rain after the drought. God had already decided the rain would come, but He ordained that it would come through Elijah's persistent, watchful prayer. James 5:17-18 tells us Elijah "prayed earnestly" and kept sending his servant to look for clouds. He combined devotion with watchfulness, and the result was rain that ended a national crisis. Yes, there's mystery here. I can't fully explain how our prayers interact with God's sovereignty. But Scripture consistently shows that God chooses to work through human prayers rather than apart from them. Our prayers don't change God's mind in the sense of giving Him new information or altering His character. But they do activate His purposes in ways that wouldn't happen without them. This isn't vague spirituality. It's concrete partnership. When we pray for someone's healing, for reconciliation in a broken relationship, for wisdom in a difficult decision—we're not just hoping something might happen. We're actively participating in God's work. We're becoming the means through which His will becomes reality on earth.
     The third element Paul mentions is thankfulness. Notice he doesn't say "be thankful when your prayers are answered." The thankfulness accompanies the prayer itself, regardless of outcomes. This points to something prayer does to us.
     Prayer changes things, yes. But more importantly, prayer changes us.
     I've noticed this in my own life. When I pray consistently, my perspective shifts. Problems that seemed overwhelming appear different. Not because the circumstances necessarily changed, but because I've changed. Prayer realigns my thinking with God's truth. It reminds me of His faithfulness in the past. It helps me see situations from His perspective rather than my limited viewpoint.
     This is what happened to Paul. Here he is in prison, and what's he focusing on? Not his chains, but his mission. Not his limitations, but the opportunities. He asks for prayer not primarily for his comfort or release, but "that God may open a door for our message." His priorities have been transformed through his prayer relationship with God. Moses' face literally shone after spending time in God's presence. Jesus was transfigured while praying. Something happens to us when we devote ourselves to prayer. We begin to reflect more of God's character. Our desires align more with His purposes. Our anxieties diminish as His peace takes over. Paul immediately applies his instruction by asking the Colossians to pray for his ministry. This wasn't theoretical for him. If prayer doesn't actually do anything, why would he bother asking? The fact that he does ask—specifically and strategically—shows he believed prayer made a real difference.
     So what about us? If we take Paul's words seriously, how might our approach to prayer change?
     First, we'd stop treating prayer as an emergency-only measure. We'd recognize it as our primary partnership with God, not a last resort when all else fails. We'd build prayer into the rhythm of our days, not just crisis moments.
    Second, we'd pray with our eyes open. We'd become more attuned to what God is already doing around us and join Him in that work. We'd pray more specifically, more strategically, and with greater expectation.
    Third, we'd approach prayer with thankfulness regardless of circumstances. This doesn't mean denying difficulties. It means acknowledging that even in hard times, God remains good, faithful, and present. Paul modeled this from prison, and we can follow his example.
     Some of you might still wonder: "But does prayer actually change anything?" Consider this: throughout Scripture, from Genesis to Revelation, God consistently invites human participation in His purposes. He could accomplish everything without us. Yet He chooses to work through relationship with us. Prayer is the heart of that relationship. When Moses interceded for Israel after the golden calf incident, Exodus 32:14 says, "Then the Lord relented and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened." When Hezekiah prayed for healing, God added fifteen years to his life. When the early church prayed, Peter was miraculously released from prison. These weren't coincidences or symbolic stories. They were real interactions between God and His people through prayer. The objection often comes: "But God already knows what will happen. It's all predetermined." This creates a false dichotomy. God's foreknowledge doesn't negate the reality of our prayers as causes that produce effects. In fact, God's foreknowledge includes our prayers as part of His plan.
     I like how C.S. Lewis put it: "We can't see the whole picture that God sees—we're like flatlanders trying to understand a cube." From our perspective, prayer makes a difference. From God's eternal perspective, our prayers are already factored into His purposes. Both can be true simultaneously. This doesn't resolve all the philosophical tensions. Some mystery remains. But it does tell us that our prayers matter. They're not empty words or psychological exercises. They're real participation in God's work. That's why Paul could write from prison with such confidence. He knew his circumstances didn't limit God's power or presence. He knew his prayers, and the prayers of others, were making a difference even when he couldn't see immediate results.