A Prayer For When Life Is Unfair

When life is unfair I want to pray, I know I should pray, but have no blinking idea what to pray. OR, I’m so pissed off I explode in a torrent of expletives or keep my trap shut terrified I’ll offend Him. Have you been there?

Silly really, given He knows my inmost being and can discern my thoughts from afar (exactly how far I wonder?)

Friends, sometimes life is unfair. Here’s a prayer for when it is.

If I’m honest God, life is unfair right now.

It’s hard, painful and not the life I signed up for.

And quite frankly I’m pissed.

Where on earth is the “life in all its fullness” you said you came to give me?
It seems to have vanished.
Poof, gone.


I know none of us get to skip the hard stuff, but I’m at the end of myself.

I’m trapped in survival mode, overwhelmed, exhausted and wondering what I did to deserve this. Are you mad? Did I do something wrong? Are you even listening or are you off doing important things like helping the poor and oppressed?

All I can see are more relentless days, my new normal, stretching ahead into the dark horizon. No change, no let up, hope a thing of the past.
And where are you? Are you there in the dying light? Are you here with me?

Can you even see me?
Is this all there is now God, or will I get to live life to the full again sometime soon?
I so want to.

I ache to feel joy bubbling up within me again, even just for a moment. The intimacy of friendships that dig deep and the peace of knowing You’ll never leave me.
How about some of that?

life is unfair

I want to know what it is to belly laugh until tears run down my legs and feel so brave in who I am I’ll dance without music and sing with no song.
Is that possible Lord with everything going on?

There’s so much I don’t know and it bugs me senseless.

Why is this happening? What should I do next? Can you fix this? Can I change this? Do you hear me? How long, oh Lord, how long?
Why? How? When? Who? What? Questions and more questions.

Folks in the bible lament their pain so this is my lament to you.
They trust in you and reluctantly, kicking and screaming, I’ll trust in you.

Because where else would I go?

I’ve tried trusting myself and we know how that worked out, don’t we?
I’ve tried putting my faith in my job, money, and my ability and that wasn’t so hot either.

life is unfair

I’ve looked to my kids, my family, my friends and my looks (such as they are) to fix my pain, and they didn’t fill the void or give me peace.

Then I looked to the world. I searched Google, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. I followed and have been followed, I’ve liked and been liked. But it’s not the same. Those thumbs up and emoji’s don’t stop the hurting. Don’t hold me when my world is dark and cold. Only you can do that.
So where else would I go?

You are the only person who fills me from the inside out. You’re the only place where my fear holds hands with peace, where joy and pain lie nestled side by side.
You keep your promises.

So I trust in you too.

I’ll bring it all to you; my pain, hurt, emptiness, and overwhelm, and lay it at your feet.
Then I’ll walk away. As best I can, without turning back to snatch it up again.

Thank you for holding me, never leaving me, and working this junk and yuck for good (even if I have absolutely no clue how you’re going to do that).
Jesus, help me scootch over to the passenger seat of life.
I need you to drive.

You said there’d be storms and boy, is this ever a tropical one. It’s threatening to drown me and everywhere I look there’s flood damage.

Yet you came to give us life in all its fullness. I don’t get it, how does that stack up?

Maybe they’re not sequential, separated in time and space. 
What if we’ve got it wrong when we wait until the storm is over to live full life. Am I right God?

If so, show me more of your abundance right where I am. Help me see the rubies in the rubble of my life, the diamonds in the dirt. Give me your eyes, Lord, because I can see diddly squat around here.

Thank you that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height not depth, not anything else in all creation, will be able to separate me from your love in Jesus.[1]

Today is a new day. Your mercies are fresh and your grace is sufficient.

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for never leaving me.

Let’s chat again soon.

In the name of your son Jesus, who died so I could thrive and not just survive, all this earthly rubbish and pain,

Amen, from your messed up, overwhelmed, ranting child.



If so, I’m so sorry. It probably means you’re having a pretty rubbish time of it right now.


I’ve made some resources, including a guided prayer for when you have cancer (but you can use it whenever life’s fallen apart).

Grab them HERE  and I’ll send you a link to my FREE RESOURCE LIBRARY filled will oodles of goodies for finding more when life’s not fair.

This article originally appeared at NikiHardy.com.

Niki Hardy
Niki is a Brit in the USA, a cancer survivor and pastor’s wife, a fresh air junkie and tea drinker. As a speaker and blogger her candid, humorous storytelling helps us, find humor and grace in the darkest place, and learn to laugh when all we want to do is scream. She loves to make new friends, so find her and more encouragement, on her blog, Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. When she’s not speaking, writing or running trails with her Doodles, she can be found trying to figure out how to use three remote controls to turn on one TV.

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