From Saying Prayers to Truly Praying
Moving from words we say to a heart that truly speaks with God
I’ve been thinking lately about the difference between saying prayers and praying. At first, they might sound like the same thing—but the longer I walk with God, the more I realize they’re not.
There have been seasons in my life when I said prayers because I thought I was supposed to. Before meals, at bedtime, in church, even when someone asked me to pray out loud. The words came out, but my heart wasn’t always there. I was saying prayers, but I wasn’t really praying.
And then there are other moments—the ones where I can’t quite find the right words, or I’m crying too hard to finish a sentence, or all I can manage is a whispered, “Help me, Lord.” Those moments feel different. They’re messy and imperfect, but they’re real. And I know God hears them because they’re not just words. They’re prayer.
Saying Prayers
As a little girl, I learned prayers by heart. “Now I lay me down to sleep…” at bedtime, “God is great, God is good…” before meals. Those words had a sweetness to them, and they gave me structure as I learned how to talk to God.
But as I grew older, sometimes the routine took over. I’d bow my head, say the words, check the box, and move on.
Jesus spoke about this in Matthew 6:7–8:
“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”
Saying prayers isn’t bad. Memorized prayers, written prayers, even repeated prayers—they can all be meaningful. But the danger is when they become empty recitations, disconnected from the heart.
Praying
Praying, on the other hand, is less about polished words and more about presence. It’s not a script—it’s a conversation.
Romans 8:26 reminds us:
“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”
Praying is what happens when I sit at my kitchen table with my Bible open and whisper, “Lord, I don’t know what to do, but I need You.” It’s what happens when I’m driving down the road, talking to God out loud like He’s riding in the passenger seat. It’s what happens when I’m too tired to form a sentence, but my heart leans toward Him anyway.
Praying doesn’t require the perfect setting or the right formula. It simply requires a willing heart.
Everyday Examples
I’ve noticed in my own life how often I drift into saying prayers instead of praying.
At dinner: I catch myself rushing through grace so I can eat while the food is still hot. My lips move, but my heart is already on the plate in front of me.
Even in church, while everyone’s praying together: Sometimes I realize I’m mouthing the words without really thinking about them.
At night: There are evenings when I crawl into bed, exhausted, and I say the same quick lines before sleep—more out of habit than hunger for God.
But then there are moments when prayer breaks through the routine.
When a friend texts, “Please pray now.” My heart stirs, and I lift their name up like it’s the only thing that matters.
When I’m convicted of something. Suddenly my whispered, “Lord, forgive me” feels more powerful than any long prayer I’ve ever memorized.
When gratitude overflows. Like when the sunrise hits the window just right, and I can’t help but breathe, “Thank You, God.”
That’s the difference. One is about repeating words. The other is about relationship.
How to Move From Saying Prayers to Praying
I don’t think it’s about throwing out memorized prayers or set times of prayer. Those things are valuable. But if I want to pray—really pray—here are a few things that help me:
Slow down. I take a breath before I begin and remind myself: I’m talking to my Father. Not just reciting words into the air.
Use scripture as conversation. Instead of just reading, I turn verses into prayers. For example, Psalm 51:10 becomes: “Lord, create in me a clean heart today. Wash away this impatience I keep falling into.”
Be honest. Some of my truest prayers are messy: “God, I don’t even know what to ask right now, but You know.”
Include silence. Sometimes the best prayer is sitting still and letting His presence wash over me. Prayer isn’t only about me talking—it’s about me listening.
Write it down. Journaling my prayers keeps me from rushing. It also lets me look back later and see how God answered.
Why It Matters
I think the reason this has been on my heart is because life is too short to miss out on real connection with God. Saying prayers checks a box, but praying changes me.
Praying draws me into His presence.
Praying reshapes my worries into trust.
Praying reminds me that He is near and that I am not alone.
Psalm 145:18 says:
“The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.”
That’s what I want—truthful prayer. Not polished, not perfect, but real.
What I’m Holding Onto
Saying prayers may fill the air with words, but praying fills my soul with God’s presence. I don’t want to just go through the motions. I want to walk closely with Him, speaking from my heart, knowing He hears me every time.
With gratitude and faith,
Patti
I really feel this difference, Patti. Thank you for these words.