“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
AAAA-MEN!”

My mother taught me that little prayer. It is embedded in my memory so firmly that I have no recollection of having learned it. It’s just always been there. The rhythm and the rhyme of those familiar verses were a comfort, forming a bedtime ritual where my final thoughts of the day were suspended, because it was time to pray.

“Say your prayers,” she would tell me. And I would recite it faithfully, the palms of my hands pressed together and my eyes squeezed tightly shut.

A small pink plaque with the prayer written in black script hung in my bedroom, with the profile of a little girl at the top. She looked so much like me, a frill of bangs across her forehead, with wispy shoulder-length hair falling behind.

As I grew, the meaning of the words became more than just a nightly mantra. My focus landed on one terrible word: DIE. You mean I might die in my sleep? What could possibly happen to me? And I began sleeping with my face turned toward the window in case a vampire or alien invasion or the boogeyman came for me.

Facing the window, to the right of my bed, I might have a chance. I could scream loudly enough that my parents might come and rescue me, but if they couldn’t get there quickly enough, I would fight to the bitter end. My imagination conjured up all sorts of horrible ways to die or be “taken,” my soul sucked from my body, even by the Lord Himself.

And then I learned to read! The words on that little pink plaque were different from what I had memorized:

“Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep.
Be with me through this night I pray
And also through the coming day.”

Ah, what relief! I didn’t have to pray about surviving a zombie apocalypse anymore!

Prayers for the young are often recitations, much like the Pledge of Allegiance. I remember standing along the hallway outside the lunchroom in kindergarten, saying, “God is great, God is good,” along with my classmates. We had prayer in school, but I don’t know how much it meant to us, other than just one more thing to have to do before we could go into the cafeteria and eat our steak or chicken nuggets.

I also remember sitting in church and making a game out of the words used during prayer, even counting the number of times certain words or phrases were repeated. I once got to 21 “our fathers” in a single, less-than-a-minute, offertory prayer.

And there are others:

• O Lord
• Father God
• Forgive us of the sins of omission and commission
• Bless the gift and the giver
• Forgive us where we fail thee
• Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies and our bodies to your service

Prayer became meaningless, entertainment even, as I analyzed each delivery and broke it down into nothing more than a study of language and personality. It has only been as an adult that prayer has become to me what God intended it to be—personal, true, honest, and worshipful—my own words, not those learned to be recited as some incantation.

Prayer is an essential part of a believer’s life, but we need to take care that we are not prayer zombies and merely repeating what we think sounds good. Doing so cheapens the true communication that God wants us to have with Him.

Jesus admonishes his followers in the Sermon on the Mount about this very problem:

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 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.”

Matthew 6:5-8

Prayer that goes straight to the heart of God is desperately honest, personal, and straightforward. It is often raw, a sincere plea for help, a genuine cry for healing. God wants us to communicate with Him on a very real and intimate level, for He is not some uncaring, distant deity, nor is He an English or speech teacher ready to give us a bad grade if we don’t use the right words.

What matters most is whether our hearts are in the right place.

The LORD detests the sacrifice of the wicked, but the prayer of the upright pleases him.

Proverbs 15:8

Prayer is a habit and a discipline that will strengthen our relationship with our Creator. That He wants us to be in fellowship and communication with Him is one of the greatest blessings He gives us. 

So today, let us pray—whether our eyes are open or closed, heads bowed or uplifted, hands raised or clasped before us, our posture kneeling or standing. Let us pray–whether we’re working our jobs, singing praises in the shower, caring for our children, or driving to the grocery store.

But please, Lord, help our hearts and our words to be true.

And one more thing, God: if I do die before I wake, I know it won’t be a vampire or an alien invasion or the boogeyman that will take me. I know my soul is safe with You.

But I will still, forever and always, prefer to sleep on my right side.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 

I Thessalonians 5:16-18