Father, as I sit to write tonight, my heart feels tender in a way I can’t fully explain. I’ve been lingering on Acts 12:5 all day: “So Peter was being kept in the prison, but the congregation was intensely praying to God for him.” There’s something so beautiful about the way the early believers united—not in panic, not in despair, but in prayer. Intense, expectant, hopeful prayer. It makes me examine the focus of my own prayer life, and honestly, Lord, I feel a gentle conviction rising in me. I see how easily I slip into bringing You my concerns first, my needs, my anxieties, my dreams. And yes, You say to cast all my cares on You (1 Peter 5:7), but I also hear You asking me to widen my gaze.
Today You asked me, “Do you pray more for yourself than for others?” And my heart whispered, “Yes… sometimes.” Not always, but more often than I want to admit. There are days I rush to pray about my job, my relationships, my future, my uncertainties—sometimes without pausing to lift up the people around me who may be carrying far heavier burdens. And then I think about Peter in that prison, and how the church didn’t stop to think about themselves—they united for him. They prayed him into freedom. They prayed with passion because they believed prayer mattered. They believed prayer moved Heaven. I want to pray like that—for others—consistently and with deep compassion.
Lord, I’m realizing that praying for others requires a softness of heart that only Your Spirit can produce. It means noticing people. It means slowing down long enough to actually see their need. It means letting my heart be moved by the pain, hopes, and longings of those around me. When Paul wrote, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2), he wasn’t offering a polite suggestion—he was laying out part of the structure of Christian community. True love isn’t passive. True love kneels. True love intercedes. True love remembers the suffering of others even when our own lives feel heavy. Lord, shape my heart into one that loves like that.
I’ve also been thinking about all the different people Scripture tells us to pray for. “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession, and thanksgiving be made for all people— for kings and all those in authority…” (1 Timothy 2:1–2). Sometimes praying for leaders feels distant, or impersonal, or honestly… a little pointless. But Your Word says it matters. Praying for the unsaved matters. Praying for ministers of the gospel matters. Praying for the persecuted church—who right now may be sitting in prisons, like Peter once did—matters deeply. You move through intercession. You knit hearts together through intercession. You break spiritual chains through intercession. And You grow us spiritually through intercession because it pulls us out of the center of our own universe and places You there instead.
Lord, one of my greatest weaknesses is that sometimes my prayers become lists rather than conversations. I never want my relationship with You to be mechanical. I never want to treat You like a dispenser of blessings. I want to love You more than what You can give me. I want my prayers to reflect trust, surrender, and compassion—not spiritual consumerism. When I pray only for myself, my world becomes small. But when I pray for others, my world expands, because I begin to see people the way You do. Their names take on weight. Their struggles become personal. Their victories feel like my own. In praying for them, I step into their stories, and in doing that, I step closer to You, because You are always near the brokenhearted.
I think of Jesus praying for others—how He prayed for His disciples, how He prayed for all believers that would come after them (John 17), how He prayed for forgiveness for the ones crucifying Him. If the Son of God Himself prayed so earnestly for others, shouldn’t I follow that example? It humbles me, Lord. It reshapes my view of prayer entirely. Prayer isn’t just about my life being changed; it’s about Your kingdom being revealed in the lives of others. It’s about standing in the gap for someone else when they are too weary to stand on their own. It’s about being willing to be inconvenienced in my heart for the sake of loving someone the way You ask me to.
Today, You placed specific people on my heart. A friend who is struggling silently. A family member who is drifting spiritually. A coworker who seems happy but carries deep insecurity. A young woman at church who is growing in faith but feels spiritually attacked. These people matter to You more than I can comprehend. Lord, let me be faithful to lift them up. Let me pray for them the way the early church prayed for Peter—with intensity, with unity in Spirit, with unwavering trust that You hear. Let my prayers be fueled not by duty but by genuine love.
Father, I don’t want to be someone whose prayers revolve around my own world. I want to grow into someone who instinctively lifts others up, who intercedes with joy, who sees intercession as partnership with You rather than a task on a spiritual checklist. I want to be someone who looks at the brokenness of the world and responds—not with complaint or hopelessness—but with prayer. Because prayer acknowledges that You are still working. Prayer acknowledges that nothing is impossible with You. Prayer acknowledges that You care for every need—no matter how big or small.
And now, Lord, I want to pray:
Heavenly Father, soften my heart and widen my perspective. Teach me to pray for others with sincerity and perseverance. Help me see the people around me—really see them—and lift them before Your throne. Let my prayers be shaped by Your will, guided by Your Word, and filled with compassion. Deliver me from self-centeredness in prayer. Make me an intercessor, not for my glory, but so that Your love may flow through me. Help me to obey the command to pray for all people, for leaders, for the lost, for the church, and for those who suffer for Your name. Give me a heart that kneels before it speaks, a heart that carries others’ burdens with tenderness. Lord, help me to grow spiritually through praying for others, and in all things, make me more like Jesus. Amen.
As I close this entry, my heart feels lighter, but also more aware. I see now that one of the surest ways to grow spiritually is to make prayer less about me and more about others. When I shift my focus outward—when I intercede, when I cry out for someone else’s freedom, healing, salvation, or comfort—something in me transforms. I become less self-absorbed. I become more compassionate. I become more aligned with Your heart. And Lord, that is what I long for more than anything—to have a heart that reflects Yours.
Help me, Jesus, to live this out—not just tonight, but day after day. Help me to love others deeply, pray for them boldly, and trust You completely. Amen.
The Christian Tech-Nerd 