It’s time to read the Bible. But I had a late night last night and tons of things to do today. I’m just not in a mental frame to read the Bible right now.

It’s time to pray. But I just don’t feel like praying right now. I’ll wait til I am feeling more spiritual.

It’s time to get ready for church. But I’ve had a lot of appointments this week. I just don’t feel like being around a lot of people and activity. I think I’ll just watch the service from home.

Have you ever faced any of those scenarios? I think we’ve all had times we haven’t felt like doing what we know we need to.

Sometimes it even feels like we’d be faking it if we proceeded with prayer, Bible reading, or going to church without the proper spiritual feelings in place.

But I’d like to suggest that we wouldn’t be faking it. Instead, by doing what we ought to do even when we don’t feel like it, we’d be battling our fleshly nature, what the Bible calls our “old man.”

We received a new nature at salvation. But we still have the old one as well. Our old nature constantly pulls us in the direction giving in to ourselves, yielding to fleshly desires.

If we never felt like doing any spiritual activities, we’d have cause for concern about our relationship with the Lord.

But even having experienced the blessing of prayer, Bible reading, and church attendance, sometimes we’re still sluggish and reluctant to participate in them.

What can we do?

Get enough rest. Sometimes the cause is physical. I’m often too drowsy for my morning Bible reading if I stayed up too late the night before. Those times of life when a full night’s sleep is impossible—when a new baby is in the house or we’re sick—we may have to adjust our time with the Lord into smaller breaks throughout the day.

Search our hearts. Sometimes that sluggish or negative feeling might indicate something is wrong somewhere. We can ask God to “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! (Psalm 139:23-24). If He brings something to mind, we can confess it to Him, ask His forgiveness, and make arrangements to do whatever else we have to do to make it right (apologize to someone, return an item, etc.).

Search whether we’re filled with other things. Almost every mother I know has had to tell her children they can’t eat sweets or munchies before dinner, because those things would blunt their appetite for good, nourishing food. Maybe we need to lay aside something that’s dulling our spiritual appetites.

Get help. Elisabeth Elliot wrote in On Asking God Why, “When I stumble out of bed in the morning, put on a robe, and go into my study, words do not spring spontaneously to my lips–other than words like, ‘Lord, here I am again to talk to you. It’s cold. I’m not feeling terribly spiritual….’ Who can go on and on like that morning after morning, and who can bear to listen to it day after day?” She chose to read psalms or hymns to help get her heart in the right place.

Don’t turn away from the primary means of reviving us. “I will never forget Your precepts, For by them You have revived me and given me life” (Psalm 119:93, AMP). God uses His word, prayer, and His people to work in our lives. When we neglect them, we’re denying our souls the very things they need to thrive. One of my former pastors used to say that one of his best times of prayer happened after he had to confess to the Lord that he didn’t feel like praying.

Don’t expect perfection. We haven’t failed at our devotional time if we haven’t run through our whole to-do list—pray so many minutes, read so many chapters, journal so many pages. Remember, it’s not a routine or a performance. Time in the Bible and prayer is simply communicating with the One who loves us best, getting to know Him better.

Ignore the feelings. That’s part of maturity. Every day we have to do things we don’t feel like doing (go to work, wake up before we want to, make or at least provide for dinner, say no to excess sugar). If we only ever did what we’d felt like—well, many of us would be couch potatoes in dirty laundry living off fast food.

I’ve only rarely had this problem, but sometimes people don’t feel like eating. Or they might, but they don’t want what’s available. But if they eat, the food nourishes them.

J. Sidlow Baxter once wrote an amusing account of trying to get into the habit of regular prayer. First he had to fend off the constant pull of distractions and duties. But then he had to just do it.

I found that there was an area of me that did not want to pray, and there was a part of me that did. The part that didn’t was the emotions, and the part that did was the intellect and the will.

So I said to my will: “Will, are you ready for prayer?” And Will said, “Here I am, I’m ready.” So I said, “Come on, Will, we will go.”

So Will and I set off to pray. But the minute we turned our footsteps to go and pray all my emotions began to talk. “We’re not coming, we’re not coming, we’re not coming.” And I said to Will, “Will, can you stick it?” And Will said, “Yes, if you can.” So Will and I, we dragged off those wretched emotions and we went to pray, and stayed an hour in prayer.

If you had asked me afterwards, Did you have a good time, do you think I could have said yes? A good time? No, it was a fight all the way.

What I would have done without the companionship of Will, I don’t know. In the middle of the most earnest intercessions I suddenly found one of the principal emotions way out on the golf course, playing golf. And I had to run to the golf course and say, “Come back”… It was exhausting, but we did it.

The next morning came. I looked at my watch and it was time. I said to Will, “Come on, Will, it’s time for prayer.” And all the emotions began to pull the other way and I said, “Will, can you stick it?” And Will said, “Yes, in fact I think I’m stronger after the struggle yesterday morning.” So Will and I went in again.

The same thing happened. Rebellious, tumultuous, uncooperative emotions. If you had asked me, “Have you had a good time?” I would have had to tell you with tears, “No, the heavens were like brass. It was a job to concentrate. I had an awful time with the emotions.”

This went on for about two and a half weeks. But Will and I stuck it out. Then one morning during that third week I looked at my watch and I said, “Will, it’s time for prayer. Are you ready?” And Will said, “Yes, I’m ready.”

And just as we were going in I heard one of my chief emotions say to the others, “Come on, fellows, there’s no use wearing ourselves out: they’ll go on whatever we do…”

Suddenly one day weeks later while Will and I were pressing our case at the throne of the heavenly glory, one of the chief emotions shouted “Hallelujah!” and all the other emotions suddenly shouted, “Amen!” For the first time all of me was involved in the exercise of prayer. And God suddenly became real and heaven was wide open and Christ was there and the Holy Spirit was moving and I knew that all the time God had been listening.

The point is this: the validity and the effectuality of prayer are not determined or even affected by the subjective psychological condition of the one who prays. The thing that makes prayer valid and vital and moving and operative is “my faith takes hold of God’’s truth.

The Christian life isn’t without emotion. Emotional highs and lows are expressed all through the Bible, especially the psalms. But emotions are variable and unreliable. They shouldn’t be running our lives. One of my college professors used to say, “Good feelings follow right actions.”

God understands our human frailty. “For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14). Jesus is the One who told his disciples (and us), “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41).

It’s wonderful when will and mind and emotion all work together. But when they don’t, let’s not wait til we “feel spiritual” to do spiritual things. God may use what we didn’t feel like doing to create the right feelings.

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