That’s normal. Most of the time, prayer feels like nothing at all.
If you came from a Baptist or charismatic background, this might surprise you. You might’ve grown up expecting goosebumps during worship or a warm feeling when you pray. But Orthodox Christianity doesn’t work that way. We don’t measure prayer by feelings. We measure it by faithfulness.
The Church Fathers actually warn against chasing emotional experiences in prayer. St. Nilus of Sinai taught that we should keep our minds “deaf and dumb” during prayer, free from images or fantasies. That includes manufactured feelings. When Elder Macarius of Optina counseled people struggling with dry prayer, he told them to pray simply without expecting remarkable gifts. Just show up. Say the words. Let God do what God does.
Here’s what nobody tells inquirers: the prayers that please God most are often the ones that feel like pushing a boulder uphill. Fr. Josiah Trenham puts it bluntly, dry prayers build spiritual strength precisely because they don’t rely on consolation. You’re praying because you’re supposed to, not because it feels good. That’s obedience. That’s love.
The desert fathers had a saying about this. When your prayer feels cold and empty, use that emptiness as “food for your humility.” Stand there in the dryness and repeat calmly, “I am not worthy, Lord.” Because you’re not. Neither am I. And that’s the point.
Think about it this way. If you work a twelve-hour shift at the refinery and come home exhausted, then stand before your icon corner and say your evening prayers even though you can barely keep your eyes open, that matters. God hears that. St. John of Kronstadt urged people to pray heartfelt prayers even after hard work, without laziness. He knew most prayer happens when we’re tired, distracted, or numb. He also knew that’s when it counts most.
The Bible backs this up. Jesus said God knows what you need before you ask (Matthew 6:7-8). He’s not waiting for you to work up the right emotional pitch before He’ll listen. The publican in the temple just said, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner,” and went home justified. No tears. No ecstasy. Just a short, honest prayer from a broken heart.
So what do you do when prayer feels like talking to the ceiling?
Keep praying. Say the Jesus Prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”, over and over, even if it feels mechanical. Pray your morning and evening prayers from the prayer book even when the words seem dead. Show up to Vespers on Saturday night even if you’re distracted the whole time. God isn’t grading you on how spiritual you feel. He’s watching to see if you’ll stay.
St. Theophylact advised short, frequent prayers over long ones specifically to avoid empty words and wandering thoughts. That’s why we have the Jesus Prayer. You can say it in three seconds while you’re driving down I-10 or waiting for the coffee to brew. You don’t need to feel anything. You just need to say it.
The truth is, feelings come and go. They’re not reliable. One Sunday you might feel close to God during the Liturgy. The next Sunday you’re thinking about lunch. That doesn’t mean God moved. It means you’re human. The efficacy of prayer doesn’t depend on your emotional state. It depends on God’s faithfulness and your willingness to keep showing up.
This is hard for people in Southeast Texas to hear because we live in a culture that values authenticity and emotional honesty. “If I don’t feel it, I’m being fake.” But Orthodoxy distinguishes between feelings and intention. You can intend to pray, choose to pray, commit to pray, all without feeling a thing. That’s not fake. That’s mature faith.
One more thing. Sometimes dryness in prayer is actually a gift. It weeds out the people who are just chasing spiritual highs. It teaches you that prayer isn’t about you at all. It’s about God. And He’s present whether you feel Him or not.
So if you don’t feel anything when you pray, welcome to the club. Most of us don’t, most of the time. Pray anyway. The feelings might come later, or they might not. Either way, you’re learning to love God for who He is, not for how He makes you feel. That’s the kind of prayer that lasts.
