I had already heard the horrific news of another school shooting when a friend from Minneapolis texted yesterday, sharing her close proximity to the school, her deep sadness, and her request for prayer.

A young mom I love is walking through the heartbreak of miscarriage. After nearly a decade of infertility, the Lord had surprised her with the gift of pregnancy. Now that joy has been met with deep sorrow.

I know young men who are fighting against addiction to drugs and alcohol.

Just a little over a week into their senior year of high school, some of our youth group girls lost a classmate in a tragic motorcycle accident.

I have an elderly friend who suffers from debilitating, anxious thoughts.

A young man hung himself in the apartment next door to my son.

I recently met a 95-year-old man who is living with COPD, battling cancer, and longing for his great-grandson to return to the Lord.

These are but a few of the things that weigh heavily on my heart.

When I think about each person and their suffering, I am prone to thoughts of helplessness and hopelessness. I can’t change a thing. I’m not able to prevent pain. I’m not able to stop sorrow. I’m not able to heal or to save.

As Christ-followers, we cling to the truth that we know the only One who can change things. The only One who is able to prevent pain, stop sorrow, heal, and save. This truth means we aren’t actually helpless and hopeless.

We know that God’s people have always prayed. We know that God hears and answers (Isaiah 65:24, Psalm 18:6, Psalm 107:28, Zechariah 13:9, Matthew 7:7-8, 1 Peter 3:12). We know that the prayers of believers are effective, especially as they relate to the forgiveness of sins (James 5:16).

The evil one; our culture; even well-meaning, cynical Christians tell us that prayer doesn’t matter. And while the truth from Scripture is that prayer does matter, I am encouraged most in the area of prayer by Jesus’ life on earth.

And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He [Jesus] departed and went out to a desolate place, and there He prayed. ~Mark 1:35

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail.” ~Luke 22:31-32a

“I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours.” ~John 17:9

“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word…” ~John 17:20

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” ~Matthew 23:37

And going a little farther He fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” ~Matthew 26:39

Jesus prayed.

He prayed for Peter. He prayed for His followers. He prayed for us. He prayed for Jerusalem.

And in anguish, ready to go to His death on our behalf, Jesus prayed that there might be a different way to save a crooked and depraved people. We find Him in the Garden, crying out to His Father, asking for there to be another way, yet submitting to His Father’s will.

And just in case we might have missed it, the writer of Hebrews (5:7) tells us: In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears…

Jesus prayed.

If Jesus—the God of the universe and Creator of all things—when He walked this earth as fully God and fully man, needed to be alone with His Father; if Jesus began His days in prayer; if Jesus prayed for those entrusted to Him; if Jesus carried His grief to His Father; if Jesus had to submit to His Father’s will; if Jesus prayed, how much more should we pray?

Pray, people, pray!

A few weeks ago, I visited a church in South Dakota where a retired pastor was serving as the guest preacher. Preaching from a text in Mark, he reminded us to be on guard without living in fear. He repeated a sort of catchphrase throughout the sermon that has stuck with me: “Pray, people, pray!”

We are not helpless, nor are we hopeless.

Jesus prayed. So, pray, people, pray!