When Jesus taught His disciples how to pray, He began with two simple words: “Our Father.” Before we ask for daily bread, forgiveness, or protection—before we say anything else—Jesus tells us to remember who we’re talking to. And the word “Father” is key. He could have instructed us to pray, “My King,” or “Almighty Judge,” or even “Our Creator,” and any of those titles would be accurate. But instead, He invites us to call Him “Father.” In other words, Jesus says, “Just talk to God like you’re talking to your dad.”

I have a friend who begins his prayers with, “Hey God, it’s me, Scott.” I was caught off guard when I first heard him pray that way, because it was much more informal than I was used to, but I have to admit that the more I hear Scott pray with such ease, the more I like it. It’s so personal. 

One of the great challenges of prayer is being yourself. We all feel pressure to sound “spiritual” when we pray—like we have to use the right words or the perfect tone to get God’s attention. Sometimes, instead of talking to God honestly, we end up performing. We say what we think we’re supposed to say, rather than what’s really on our hearts.

Prayer doesn’t have to be fancy or formal; it’s just a conversation with your dad. And your heavenly Father knows who you really are. He’s not caught off guard by your doubts, struggles, tears, shame, questions, or emotions. He invites you to bring your whole self to Him, mess and all.

When children fall and hurt themselves, they don’t hesitate; they run and jump straight into their parents’ arms. Why should we act differently with God? As we get older, we become the caregivers, and we’re not as comfortable being cared for, but our heavenly Father wants us to run to Him with every bruise and scrape life gives us. My grandson, Lenyx, loves anything with a horn. Almost every day, he will look at me and say, “beep beep,” and we both know what that means—we’re going for a ride in the truck or the golf cart. One time, I took him to an empty parking lot so he could honk to his heart’s content, and multiple police officers pulled up around our vehicle shortly after, saying they had gotten a call that someone was in distress. Oops! He just really loves honking. One day, my daughter pulled into the driveway as I was about to leave. I was already running behind for an important meeting, but she said, “Dad, he’s been crying for Papa and asking to ‘beep beep!’” Seeing Lenyx’s tears, I had no choice—I texted the folks in the meeting to say I would be late because my grandson needed his papa. Minutes later, we were cruising in the golf cart, wind blowing in our hair. The tears were gone, there were laughs and smiles, and both of us were shouting out, “Beep beep!” I think that’s how God feels about us. 

Father Wounds

Of course, we don’t all have the same experience of fathers—for many of us, the word brings a mix of emotions. Nearly one in four children in America live without a dad in their household, and even among those who do have a father at home, many feel unseen or unloved. Maybe your dad let you down. Perhaps you longed for connection but never found it. Maybe you were wounded by broken promises or painful words. For all these reasons, it can be challenging to not think of pain from the past when Jesus teaches us to begin with “Our Father.”

I once read a story about a 12-year-old girl named Cynthia. Her father was speaking at a conference in San Francisco, and the two of them had planned a special night out together after his final session. They had planned every detail: Cynthia would listen to the end of her dad’s talk and meet him at the back of the room before the crowd surrounded him, then they’d ride the trolley to Chinatown, eat their favorite Chinese food, shop for souvenirs, see the sights, and catch a movie. Back at the hotel, they’d sneak in a quick swim, order hot fudge sundaes from room service, and stay up late watching TV together. They had talked about their plans for weeks—the anticipation was half the fun.

She arrived at the end of his last session, and everything was going according to plan until they ran into her dad’s old college friend and business associate. Cynthia watched as they embraced enthusiastically. The friend said, “I am so glad you are doing some work with our company now,” and invited the dad and Cynthia to a seafood dinner at the Wharf. Her dad responded to his friend, “Bob, it’s so great to see you. Dinner at the Wharf sounds great!” Cynthia was crushed. She hated seafood, and she wanted to stick to their perfect plan. She could just imagine how boring it would be listening to the adults talk all night. But then her father winked at her and said, “But not tonight. Cynthia and I have a special date planned, don’t we?” He grabbed her hand, and they ran out the door and had an unforgettable night in San Francisco. 

Maybe it’s because I grew up as a pastor’s kid who always had to share my dad with other people, but Cynthia’s story moves me. It’s the perfect picture of our heavenly Father wanting to spend time with us—a Father who listens when we speak and moves when we pray. Over the years, I’ve prioritized outings like these with my children and grandchildren. It’s hard to imagine that our heavenly Father could love us even more than I love them, but He does. He is always present and attentive, He never tires of our voice, and He chooses us every time.

I can imagine that Cynthia’s story brings up a lot of pain for some. You may have had a dad who didn’t make time for you, or you may not have had a father at all. That can make it hard to trust your heavenly Father. But Psalm 68:5 says that God is “a father to the fatherless.” That means even if you didn’t grow up with a strong example of a father’s love or leadership, you are not left without one. God steps into that role—not just as a distant authority figure, but as a trustworthy Father who knows you better than anyone and loves you more than you can imagine. Approaching God as your Father may take time, but as you pray, allow the Holy Spirit to help you trust that He loves you, and even better, He likes you. 

You’re Not Alone

It’s worth noting that Jesus instructed us to pray “our Father,” not “my Father.” There’s a big difference. The Christian life is not only a private relationship between you and God. Yes, we talk a lot about personal time with God—namely reading the Bible and praying—but your relationship with God was never meant to be exclusively private. When you pray “our Father,” you’re joining saints and sinners who have been praying the same words for 2,000 years in every language. You’re part of something much bigger than yourself. You’re part of God’s family, with countless brothers and sisters—some across the street, and some across the ocean. That means when you struggle to pray, you’re not the only one. 

So this is where we begin: “Our Father.” Don’t rush past these words. Sit with them. Let them re-center your heart. Think about your brothers and sisters all over the world, praying just like you. 

It might help to start simply: “Hey God, it’s me, ______.” Don’t overthink it. Be honest, and be yourself. There’s no perfect tone or spiritual vocabulary that impresses Him. You don’t have to sound holy to be heard. You just have to be His child—and you already are. Before you ever prayed a single word, He saw you standing in the back of the room, like Cynthia, and was excited to spend time with you. 

Practice:

Take a few moments to pray, and concentrate on speaking to God like you would speak to someone you’re really comfortable with. Use phrasing that sounds normal and is totally honest.

Prayer:

Father, I don’t have to pretend with You. Heal any places in my heart where I’ve misunderstood what a father is. Show me how deeply You love me and how fully You accept me. Help me run to You, not from You. Thank You for always listening. I’m grateful to be Your child. Amen.