Always Heard
A Reflection on Luke 11:5-13
Have you ever felt like your prayers were going unheard?
Like maybe God was too busy with bigger problems, or perhaps you'd already used
up your quota of divine attention for the week? If so, you're in good company.
The disciples themselves must have wondered if a prayer that takes barely two
minutes could really get through to the Almighty. But in Luke 11:5-13, Jesus
pulls back the curtain on something extraordinary, not so much a lesson about
prayer technique, but a revelation about who our Father actually is.
Jesus tells two stories that seem strange at first. In one, a man pounds on his
neighbor's door at midnight, desperately needing bread for an unexpected guest.
The neighbor grumbles about his sleeping children and locked doors but
eventually gets up. In the other, Jesus asks the unthinkable: what father would
hand his hungry son a snake instead of a fish, or a scorpion instead of an egg?
The shocking part isn't that these things could happen, it's that we
instinctively know they shouldn't. And that's precisely the point. God isn't
like the reluctant neighbor who needs to be worn down by our persistence. He
isn't like the cruel father who plays tricks on his children. The contrast is
everything. Our Heavenly Father is always awake, always attentive, always
desiring our good.
What makes prayer possible, then, isn't our eloquence or our persistence, it's
His nature. The Catholic tradition has always understood that prayer is
fundamentally about relationship, not transaction. When we pray the Rosary,
we're not trying to accumulate enough Hail Marys to twist God's arm. When we
light a candle before the Blessed Sacrament, we're not bribing Him with wax and
flame. We're responding to a Father who is already leaning toward us, already
listening, already loving. The Catechism reminds us that God thirsts for us to
thirst for Him. Prayer isn't us trying to get God's attention, it's us finally
paying attention to the God who never looks away.
This changes everything about how we approach prayer. We don't need to wait for
the perfect moment or the perfect words. We don't need to feel holy enough or
sorted enough or worthy enough. The door is always open because the Father is
always home. You can whisper a prayer while waiting in traffic or standing on
the grocery line. You can cry out to Him in the middle of the night when
anxiety won't let you sleep. You can bring Him your doubts, your anger, your
confusion, not because He needs the information, but because He invites the
intimacy. Saint Thérèse of Lisieux once said that for her, prayer was simply
raising her heart to God, a simple glance toward heaven. It doesn't have to be
complicated because He is always reachable.
The gift Jesus promises in today’s gospel is the Holy Spirit, and with the
Spirit comes everything we truly need. Not necessarily everything we want, but
wisdom when we're confused, peace when we're anxious, strength when we're weak,
hope when we're despairing. Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes it's wait.
Sometimes it's no, because He sees what we cannot see and loves us too much to
give us what would ultimately harm us. But the answer is always given by a
Father who is both reachable and honorable, who never sleeps, never tires of
us, and never stops working all things together for our good. So today, right
now, bring Him whatever is on your heart. He's been waiting for you.
©2025 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
