The Real Work of Ministry: Standing Firm Through Prayer

“…praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints,…” –Eph. 6:18 (ESV)

Last month, I attended the CCEF National Conference, an event I always look forward to. In the opening session, Ed Welch posed an interesting question: What does a “dangerous day” look like?

He then described an ordinary, smooth day—no pain, no problems, with plans accomplished—until evening comes and we realize we haven’t prayed once. That, he said, is a dangerous day.

If that’s true, then I’ve been drifting toward dangerous territory. I know I need to pray when life or ministry gets hard. But when things go well, when ministry feels fruitful and plans move forward? It’s easy to rely on my own strength. I fail to recognize God’s grace in the ease. Welch’s message convicted me: doing for God is never as vital as depending on Him.

As I reflected, I began to understand why this is so dangerous. There is great joy in serving God, but ministry is not an amusement park—it’s a battlefield. Ephesians 6 reminds us that our true struggle is spiritual. We are advancing the gospel into enemy territory, but we also face an inward war within our own hearts. That battle is often the fiercest, and our primary protection is prayer. There’s more happening than meets the eye.

The Purpose of the Battle

Before we talk about how to pray, we must remember why we pray. We live in what theologians call the ‘now and not yet’—Christ’s kingdom has come, but its fullness is still ahead. Because Christ has come, died, risen, and ascended, the war is over. The decisive victory is His. Now, we live and labor, awaiting His return and the full restoration of all things.

In this in-between time, we’re engaged in the ongoing work of resisting the sin that remains in us even as we are advancing Christ’s victory. Understanding this helps explain why though the war is won, we still need to be prepared for battle.

This also reframes our ministry. Because resistance still exists, both in the world and in our hearts, we still wrestle with the enemy. We do the hard work of sharing the gospel so everyone has a chance to hear the good news before He returns. We spend time counseling others to confront the residual sin that hinders people from the fullness of Christ. We invest time in discipleship so believers are formed into His image.

These are not things we can produce on our own. No programs, events, or conversations alone can create spiritual change. We cannot draw hearts to God or produce spiritual growth. Yet, we certainly have a role to play and we need to continue the work.

It is when we try to do this work by relying on our careful plans that we enter into dangerous territory, even when serving in ministry. It’s easy to either elevate ourselves when things go well or despair when they do not. However, prayer keeps us anchored in dependence and reminds us that the work is His, not ours.

Praying in the Battle

Just because we are serving God in ministry doesn’t mean we’re protected from being drawn toward self-reliance. Therefore, we must be intentional to fight that drift. So how do we resist it? Here are a few practices that have been shaping me:

1. Pray first thing.

Justin Whitmel Earley’s book, The Common Rule, introduced me to the habit of kneeling prayer. It’s very simple—right after waking, I kneel down and offer a simple prayer along the lines of “This day is Yours. I belong to You. Help me live it aware of Your presence.” It takes less than a minute, but that physical posture helps orient my heart to the reality of my dependence and need.

2. Pray specifically.

Another thing I am learning is praying specifically. Paul Miller’s A Praying Life opened my eyes to the importance of praying about specific, ordinary things—even for his daughter’s lost contact lens in the middle of the forest floor. I remembered thinking, “He really prayed for that?” But I realized that my thoughts revealed my cynicism, not faith.

When I began praying specifically, I started interpreting the things that happened in my life as answers to prayer, which increased my gratitude. When He answers as I asked, I rejoice in His kindness. When He answers differently, I learn to trust His wisdom. Either way, my dependence deepens, and my awareness of His involvement grows.

3. Pray continually.

Paul’s call to “pray at all times” once puzzled me. Was I supposed to do nothing but pray? Over time, I’ve realizing it as a call to communion—a continual conversation with God as I go about my day. This looks like

• Praying when I read, asking for understanding.

• Praying when I write, asking for clarity and grace.

• Praying when I cook or exercise, thanking Him for daily strength.

Though I’m still learning this, prayer is starting to become the rhythm under everything else—the way I acknowledge His sustaining hand in every ordinary moment. When the dust settles, what matters is not how much I’ve done—but where I’ve stood.

Standing Firm

Prayer is not a task to check off but the way we take up the armor of God. It keeps us aligned with truth, righteousness, peace, and faith. It draws us near to the One who intercedes for us even now.

Though I’m still learning to pray, I thank God that He keeps teaching me. There is so much to learn about this most basic—and vital—of spiritual practices. It protects me in the battle, keeps me aligned with God individually, and helps me stand firm as I seek to serve Him each day.

And so, even on the smoothest days, we pray. It’s when we need His protection the most—protection from self-reliance or the lie that it’s all up to us.

May the Lord guard you from dangerous days—the ones that feel easy and self-sufficient—and draw you into steady dependence on His grace. May He make prayer your first response, your lasting habit, and your truest rest.