When we have such a relationship, prayer simply cannot be a trite formality, it is honest conversation about the things that matter the most to us. Above all, the conversation must be honest, or it isn’t real friendship after all. Suppose there’s a Brother Jones working near you who is irritating you to death and that night you kneel and say, “Oh Lord, do bless Brother Jones. Thou knowest how I love him.” If you listen closely you might hear God say, “That’s very sweet. But, why don’t you tell me the truth? You hate the ground he walks on. And if you would only just admit it, maybe I could begin to help you. But so long as you pretend, there is not much I can do.”

When King David was depressed, he said so:

Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love for ever [sic] ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? . . . And I say, “It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed” (Psa 77:7-10, RSV).

David said that to God in prayer. Of course, that is only the first half of the psalm. You will find at the end of the seventy-seventh Psalm how David resolved his depression (Psa 77:11-20). But if David wanted vengeance, he wouldn’t say, “Lord, thou knowest how I love Brother Isaac and I hope his crops will flourish this year,” when really David wished that the blood of Brother Isaac would flow down the street and would water the furrows of his field and the locusts would consume his crops! So David would kneel and say something like, “Lord, thou knowest my thoughts anyway, so why should I pretend?” Based on Psalm 139:1-12. Then he would continue:

O that thou wouldst slay the wicked, O God. . . . Do I not hate them that hate thee, O Lord? And do I not loathe them that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting (Psalm 139:19, 21-24, RSV).

In this passage David invited healing. He knew he needed a new heart and a right spirit, truth in the inner man. So first he presented himself honestly to God. He said, “You know all my thoughts anyway. So, why should I hide? You know how I feel. So search me and may my thoughts and the meditations and the words of my mouth be acceptable to you.”

If you should watch a loved one die, and you should cry, “Why God? Why?” would God be offended? Or would the God you know reach down and put an arm around your shoulder and say, “I understand how you feel. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel that way. Someday I’ll make it plain to you. I wish I could right now. But please trust Me, and trust Me enough to be willing to wait.” But, you see, we have to know God well before those emergencies arise, so that we can trust Him and pray to Him like this.

Paul assures us that the Holy Spirit will help us pray: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought. . . .” Rom 8:26, RSV. And so the Holy Spirit brings the truth about God to us. He helps us to see that truth and to be convinced about it. He helps us see the truth about ourselves, and learn how to tell that truth to our gracious heavenly Father. And then God can do good things for us. Paul even said we should pray without ceasing: “Never stop praying.” 1 Thess 5:17, Norlie. Or as Goodspeed translates it: “Never give up praying.” But if we should spend all our time on our knees, we would never get anything else done. So how can one pray without ceasing and still be effective in this life? To put it simply, prayer in its very essence is thinking toward God. It means that God is at the very center of our thoughts. Eventually it becomes a habit that God should be at the very center of all our plans, always.

When we see God face to face one day, will that be the end of prayer? Could prayer be yet another of the emergency measures that keep the channels of communication open between God and His children, until the time comes when there will be no need for emergency measures anymore? What do we mean when we sing, “Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer?” Do we mean “Farewell, farewell, I will never talk to you again, God?” No, if prayer is conversation with a friend, then when we meet God face to face, the hour of prayer will have just begun.

Is it all right to ask questions of our God? Job certainly did. He boldly, reverently, agonized with God—to the consternation of his friends. They worried that God would smite Job down for daring to talk to the Father like this. In a way, the whole book of Job is on this subject. Note what Job says in the following excerpts:

If only my life could once again be as it was when God watched over me. God was always with me then. . . . And the friendship of God protected my home. . . . I call to you, O God, but you never answer; and when I pray, you pay no attention (Job 29:2-4; 30:20, GNB).

How that worried Job’s friends! But was God offended? No, to the contrary. God later said to the three friends, “You did not speak the truth about me, the way my servant Job did” (Job 42:7, GNB). You see, Job knew God and he honored God with those cries. But God was not talking to him just then. And Job was deeply upset, because their friendship seemed to be at an end. So what upset Job’s friends actually complimented God, and spoke well of their relationship.

Surely there are serious questions we also could ask about God. Think of the accidents that happen, sometimes to the best people among us. Did that person’s guardian angels relax their protection? Serious questions about God often arise when people are dying or seriously ill. Why is it that God sometimes does not heal his trusting friends, even though we ask Him to? I believe that God, as we know Him, might well say to us, “Trust Me. I can’t explain it to you just now. I hope that you will trust Me enough to wait for the day when I can make it plain to you. I hope you have found enough evidence and enough reason for trusting Me that much. Besides, you know I would never allow you to be tried and tested more than you are able to bear.” Paul expressed this clearly later on: “God can be depended on not to let you be tried beyond your strength” (1 Cor 10:13, Goodspeed). Or as he said in Romans: “We know that in all things God works for good with those who love him. . . .” Rom 8:28, GNB.

If we trusted God enough to really listen, then, we might hear God provoke the questions Himself. Think about how God provoked His friend Abraham as He was on His way down to Sodom and Gomorrah to consume those cities. He said, “I wouldn’t do this without first telling My friend, Abraham.” In response Abraham dared to reason with his God: “Then Abraham drew near, and said, ‘Wilt thou indeed destroy the righteous with the wicked? . . . Far be that from thee! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?’” Gen 18:23, 25, RSV. Have you ever dared to say something like that to God? Was God offended by what Abraham said? No, “Abraham was called God’s friend” (Jam 2:23, GNB).

And that’s just one of the places in the Bible where God is addressed in such a way. You may remember how God spoke to Moses, another of His friends. He essentially said, “I am sick and tired of these people [the Israelites]. Step aside and let me destroy them” (based on Exod 32:9-10). But look at how Moses responds to God:

Then the Egyptians will hear of it. . . . The nations who have heard thy fame will say, “Because the Lord was not able to bring this people into the land which he swore to give to them, therefore he has slain them in the wilderness” (Num 14:13, 15-16, RSV).

In this passage Moses showed his jealousy for God’s reputation. Was God offended by this? No, “The Lord would speak with Moses face-to-face, just as a man speaks with a friend” (Exod 33:11, GNB). Now, one would need to know God very well to talk to God like this. And surely Moses and Abraham knew God well. You recall how even Peter once dared to say “No” to God. In fact, he did it three times in his vision of the unclean animals (Acts 10:5-16). “There came a voice to him, `Rise, Peter; kill and eat.’ But Peter said, `No, Lord’” (Acts 10:13-14, RSV). Did God rebuke Peter for doing that? No, this is the kind of relationship that God desires to have with us, His children.

Conversation means at least two people speaking. But how do we converse with God when we can’t see Him because of the present emergency? In this emergency situation, He does not reveal Himself visibly to us, for our sakes. This is why the Bible is called the Word of God—it is God speaking to us. If we wish to hear God speak, except in extraordinary circumstances, He speaks to us through the Bible. We speak to Him in prayer. Truly, as someone has said, “We commune with God through the study of the Scriptures.”

I certainly find prayer much more meaningful while reading the Bible. Have you ever had the experience of talking to God while reading certain parts of the Scriptures? I often find myself saying out loud, “That’s magnificent!” Who am I talking to at that moment? That’s real conversation. We read and we listen in that way. And then we talk back to God.

Going back to the imaginary fellowship room, our heavenly Father waits and we begin to speak. What language should we use? Should we look at our heavenly Father respectfully and say, “We prithee Lord that Thou wouldst bestow unctions upon us from on high?” I think He would smile sweetly and say, “Please relax, you can talk a little more plainly if you wish.” Unless of course, you are used to talking that way all the time. But did the disciples talk to God that way? Did Moses? Did Abraham? No, they all used up to date, everyday speech. They wanted to be clear. It was the language of their times.

I believe if we began to speak to God in that fellowship room, we would surely be reverent, yet we would be conversing with a friend and should use the kind of language we would use with our closest friends. Just what that should be is a personal preference. But surely we would use the best possible language to clarify our convictions, our feelings, our desires, our admirations, and our worship. The important thing is to converse with our heavenly Father as with a friend.

So what language would you use? Jesus addressed His Father as “Abba, Father” (Mark 14:36). Abba is the Aramaic word for “father.” So it is almost like saying, “Father, Father,” although it is a term of endearment. Some versions translate “Abba, Father” as “Dear Father,” the way some of us like to start our prayers. Paul urges us to do the same in Romans (8:15) and Galatians (4:6). He says that when the Spirit of Truth dwells within us, we will address the Father as “Dear Father.”

But most importantly, what would you talk about? Would you take time on such a precious occasion to say, “Thank you, God, for today’s groceries and here is my list for tomorrow, amen,” and then go on about your business? Or would you say, “Bless the missionaries as they carry the truth to the far-flung corners of the earth”? The Lord might say, “How sweet. How is it that you only think of these things when you are praying?” Of course, if you are the mother of a missionary, it would be appropriate for you to talk to God about your loved ones. But if we only think about missionaries when we talk to God, why do we talk about them and not the things we have really been thinking about all day?

You see, those well-worn phrases we think we ought to use when we pray, might seem rather empty when we are talking face to face with God. Suppose one of us left the meeting and walked with God through a garden nearby, wouldn’t it be natural to comment to God about the beauty and fragrance of a rose, and the beautiful sounds of the mockingbird? Or the lovely, lonely sound of the mourning dove? Couldn’t we tell Him how beautiful it was of Him to create things that way? Or would we simply say, “We thank thee, Lord, for the beauties of nature that surround us?” We do have such well-worn phrases to cover these things. It seems to me that if God really were our Friend, we would take time to talk about these everyday things, and to be as specific about them as we would be with other members of the family. We might even venture to ask Him about the thorns on a rose. “Did you put them there? If so, why?”