Chapter Three: The Depths—Even for the Unlearned

A way of prayer for all who long to belong

Let me speak gently now—especially to the ones who feel left behind.

You may believe that this depth, this closeness with God, is reserved for the spiritually advanced. The well-read. The eloquent. The ones who seem to have it all figured out.

But what if the very ones the world overlooks are the ones most ready to know God deeply?

If reading feels hard for you, or formal prayers feel foreign, or your thoughts stumble as you try to find the “right words”—you are not disqualified.

You are, in fact, beautifully suited for this way of prayer.

Because the truth is: you do not need books to love.
You do not need knowledge to belong.
You do not need eloquence to be received.

What you need is already within you.
And what you seek is closer than your breath.

Prayer can become your reading

Jesus Christ is the Word. Not just in concept—but in presence.
You can read Him.

You can come to Him without needing to master language or theology.
You can find Him in silence, in longing, in breath.
You can hold Him in your heart like a child holds the hand of a loving parent.

The truest prayers are not memorized. They are lived.

So come as you are. Come with what you have.
Come as the child who has fallen and is bruised, muddy, tired, and reaching.
Come to the Father who runs to meet you.

Let prayer be your language. Let love be your offering.

The Kingdom is within you

There is no need to look outward. The Kingdom of God is not something to chase. It is not hidden in distant rituals or elite knowledge. It is already within you. It has been there all along.

So when you pray, close your eyes—not in fear, but in faith.
Turn inward, not toward your thoughts, but toward your spirit.
Let your inner gaze find God in the hidden sanctuary where He already dwells.

Believe—truly believe—that God lives in you.
And let that belief become the doorway to holy presence.

Praying the Lord’s Prayer, Slowly

If words feel hard to find, return to the prayer Jesus gave us. But let it be slow. Let it be tender. Let each word settle like dew on the soil of your heart.

Begin simply, whispering, “Father…”

Stay there. Linger.
Let the weight and wonder of that word hold you.

You are not reciting. You are remembering.

You are not repeating. You are returning.

Let your soul speak back with the honesty of a child:
“You are my Father. I am yours. I have nothing to offer but myself.”

If you sense stillness come, don’t move forward.
Let silence do the praying for you.
When the stillness lifts, continue.
“Your kingdom come…”

And let it come. In you. Through you.
Let your defenses fall. Let God reign where fear used to sit.
Let His will unfold in the small corners of your life.

This is not about getting through the prayer.
It’s about letting the prayer get through you.

Other Ways to Begin

There may come a time when you are drawn not to words, but to presence. That’s good. Let your prayer shift. Maybe instead of the Lord’s Prayer, you come to God as your Shepherd.

Whisper, “You feed me with yourself. You are my daily bread.”

Or perhaps you come as one needing healing. Come to Him as your Physician.

Tell Him the truth:
“I am weary. I am wounded. I need You.”

And then… wait.

Not anxiously. Not performing. Just stay.

Let silence rise like a tide. Let the stillness spread.
Don’t force it. Don’t judge it. Just remain.

In time, you’ll begin to love that silence—not because it’s empty, but because it’s full. Full of Him.

Lay Down the Rituals

You do not need to impress God.

You do not need to recite the perfect lines.

You do not need to understand everything to be changed.

If you’ve been taught that prayer must be polished or perfect, let that go. Prayer is not a ritual. It is a relationship. Let go of performance. Let go of pressure.

Come with open hands and a soft heart.

Let His presence speak more than your words ever could.

You don’t need to imagine God. Just believe He is near.

You don’t need to picture Him.
You don’t need to visualize His face or His posture.
You only need to believe He is here. Within. Beside. Holding you.

Turn your heart inward—not to your own emotions, but to the quiet flame that never goes out. He is there.

The Holy of Holies is not a distant place. It is your own spirit.
It is the space where He waits.

What begins simply… deepens.

This way of prayer is small and ordinary at first. But like roots beneath the soil, it begins to stretch and settle. With each return, it deepens.

One day, you’ll realize that you’re no longer “trying to pray.”
You’re just with Him.

You’ll find that your words are fewer, and your love is greater.

You’ll sense that His presence doesn’t come and go—it simply is.

And you’ll no longer measure prayer by effort, but by presence.

So begin simply. Begin quietly.
Begin now.