Is Your Prayer Too Big—or Is Your View of God Too Small?

By Pastor John Erickson

When you go into a job interview, somebody eventually asks about your strengths and weaknesses.

You list your strengths, try to describe your weaknesses in a way that doesn't sound too terrible, and hope you get the job.

In most workplaces, the goal is to put you in a position where you can use your strengths and minimize your weaknesses.

But reading the Bible, I notice that God often does something surprising. He takes people who are very aware of what they can't do and uses them anyway.

Moses wasn't exactly volunteering for a public speaking career. Yet God called him to stand before Pharaoh.

And in Joshua 9-10, we meet people who make a serious mistake, then discover that God isn't finished working through the situation.

A Decision They Should Have Prayed About

The Gibeonites knew Israel was coming. They'd heard what had happened to other cities, and they were afraid.

So they came up with a plan. They dressed in worn-out clothes, packed dried-out bread, and approached Joshua pretending to have traveled from a very distant land.

Their story was convincing enough. Israel made a treaty with them.

There's one line in Joshua 9:14 that jumps off the page: the Israelites did not inquire of the Lord.

That's the problem. They looked at the evidence, made a judgment, and acted. They trusted what was in front of them without seeking God's guidance.

Now, using our brains is not unspiritual. God made us capable of reasoning. But there are decisions where our confidence in our own assessment becomes the very thing that gets us into trouble.

Have you ever done that? You were sure you knew the whole story. You had enough information. You didn't need to slow down or ask anyone. Then you found out how much you had missed.

It is a temptation worth recognizing before we become certain our own judgment is enough.

Do the Right Thing After the Wrong Decision

Once Israel discovers the deception, they're in a difficult position. They made a commitment they now regret.

What happens next matters. The leaders decide to honor the oath rather than simply respond to their mistake by making another one.

Sometimes, when we're embarrassed by a bad decision, we try to get ourselves out of it however we can. We can become so focused on avoiding consequences that we compromise our integrity a second time.

Joshua's story challenges that impulse.

You may not be able to undo a bad decision, but you can choose how to respond to it. You can tell the truth. You can own your part. You can seek wisdom about what faithfulness looks like now.

That's not always the easiest path. In fact, it often costs us something.

But integrity matters even after we've made a mistake.

When I was a freshman in Bible college, we had to sign into the dorm by midnight. One night I was in a prayer meeting on our floor that continued into the early morning. When I walked past the sign-in board afterward, I realized I had forgotten.

The rule was to write the actual time, even if you had been in the building. I had not always been honest about that before. This time I wrote 2:30 a.m. and asked my resident adviser, Peter, if we could talk. I explained where I had been and hoped he would let it slide.

He did not. I could not afford the fine, so I ended up sweeping the stairs. I would love to tell you I floated through that assignment with perfect spiritual maturity. I was frustrated.

But I came to believe that accepting a consequence honestly was better than escaping it dishonestly. Later Peter told me that my response had impressed him. That small incident became part of a friendship that led to working together after college. He was one of the first people I called when I became the senior pastor of our church.

A forgotten signature was a very small thing. What I did next still mattered. It is a reminder I need when a mistake makes another shortcut look attractive.

God Can Work Through a Situation You Didn't Plan

Because Israel has made a treaty, they soon find themselves defending the Gibeonites against several kings who have formed an alliance.

Think about the irony. Israel's mistake puts them in a battle they didn't expect to fight.

And yet Joshua leads the people into that battle trusting the Lord's assurance that they will not be abandoned.

I don't think we should read this as a promise that every poor decision is secretly a shortcut to success. Some mistakes cause lasting harm, and the Bible takes that seriously.

But here's the hope: God's ability to work is not limited to the situations we managed perfectly.

He can meet us in the consequences. He can call us to faithful action there. He can bring good out of circumstances we would never have chosen.

We see that pattern throughout Scripture-not that wrongdoing is good, but that God's grace is greater than our ability to ruin everything.

Let God Do the Heavy Lifting

Joshua 10 describes an extraordinary battle. Israel marches through the night, and the text emphasizes that the Lord is the one fighting for his people.

There's even a detail about hailstones doing more damage to the enemy than Israel's own weapons.

I think of how often I try to carry responsibilities that belong to God.

I am a big guy with a truck, so I get asked to help people move. My instinct has usually been to carry as much as possible and get the job finished quickly. A dolly? Surely we can just pick it up.

As I have gotten older, the dolly has begun to look like a much better idea. So has letting a younger person carry something heavy without treating it as a personal defeat. Apparently, willingness and wisdom are not always the same thing.

Spiritually, we can do that. We act as though the whole outcome rests on our shoulders.

But our job is to be faithful with what God has given us to do. We don't control everything. We were never supposed to.

Dare to Ask an Honest, Big Prayer

Then comes the famous moment in Joshua 10: Joshua asks for the sun to stand still.

It's an enormous request. A prayer so far beyond what a person could accomplish that it's almost startling to read.

This is a unique event in the biblical story, not a technique we can reproduce on command. Still, it makes me wonder whether I've become far too cautious about bringing my deepest longings to God.

Sometimes I won't pray about a situation because I've already decided it's impossible. Or because I can't imagine how God could respond. Or perhaps because I'm afraid of being disappointed.

What would happen if I brought the request to him anyway, with humility and trust?

Not telling God how he has to answer. Not demanding the particular outcome I want. Just asking.

What feels impossible in your life? A relationship you long to see healed? A person you want to see come to faith? A burden in your family or community that seems too large for anyone to carry?

Bring it to the Lord.

Seek his will. Do the next faithful thing. And let God be God.

The measure of our faith isn't how impressive our prayer sounds. It's the trust we place in the one we're speaking to.