How Did Paul Pray?

The noonday sun shone brightly on the road to Damascus. Saul of Tarsus gripped the reins of his horse, his jaw set with determination. Death warrants from the high priest protruded from his robe. To Saul, every Christian was a blasphemer, a threat to everything he held sacred. He would crush them all. But God had other plans.

A light brighter than lightning flashed across the desert sky. Saul fell hard to the ground. His vision blurred, his body trembled, and a voice thundered through the silence:

“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

“Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:4-5).

Those words changed the course of his life forever. When Saul rose, his world had gone dark. The mighty persecutor now stumbled like a child, led by the very men who once followed his command. In Damascus, he sat sightless and broken, not eating or drinking for three days. The proud Pharisee was gone, replaced by a man who could only pray. And God noticed.

The Lord told a reluctant disciple named Ananias, “Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying” (Acts 9:11).

That small phrase “he is praying” marks the beginning of Paul’s lifelong ministry. For the first time, Saul wasn’t praying the ritualistic words of a Pharisee; he was crying out to a living Savior. In one moment of surrender, a persecutor became a preacher, a proud man became a prayerful man, and the gospel spread to the ends of the earth.

In his early years, Paul’s prayers may have been filled with ambition, a desire to please God through the law. But after encountering the risen Savior, his prayers changed. They became filled with grace, power, and love. He no longer prayed out of pride but out of surrender. Every hardship became an altar; every letter, a prayer poured out for the people he loved.

A Life of Prayer

Prayer was not an occasional practice for Paul. It was the very air he breathed. Paul never stopped praying. Whether aboard a ship tossed by storms, standing before hostile rulers, or writing letters from a prison cell, prayer was his heartbeat. It surpassed words; it was communion with Christ.

From the road to Damascus to the Roman prison cell, prayer marked every step of his journey. His words “pray continually” (1 Thessalonians 5:17) weren’t a theory; he lived them. Whether traveling, writing letters, or suffering, he prayed. To the Colossians he wrote, “Devote yourselves to prayer” (4:2). He encouraged the Philippians to “not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (4:6). He urged believers to “pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests” (Ephesians 6:18).

For Paul, prayer was a continual conversation with God, woven into his travels, his letters, his work, his suffering, his joy. His prayer life flowed out of his deep love for Christ and his unshakable confidence in God’s plan. Whether thanking, interceding, pleading, or praising, Paul’s prayers always centered on God’s glory and the advancement of His kingdom.

Prayers of Thanksgiving

Chains clinked softly in the dim light of a Roman cell. Paul’s hands were scarred, his back sore, but his face was peaceful. The letter before him was addressed to friends hundreds of miles away, the church in Philippi. He paused, smiled, and whispered, “I thank my God every time I remember you” (Philippians 1:3).

The memory of Lydia’s hospitality, the joy of the Philippian jailer’s salvation, the laughter of new believers, all came flooding back. Gratitude filled his heart. The prison walls couldn’t silence his praise. Instead of bitterness, Paul wrote thanksgiving. Instead of despair, he chose joy. Paul knew that gratitude was not dependent on freedom, comfort, or circumstance; it flowed from seeing God’s hand at work.

Paul’s prayers often began with gratitude. He remembered fellow believers with joy. To the Ephesians he wrote, “I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers” (1:16). He told the Thessalonians, “We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers” (1 Thessalonians 1:2). He reminded the Colossians, “We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you” (1:3).

His thankfulness wasn’t about possessions or comfort, it was about people and God’s work in them. He remembered Aquila and Priscilla in Corinth, Timothy and Titus, and the churches scattered across Asia Minor. Each name became a prayer. He thanked God for their faith, their love, their endurance.

Prayer for Spiritual Growth

The dim light of a single torch flickered in the Roman prison, casting long shadows on the wall. Many would have cursed their fate in such a place, but not Paul. Instead, he prayed. He prayed not for freedom, food, or even for his own comfort. He prayed for others, for believers in distant cities he could no longer visit, for churches he had helped plant, for men and women he had led to Christ.

Paul’s petitions were not only about daily needs but, more importantly, about eternal growth. His heart turned to Ephesus. He pictured their gatherings in homes, their voices raised in song, their hearts eager but young in faith. So, with eyes lifted to the heavens beyond the prison ceiling, Paul prayed. “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people” (Ephesians 1:18).

Even chained, Paul saw himself as free. Free to touch heaven through prayer. His body was confined, but his prayers knew no walls. Paul knew that a growing faith was the key to a thriving life. He didn’t pray for easier days; he prayed for stronger hearts. “I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith” (Ephesians 3:16-17).

Unlike many who might pray for health, comfort, or prosperity, Paul’s deepest burden was for believers to become more like Christ. To the Colossians he wrote, “We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God” (1:9-10).

He longed for believers to grasp the vastness of Christ’s love, to be rooted and grounded in it, to be filled with the fullness of God. His prayers lifted them beyond the struggles of life into the richness of heaven’s blessings. He encouraged the Philippians, “This is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight” (1:9).

Prayer as Worship

Paul’s quill paused mid-sentence. Words failed him as he contemplated God’s plan of salvation. He couldn’t just write about it. He had to worship. His theology ignited praise. “Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!” (Romans 11:33).

For Paul, prayer was not merely asking; it was adoring. Every thought of God’s majesty stirred his heart to worship. Even in prison, under threat of death, his prayers rose as incense before the throne of heaven. To the church at Ephesus he prayed, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen” (Ephesians 3:20-21).

Even amid instruction, Paul’s prayers often broke into praise. While instructing Timothy, he prayed. “Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen” (1 Timothy 1:17).

Prayer turned into worship because his heart overflowed with awe. For Paul, prayer wasn’t only for requests. The more he understood God, the more he adored Him.

Prayer in Weakness

Paul’s prayers were not always triumphant. He knew what it meant to plead. When the thorn in his flesh tormented him, “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me” (2 Corinthians 12:8). God’s answer was not what Paul expected. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (v. 9a).

Not deliverance, but God’s presence. Not removal, but spiritual renewal. Instead of resenting weakness, Paul embraced it as a platform for God’s strength. His chains became pulpits, his trials became testimonies, and his sufferings became songs of prayer.

He realized God’s power shines brightest through weakness. The very thing he wished away became the channel for divine strength. Paul stopped pleading for relief and began rejoicing in dependence. “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (12:9b).

Paul discovered that prayer isn’t always about changing his circumstances but about receiving strength through his weakness. God may not remove every hardship, but He always provides grace to endure.

Paul’s Legacy of Prayer

What marked Paul’s life was not wealth, comfort, or ease, but a relentless trust in God. He found peace in prison, joy in trials, and victory in surrender. His greatest legacy was not his travels or miracles, but his faith-filled communion with God.

The last glimpse we have of Paul is in Rome – his body failing, his execution near. Yet his spirit was unbroken. Even facing death, Paul prayed for others. He prayed for Timothy with fatherly affection, urged him to stand firm, and he closed with a blessing. “The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you all” (2 Timothy 4:22).

Paul had prayed in shipwrecks and cities, before kings and in chains. He had prayed for young believers and aging saints, for boldness in preaching and endurance in suffering. His life began and ended in communion with Christ. His chains could silence his voice in the world, but they could never silence his prayers before the throne of God. Paul’s prayers still encourage Christians today:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

Photo credit: ©Getty Images/Klebercordeiro

Brad Simon has shared God’s Word for over forty-five years, with a unique blend of storytelling and Bible exposition. He is a retired Master Jeweler and relies on the God-given creativity that won him several national and international jewelry design awards to craft Biblical Narratives and Life Stories that are engaging and thought-provoking. Once a speaker, author, and publisher for the jewelry industry, now he is putting those skills to work to promote the beauty and appeal of God’s Word. Download a free copy of his devotional on prayer.