Confessions of a Pray-er to be Named Later

Confessions of a Pray-er to be Named Later is not a manual for the spiritually elite. It’s a candid look at the journey of someone who’s messed up, wrestled with doubt, and still keeps showing up to pray—sometimes with eloquence, often with nothing more than “Lord, help.”

This book is for the ones still learning how to talk to God when life’s loud, hope’s quiet, and the answers feel overdue.

Here’s a glimpse into Chapter 1. If you’ve ever prayed from the middle of the mess, you’ll feel right at home.

Chapter 1 – Taking the Field

You write. I teach. I preach. I talk about Jesus a lot. You’d think I’d be a prayer machine by now. But if I’m honest? If prayer were tryouts, I might be the first one cut.

It’s not that I don’t pray. I do. But often my prayers feel more like hurried halftime speeches than deep locker-room strategy. I get distracted. I forget what I was saying mid-sentence. I start strong, then suddenly I’m thinking about dinner, email, or what happened to that one sock in the dryer.

So let’s be real: I’m not writing this book because I’m a prayer warrior. I’m writing it because I want to be one.

This is for every person who feels like prayer is hard. For every believer who wants to pray but doesn’t know how. For every soul who’s ever said, “I know I should pray more…”

This book is for us.

And if prayer were a sport, this chapter is where we start training.

The Childhood Spark

When I was a kid, I watched the Dallas Cowboys every Sunday. It was the late 60s—Don Meredith, Bob Lilly, and the rest of the Doomsday Defense. I wore a Cowboys jersey to bed and begged for a new football every Christmas because I wore the old ones out in the yard.

Back then, football wasn’t just a game. It was a calling.

I played with friends in the yard. Then I joined a YMCA league. Eventually, I played in school. I studied the game. I knew the plays. I could tell you when Tom Landry was going to call a draw play, a screen, or send the house on a blitz.

That kind of passion is what I want for prayer.

I’ve known people like that—men and women whose prayers shook heaven. When I needed prayer, they were the names I wanted on my side. They were the prayer warriors. The spiritual linebackers.

And I want in the game.

But before I can call plays, I need to learn the basics.

Lombardi’s Football

After a tough loss, legendary coach Vince Lombardi gathered his players and began the next practice by holding up the ball and saying, “Men, this is a football.”

It sounds simple—even ridiculous—but the point was clear: you can’t succeed in the game if you forgot or don’t know the fundamentals.

So let’s start where we need to:

This… is prayer.

It’s not a wish list. It’s not just a church thing. It’s not a backup plan.

Prayer is relationship. Prayer is power. Prayer is the lifeblood of a believer.

When the Game Changes

Before we get too far, I need to tell you something that shaped this journey for me.

There was a moment I didn’t see coming. A diagnosis. A life-defining pivot.

“Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer.”

Those four words changed everything.

It wasn’t my diagnosis. It was my wife’s.

And just like that, I was in a game I had never trained for. No practice reps. No warm-ups. Just fear, confusion, and heartbreak.

I knew God. I knew Scripture. I had faith. But in that moment, I didn’t know how to pray.

Would I pray for healing? Would I pray for peace? Would I even pray at all? Because when the love of your life is given a death sentence, words fail.

This book is going to tell more of that story. But for now, I want you to know: I’ve been where you are. I’m still walking that field.

Let’s Get in the Game

I don’t want to sit on the bench of my own spiritual life.

I want to run the plays. I want to learn the language. I want to go from being a spiritual spectator to a fully trained prayer warrior.

If that’s you too, then let’s lace up.

Because it’s time to take the field.