Do you ever find yourself adding extra pressure to yourself as you go about your day? Do you have unrealistic expectations about how you should respond to any given situation?

I do this often, in all different types of situations: at the gym, work, in relationships and even with God. Though I know He is a God of grace, love, mercy and that He doesn’t want my performance, I still have a deep-rooted desire to put on the best show possible. I think I can muscle or will-power my way into doing what He’s called me to do and sometimes even more than He’s called me to do.

So, as you might imagine, verses such as 1 Thessalonians 5:17 that instructs us to pray at all times is one I’ve often seen as a challenge. It’s like Paul is daring me to try and pray continually, without stopping. “Sarah, I bet you can’t last even half an hour, let alone all day,” sometimes I hear a voice whisper in my ear.

I find myself making excuses for me not living up to my unrealistic expectations. “I have things to do and a life to live, so I can’t just sit around all day like a monk and be in contemplative prayer,” I respond to the voice. “The way my bills are set up, I can’t just forgo everything so I can lock myself away to focus on nothing but prayer.”

But, I’m learning that the voice is wrong.

The verse instructing us to pray at all times is in the Bible, which means that’s full of wisdom, grace and truth. I’ve just been interpreting it incorrectly. This verse is something Paul learned to do during his time of ministry and is instructing the Thessalonians that they should do the same. He encouraged them to make their lives known by their commitment to prayer.

Paul didn’t preach one thing and live another, he strove to live out what he preached. So that means that during his busy speaking schedule, his side-hustles to fund his missionary journeys, the frequent shipwrecks, and random stints in jail, he learned that every action should be infused with prayer. Paul didn’t live a monastic life where he solely prayed all day. So, if he didn’t live as a monk, he must have prayed as he went. He prayed as he worked. He prayed as he loved. He prayed as he lived.

When I view this verse through that particular lens, it becomes much more attainable to me. I no longer feel this unnecessary pressure to become a monk (or whatever the female equivalent is)—I just have to be like Paul.

This means that, in addition to my quiet time, I can infuse my actions and decisions with prayer. I can pray as I wander around Target, drive to work or do laundry. I can pray while meeting a friend for coffee or while listening during a business meeting. Prayer can be part of my cooking dinner or exercise routine. Prayer doesn’t necessarily mean everything else stops (though there is immense value in stopping to just focus on prayer), but can be an intentional decision and heart-posture to take while we live our lives.

Realizing that Paul himself wasn’t a monk who lived in a prayer closet, but was a man who had a rich and busy life helps me take the pressure off myself. This revelation helps me silence that voice of perfectionism that says that I’m not living this verse out correctly. I can choose to let prayer fill and fuel my steps throughout the day instead of seeing prayer as an entirely separate exercise. I can give myself grace, knowing that prayer is an ongoing dialogue throughout my day with a God who is with me.

By focusing on Truth, I am more inclined to run to God throughout my day, instead of striving to meet my unrealistic standards. And for that, I am immensely grateful.

Reframing Praying at All Times