I thought index cards would solve everything. I’d been limping along in my prayer life, but I wanted to run strong and swift like George Müller and other saints renowned for their dependence on God. A common suggestion is to incorporate various techniques or systems like writing names and prayer points on index cards, using the PrayerMate app, or praying through The Valley of Vision. When I visited my parents’ house and saw a long plastic box with all my dad’s prayer cards, I thought this might be just what I needed. While my new system does help me be more organized and varied in my petitions, it hasn’t turned me into an Olympic runner in prayer. My best training came instead from an unexpected source. A few years ago, issues in my church left me feeling deeply discouraged and helpless. Things were changing around me—nothing, it seemed, for the better—and I couldn’t fix it. At times, I suppressed tears throughout most of the service. Those who’ve been in the pit of discouragement and church hurt won’t be surprised to hear that this season made a bigger difference to my prayer life than index cards ever could. I was desperate; all I could do was cry out to God, asking him to work in a situation I couldn’t fix. To overcome sluggishness in prayer, you don’t need another technique. You need a heart of humble dependence. Why Techniques Appeal Part of the reason we default so quickly to techniques and systems is that it’s the spirit of the age. Our culture valorizes constant improvement and optimization. Advertisers sell us the lie that there’s an app or product to fix every problem (or minor inconvenience). Buzzfeed collates endless lists of life hacks and game-changing advice. It’s natural for us to see a problem—“I don’t pray enough”—and seek an actionable solution. We want to fix it ourselves. To overcome sluggishness in prayer, you don’t need another technique. You need a heart of humble dependence. But we’re missing the core issue. We neglect prayer not because we don’t have the ideal system in place but because we don’t really feel like we need it. Ever since the garden of Eden, humanity has tried to make our own way without relying on God. During King Hezekiah’s reign, Judah formed an alliance with Egypt instead of seeking God’s help against the Assyrian threat (Isa. 30:1–2). In the New Testament, Peter relied on his own strength and love to stay faithful to Jesus—and then denied him (Luke 22:33–34, 39–40). Our culture encourages self-reliance, but it’s been a perennial problem in all ages. Thomas Charles, an 18th-century Welsh pastor, laments how many Christians live as “practical atheists.” We profess to trust the Lord but lack a felt need for him: Are we not living . . . without God in the world? Where are they who are practically sensible, that, without continued influences and aids from above, we have, the best of us, wisdom for no work, strength for no duty, success under no trial, and victory over no enemy? When I don’t pray as I face decisions, it’s because I think I can make a good choice based on my wisdom, the information I’ve gathered, and the counsel of friends. When I don’t pray for help against a particular temptation, it’s because I think I’ll be strong enough next time to say no. Amid my church difficulties, I could finally see what had been true all along: I’m not in control. The Lord was making me, in Charles’s words, “practically sensible” of my need. Heart of Prayer God’s Word is clear that a humble heart is essential to coming before God’s throne of grace. As H. B. Charles Jr. points out, Scripture says far more about the motivation for prayer than methodologies for prayer. Prayer, he says, is a “declaration of dependence.” We often look to the Lord’s Prayer as a template for the kinds of petitions we should make to God. It is that, but Jesus teaches us a heart posture as much as a form of prayer: to approach God as “our Father,” to humble ourselves before the One who is “in heaven,” to seek his kingdom before our own concerns, to ask for daily bread instead of trying to obtain it by our toil (Matt. 6:9–13). Jesus also encourages us to imitate the persistent widow (Luke 18:1–8). What kept her coming repeatedly to the judge for help was that she was desperate. She knew she was powerless to resolve the situation on her own, and she knew who did have the power. Jesus wants us to come to our Father with this kind of desperate dependence because we know his character. We can humble ourselves under God’s hand and bring our anxieties to him who cares for us (1 Pet. 5:7). Suffer and Study The trouble, we may think, is that we can’t simply conjure a more dependent heart with a checklist titled “Cultivate Humility in 5 Easy Steps.” But is this really a problem, or is it the whole point? If we want to grow in humility, we must rely on God to transform us. So begin with prayer: “Lord, I know I don’t pray as I ought. Forgive me and teach me to depend on you.” Scripture says far more about the motivation for prayer than methodologies for prayer. God’s answer to this prayer for humility may be painful. He often uses suffering to strip us of self-sufficiency or any other recourse. Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth often says, “Anything that makes me need God is a blessing.” The joy of being carefree and self-reliant cannot be compared to the joy of nearness to Christ. If we’re to rely on God constantly, we need to know him intimately. This takes repeated study of and meditation on Scripture—day after day, year after year. Through the Bible, gaze at God’s holiness (Isa. 6). Recount all he’s done to care for his people throughout history (Ps. 136). Marvel at Christ, who is both able and willing to save (Matt. 8:1–3). Train your eyes to see in creation the evidence of your Father’s constant care (6:25–34). Index cards and other techniques have some value. So make plans, set up a system for regular intercessory prayer, dip into the riches of church history, and keep your missionary updates handy. But don’t neglect cultivating a heart that recognizes how much we need prayer—how much we need God.