One of the lies of the enemy is that you are different, that others are more spiritual than you and find spiritual disciplines easy.

You’re the only one with these problems in prayer.

Others get up in the morning eager to spend an hour with the Lord in prayer; you’re the only one who has to drag yourself over to a chair and open the Bible and force yourself to pray.

Others pray smoothly and eloquently and always know what to say; you’re the only one who stumbles along haltingly as though you were just learning to speak or were trying on a foreign tongue.

Others never are plagued by doubt and offer up these magnificent sacrifices of praise and intercession that Heaven welcomes, values as jewels, and immediately rewards; you’re the only person who fights back the doubts as you pray and wonders whether the whole business is accomplishing anything.

Others see answers to their prayers as a matter of routine; you’re the only one who doesn’t.

Way wrong. Not so at all.

Satan is a liar and the father of lies.

The fact of the matter is that those holy people you admire a lot for their piety and resent a little for their religiosity fight the same battles you do. They encounter the same temptations, struggle with the same difficulties, and know the same doubts about prayer’s effectiveness.

You’re not so different.

You’re definitely not fighting battles in your walk with the Lord others have not faced, or more likely, are struggling with at this very moment.

In my yesterday’s reading, I came across reminders of this from two of the Christian faith’s heroes, Elisabeth Elliot and C. S. Lewis.

Those who know Elisabeth Elliot or remember her for her lifetime of ministry or through her books and radio programs would agree she is one of the all-time outstanding Christians of our time. She first came to the knowledge of the church in the United States because of the death of her husband, Jim Elliot, martyred by the Auca Indians in Ecuador in 1956. Later, after going as a missionary to those same tribes (along with other colleagues), she wrote the story that still stands as one of the best-loved missionary books: “Through Gates of Splendor.”

Elisabeth Elliot has the same trouble with praying you and I do.

“We keep asking the same unanswerable questions and wondering why the explanations are not forthcoming. We doubt God. We are anxious about everything when we have been told quite clearly to be anxious about nothing. Instead of stewing we are supposed to pray and give thanks.” (All quotes are from her book, “Trusting God in a Twisted World.”)

“When I stumble out of bed in the morning, put on a robe, and go into my study, words do not spring spontaneously to my lips–other than words like,’Lord, here I am again to talk to you. It’s cold. I’m not feeling terribly spiritual….’ Who can go on and on like that morning after morning, and who can bear to listen to it day after day?”

She continues, “I need help in order to worship God.”

You too, Elisabeth Elliot?

We all do.

In her case, Elliot turns to the Psalms and finds “nothing helps me more.” Sometimes she opens her hymnal and reads these offerings of praise to get her mind tuned to the things of God.

Her spirituality needs jump-starting in the morning. Just like yours, just like mine.

Elisabeth Elliot asks, “Do you know what to pray for people whom you haven’t heard in a long time? I don’t.” In those cases, she prays prayers found in Scripture, such as the one in Ephesians 3:17-18, “…that you, rooted and founded in love yourselves, may be able to grasp…how wide and long and deep and high is the love of Christ.”

And lest we fail to get the point, Elliot adds, “My own devotional life is very far from being Exhibit A of what it should be.”

I expect being humble–a sure sign of great spirituality–but that strictly speaking, she’s right for the simple reason that “we who are in this tent do groan” (II Corinthians 5:4). In this life, we will achieve perfection in not one single aspect of faith.

Perfection may always be the goal (Matthew 5:48 comes to mind), but it will never be attained until we see Him and become like He is.

That’s why it’s called faith; it is our response to The Living Christ in the midst of all the negative stimuli bombarding us day and night, much of it emanating from within our own souls.

Then there is C. S. Lewis.

Since the death of this English literature professor and brother-in-Christ on the very day of the assassination of President Kennedy, Lewis’ books on the Christian faith have continued ministering to every new crop of seeking minds on this planet at a constant pace. His influence shows no sign of waning.

Elisabeth Elliot, as does almost every other Christian writer, quotes Lewis. She calls him “C. S. Lewis, that wise man who seems to have thought through almost everything….”

Well, surely C. S. Lewis had it all worked out, this prayer business, right? He wrote so much on everything and his insights and conclusions are infused with such common sense and eureka moments that we read with awe and enjoyment. Certainly, he was one of the elite who do not struggle with doubt, but who glide effortlessly into prayer in the early morning hours and pray unfalteringly memorable prayers of faith that impress the Heavens and shake the world.

Here are snippets of what Lewis said about his praying.

In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis said however badly a good book on prayer is needed, “I shall never try to write it.” He added, “For me to offer the world instruction about prayer would be impudence.” (All quotes are from “C. S. Lewis, Mere Christian,” by Kathryn Ann Lindskoog. She points out that Lewis did indeed write that book on prayer, of course. In fact, he wrote several.)

“He noted wryly that the worse one prays, the longer it takes.”

“He found it much easier to pray for others than for himself.”

About lists of people to pray for: “Such a long list is burdensome; it makes it a little hard to think about each person while praying.”

“He felt it unnecessary to pray for people by name; one may have lost or never known the name of a person who needs one’s prayers. He figured God knows their names.”

It is possible that our highly respected friend, Mr. Lewis, even had the occasional error in his prayers. Lindskoog writes, “He emphatically believed in praying for the dead!” A couple of verses in the New Testament are given as his reasons (I Corinthians 15:20 and I Peter 3:19-20). My hunch is most of us would find those unconvincing, however, one of the myriad of things we admire about this man is he never demanded that readers agree with him.

I was glad to see that Lewis believed in praying about small, almost inconsequential matters. Lindskoog writes, “Prayers about trivial matters may be good practice, anyway. Lewis felt that high-minded religion tends to be a snare. ‘I fancy we may sometimes be deterred from small prayers by a sense of our own dignity rather than of God’s.'”

“Near the end of ‘Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer,’ Lewis said that he decided to come clean. He admitted that for most people prayer is a duty, and an irksome duty at that. He observed that we are reluctant to begin and delighted to finish.”

I expect most of us knew that, whether we admitted it to ourselves or not. One has to wonder if we have ever admitted it to God. Not that He doesn’t know, for He does. Genuine prayer requires a high degree of honesty.

That may be the reason C. S. Lewis often began his prayer time with what he called his “prelude to prayer.”

Concerned that his thoughts of himself and of God might be faulty and misleading, Lewis would pray, “May it be the real I who speaks. May it be the real Thou I speak to.”

Lindskoog comments, “Lewis didn’t want his false idea of himself speaking to a bright blur in his own mind.”

In Lewis’ “Footnote to All Prayers,” he implores the Lord to mercifully translate the false and inferior ideas in his prayers into something that would be acceptable to Himself.

He understands. So does she.

So does He.

“Therefore, let us understand, Father, that even though we come before Thee stumbling and muttering, it’s all right. Scripture promises the Spirit will help us in our weakness since we do not know how to pray as we should. Your servant, the Apostle Paul, said that. It helps somewhat to remember that even he had the same struggles as we.”

“So do not let the enemy convince us that we alone of all God’s children are poor pray-ers. We may be like infants just learning to speak, but we recall how much the tender Father loves those attempts.”

“Thank you, Father. You are gracious and loving and it is our honor to be Yours, to enter Thy presence, and to present our prayers. Amen.”