“Well, God didn’t answer my prayer so He must not be real.”
I’m sure you’ve either heard these words or thought them before. And I understand why so many people do say them. After all, if you pray desperately for something—especially something good like healing for a loved one—and it doesn’t happen, the logical conclusion is either God doesn’t exist or He doesn’t care.
How many of us have prayed and prayed for a miracle, for healing, for deliverance, only to be met with what feels like silence? We know God could do it if He wanted—He could’ve healed Maddy from her terminal cancer if He wanted, but He didn’t. The ensuing anger and betrayal can be all-consuming.
What if our prayers weren’t unanswered at all? What if the answer was just “no”? And what if that “no” traumatized us in ways we’re still discovering?
Here’s what I realized after writing last week’s post: I suffer from spiritual trauma when it comes to praying. I never ask God for physical things anymore. I stick with asking for character traits and heart posture—the “safe” prayers. If I stop praying for miracles, then I can avoid being disappointed like I was before, right?
I’ve been trying to protect myself without realizing it.
In Matthew 7:9-11, Jesus specifically mentions physical needs—bread, fish—yet I avoid asking for anything tangible. Somewhere between losing multiple family members, I learned that asking for physical things was dangerous territory.
Tracing It Back: When Prayer Became a Source of Trauma
Before the losses of many family members started, I prayed for everything without hesitation. This being said, I did pray for silly things since I was in high school at the time. I was a junior in high school when my Lola (grandmother) was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. We prayed for her healing, and we truly thought she’d get better.
She passed away a month later.
The breaking point was with my sweet cousin Maddy. She was diagnosed with leukemia when she was fourteen years old. Throughout her battle, we prayed desperate and faithful prayers, along with our communities and churches. When she passed, something in me, in all of us, shattered. Kids aren’t supposed to die; it’s unnatural.
The brutal lesson I gathered from this unnatural tragedy was: If God won’t save a beautiful, innocent 15-year-old, He won’t save anyone. My understanding of how prayer worked was still forming when all this hit. After Maddy, I decided that I “knew” God would do what He wanted anyway despite my prayers. My bold prayers turned into resigned acceptance, and honestly? That’s where I’m still living today.
The Self-Protection That Followed
The Unconscious Shift
By the time my Aunt Terry and later my Lolo (grandfather) got sick, I didn’t pray as often for their healing. I thought there was no point. I had no hope of them getting better because I had watched my Lola and Maddy get worse despite our prayers. I told myself (and still do), “I don’t want to impose on God’s will.” But really it was more of “I know how this ends”.
In reality, my protective strategy was “if I don’t ask, I can’t be crushed again”.
How I Justified It
I convinced myself that this was mature faith instead of a trauma response. I told myself that spiritual requests are more important than physical ones. I already don’t deserve salvation; why should I ask for anything more? I started using surrender as an excuse to avoid vulnerability in my prayers. But the result? Prayer has become distant and theoretical instead of desperate and real. And I’m writing this today still struggling with this.
The Bigger Picture: Two Sides of the Same Trauma
I know I can’t be the only one who’s faced this. I’ve also come to realize there seems to be two vastly different responses to seemingly unanswered prayers.
Stay, But Stop Asking
In my case, I kept my faith but built walls around prayer expectations. I didn’t let myself be vulnerable in my prayers. I essentially told myself, “I’ll believe in God but I won’t trust Him with my actual physical needs.” In my mind, if I don’t ask, I can’t be let down.
Stop Believing Entirely
Then there’s the flip side. Maybe you’ve prayed and prayed for a miracle only to be met with silence. Maybe you think, “God didn’t answer my prayer, so He must not be real.” Complete rejection of God and faith is used as ultimate self protection. “If I don’t believe, I can’t be disappointed again.”
Same Wound, Different Bandages
These responses seem vastly different but they both boil down to the same thing. They both stem from the same spiritual trauma of trusting God and feeling abandoned.
Neither of these responses are about theology; they’re about emotional protection.
In one case, if you don’t ask you can’t be denied, and the other, if you don’t believe you can’t be disappointed.
We’re not the first to be faced with this trauma response. In Psalm 77:7-9, the psalmist writes, “Will the Lord reject forever? And will He never be favorable again? Has His loving kindness ceased forever? Has His promise come to an end forever?” Even the very people who wrote the Bible questioned why God didn’t answer some prayers.
What Trauma Does to Prayer Life
After asking and not receiving, it’s easy to develop fear around honest asking. We bare our souls to the Lord and ask for a miracle, but it feels like He doesn’t hear us. In my case, I didn’t pray for healing for my Lolo as much as I did for my Lola.
Trauma makes vulnerability feel dangerous instead of natural.
The cruel irony is we try to protect ourselves from the very relationship meant to heal us.
And on the other side, trauma tries to tell us that asking for physical things means that you don’t trust God’s will. I know for me, I don’t ask for physical things because I’m so blessed already. I already don’t deserve salvation and mercy, so why should I ask for anything more? Who am I to impose on God’s Will?
But Romans 8:26 tells us, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” The Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we don’t know how to pray, including when we’re too scared to ask.
Biblical Permission to Ask
Jesus didn’t just allow us to ask for physical things—He encouraged it. In Matthew 7:7-11, He says, “Ask and it will be given to you… Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”
Jesus used physical examples—bread, fish—because our physical needs matter to God too. James 4:2 says, “You do not have because you do not ask.” Even Jesus Himself asked to avoid the cross in Matthew 26:39, showing us it’s okay to ask for physical deliverance while surrendering to God’s will.
For Those Still Protecting Themselves
Acknowledging the Wound
Recognizing spiritual trauma is the first step. To be completely honest with you, I didn’t realize the extent of my own trauma with prayer until just a week before writing this post. But my response was just that, a trauma response. This doesn’t mean you’re faithless. This is a very normal reaction. But we need to know that self protection might make sense in the moment but can limit us in the long term.
For Those Who Believe But Protect
If you’ve stopped asking for actual needs in an effort to protect yourself, maybe you feel guilty about asking for physical things. You might think, “I shouldn’t impose”, “That’s selfish”, or “God’s will is more important”. Maybe you only pray ‘safe’ prayers that can’t be proven wrong or avoid prayer altogether during a crisis when it’s needed most. Maybe you have resigned acceptance instead of hopeful asking.
Your protection makes sense after the crisis you endured. But, and I’m trying this myself, what if we tried again? Can we learn to ask without demanding and hope without expecting?
For Those Who Reject to Protect
If you’ve stepped away from faith entirely, using unanswered prayer as ‘proof’ that God doesn’t exist, I hear you. You may feel like you trusted God completely and got burned. This can lead to complete avoidance of anything spiritual. Anger may mask the deep hurt you’ve experienced. Maybe you think “If God was real, He would have done x, y, and z.”
Your hurt is valid, and your response understandable. I’m not writing this to convert you back.
Just know that God isn’t afraid of your anger or your doubt, and He will be there if or when you feel ready to come back.
The Courage to Ask Again
What Asking Might Look Like Now
Start small. Start with asking for something minor but physical. Reframe the narrative—asking isn’t imposing on God’s will, it’s accepting God’s invitation to pray. “God, I’m scared to ask for this but You said I could.” We can pray because we’re invited to, not because we’re demanding a specific outcome.
Looking Ahead
I still don’t know why Maddy passed away so young despite our prayers. I don’t think I’ll ever know, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with it. But I know she’d want me to keep the door open and to continue praying anyway. My fear of asking has been hurting me more than risking disappointment. I’m going to try to ask for physical things again, no matter how silly it may be.
Maybe we can learn to pray with open hands again instead of clenched fists.
Whether you pray differently now or don’t pray at all, your response to spiritual pain makes sense. Maybe healing looks like slowly learning to ask again or slowly learning to believe again. Romans 8:38 says nothing can separate us from God’s love, not even our trauma responses to unanswered prayers. Whatever your next step looks like—asking again, believing again, or just surviving another day—you’re not walking it alone.
