11 Learning to Pray Like Jesus

Paul and Shelby, servants of Jesus Christ, reflecting on prayer and authority.

To those who hunger for the Lord and long for His nearness — grace to you, and peace.

As our family has grown, we’ve found ourselves asking deeper questions about our faith. One theme kept rising to the surface:

Why does the church of today not look like the church in Acts?

In Scripture we saw not only Jesus, and not only the apostles, but also the disciples of the apostles healing the sick, setting people free from demonic oppression, raising the dead, and preaching the gospel with boldness and authority. And nowhere in Scripture do we find a single verse saying these things would stop, or that disciples should stop obeying the commands of Jesus.

So the question remained for us, quietly and persistently:

If Scripture has not changed, why have we?
Why does the church today not look like the church then?

As we wrestled with that question, we began to realize that everything in the book of Acts flowed out of how Jesus had taught His disciples to pray and to live before the Father.

Jesus taught His disciples to pray: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:10)

Prayer is not guessing. Prayer is aligning our hearts with God’s will.
And Jesus told us exactly what to agree with — the will of God done on earth as it is in heaven.

Every Christian believes in a heaven without pain, oppression, sadness, sickness, and disunity.

Scripture also says, “The effective prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” (James 5:16) We realized righteousness is not perfection — it is obedience, repentance, forgiveness, abiding. Scripture also teaches, “Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God.” (1 John 3:21) Sometimes the greatest barrier in prayer is not God’s willingness, but the state of our own hearts. A troubled conscience can cloud our ability to receive, but a clear heart strengthens our confidence in prayer.

James doesn’t leave the point abstract. He gives Elijah as the example: “Elijah was a man with a nature like ours. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain for three years. And he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain.” (James 5:17–18)

Elijah wasn’t superhuman. He was a man “just like us.”
The difference wasn’t Elijah — the difference was his alignment with God.

Jesus also said, “If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you.” (John 15:7)

So we asked ourselves: Do we actually abide in Him?

Jesus gave the test: “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” (John 14:15)

And He made this unmistakably practical. Jesus wasn’t speaking about abstract commandments — He was speaking about the two greatest commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind… and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37–39)

Abiding is not a feeling. It is a surrendered life—obedient, repentant, forgiving, and rooted in His Word.

The Word is Jesus — the eternal Word made flesh (John 1:1, 14). Scripture is a true written witness to Him, though even Scripture says the world itself could not contain all that Jesus did (John 21:25).

These verses began reshaping our understanding of prayer, giving language to what our spirits already sensed. We weren’t trying to move God’s hand. We were learning to align our hearts with His will.

We can know God’s will by knowing God’s Son who revealed the Father. Jesus said that whoever had seen Him had seen the Father (John 14:9). If we want to know the Father’s will, we look at the life of Jesus. And what did Jesus spend His time doing? Healing all who were oppressed by the devil, revealing the Father’s heart to restore, not to destroy (Acts 10:38).

Jesus also said that in this world we would have trouble, but to take heart because He has overcome the world (John 16:33). And Scripture teaches that we have a real enemy and that our battles are spiritual, not against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12).

It also says, “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” (Hebrews 11:6)
And this is where the rubber met the road for us.

Prayer is surrender and trust. And even when we do not yet see His will fully revealed on earth as in heaven, we trust that God works all things together for good for those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

Every account in Scripture shows that all who came to Jesus in faith were healed or delivered. Not one person who sought Him was ever turned away. His compassion was perfect then, and His heart has not changed.

Late in Shelby’s pregnancy with our fourth child, these truths again collided with reality. Shelby suddenly began to bleed. And, after a miscarriage between children two and three, the fear for her was immediate and real—especially in late pregnancy.

Before that fear could take root, something steadier than emotion rose in my spirit. Not emotion. Not adrenaline. Just agreement with what Jesus said was true.

I placed my hand on Shelby and spoke to the bleeding, commanding it to stop in the name of Jesus Christ. Not begging God. Not wondering what He might do. But aligning with His will “on earth as in heaven.” I believed it was done—because Scripture says that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us, and if He hears us, we have the petitions we asked of Him (1 John 5:14–15). It is like holding a receipt in your hand: the moment you pray according to His will, the answer is yours, and you simply wait for its arrival in the natural. (And this is never a blank check — it presupposes we are praying according to His will, in obedience, repentance, and love, not for worldly gain or fleshly desire.)

We went to the hospital. The nurse saw the evidence of bleeding, but she could find no cause. No tear. No condition. No explanation.

Standing there, the truth was simple: Jesus healed her.
Not because of special words, but because He is faithful to His Word and because He hears prayers offered in obedience, forgiveness, and faith.

That day didn’t teach us that we were powerful. It reminded us that Jesus meant every word He ever spoke, and every word was true.

We were only beginning to understand these things. Yet that day, something in our home shifted quietly but decisively — a new awareness of His presence, and of the authority He gives to those who abide in Him.

God-willing, we will write again soon.