When We Pray Like Children
All the ways to pray - with inspiration from Jimmy Eat World and Coldplay
Before I knew who Jesus was, I prayed. I didn’t know who I prayed to, but life has a way of bringing us all to our knees in desperation, and for some of us, this starts young.
When I was a little girl, I was in a number of on-going situations that led me to my knees in desperation. I didn’t know who God was, or if God was real. I’d heard of Jesus being someone in the room with me that i couldn’t see - like a ghost - and had a faint feeling or hope that whoever God was, that God could hear me and maybe even cared.
When there was turmoil at home, I ran to my bed or the floor of my room and cried out to God - asking if there was anyone there bigger than all the things in my life that felt too big and terrible and confusing. I pleaded for help and cried out for things to change. I let my pain show. I mumbled questions towards the universe, but more than the universe, towards someone I knew or hoped was there, even if I didn’t understand who that someone was.
Sometimes, I want to go back to that unpretentious time. I know who I pray to now, I recognize the Holy Spirit in me, and I know Jesus is with me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, but what I sometimes long for is the way I threw myself at the feet of God without hesitation or feeling the need to know anything or do anything “the right way,” and poured my heart out alongside of snot and tears and mumbled words. There was nothing to prove or pretend, no list to check off and no need to show off.
Prayer is for all of us. It’s meant to be simple and ever-accessible for all — every age, every stage of faith.
I recently shared about a new children’s book on prayer, Kaylee Prays for the Children of the World, by Helen Lee, and today I have yet another children’s book about prayer to tell you about: All The Things I Say to God: Learning to Pray Anytime, Anywhere by Tanner Olson.
Tanner’s offering was a gift for the little girl in me who wanted to talk to God even before she knew if God was real. It’s a gift for all of us, big and small, to know and be reminded that we can talk to God anywhere, about anything. Here are some words from Tanner himself. I hope you’ll check his book out and order a copy for yourself, your kids, or someone you love. Leave a comment below by Tuesday, June 10th, for a chance to win a copy! I’ll pick one winner and announce it in the comments below.
In the Middle of the Ride
On infertility, hope, adoption, and the quiet surprises of God
By Tanner Olson
A few weeks ago, I looked in the rearview mirror and said with a smile, “This is what I prayed for.”
My wife is in the middle. Judah, our son in his car seat next to her. Pancake, our dog, curled up on the other side. We were driving north as a family to see friends, a few hours away in Indiana.
I remember when life didn’t look like this.
There was a time I’d glance in that same rearview mirror and see only myself looking back.
With both hands on the wheel, I’d whisper something to God. Something like, “Please, God. Surprise me with something beautiful.”
Every time I drive north out of Nashville, I think of one particular morning in May 2022.
It was early. I was alone, driving from home to northern Michigan to spend time with my wife and her family. I had left before sunrise, hoping to make good time.
I queued up a playlist I created titled Every Song I’ve Ever Loved. It’s 88 hours long, mostly punk rock. Bands like blink-182, Jimmy Eat World, and New Found Glory. Music that’s carried me through the last two decades and is still helping me take the next step forward. I set the playlist on shuffle and jammed to whatever came through the speakers.
A few hours into the ride The Middle by Jimmy Eat World came on and I belted along.
It just takes some time
Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything'll be just fine
Everything, everything'll be alright, alright
After the chorus, I cut the music off.
It was just the silence and me. How much time would it take? I wondered. Sure, everything might be alright in the end—but right then, it didn’t feel that way.
Tears began streaming from my face as I looked in my rearview mirror and wondered, “When will there be a child in the backseat?”
God and I were about to have it out. A conversation I had been putting off.
You see, after years of trying to start a family, my wife and I were recently diagnosed with unexplained infertility.
We dreamed of being parents, but now we were left wondering if that dream would ever come true. We grieved the news and were left exhausted, mentally and spiritually. Grief has the power to drain the color out of life. It leaves you feeling like a shell of yourself. You look in the mirror and wonder, “What happened? Who are you? Why is life like this? Will everything be alright?”
For months, we walked through the wilderness of unanswered questions and painful waiting.
Eventually, our prayer shifted from Why? to What’s next?And somehow, quietly and clearly, we were led to adoption.
So we began the process: Paperwork. Home studies. Background checks. Saving.
Like the song says, we were in the middle of the ride, waiting for everything to be just fine.
Life went on.
I kept working, doing the job I’d done for years: writing.
Up to that point, most of my writing had been poems and essays on self-discovery and faith.
But during that season, I found myself creating something new—a children’s book.
I often write what I need to hear, and this book was no different.
I wrote All the Things I Say to God: Learning to Pray Anytime, Anywhere while we waited to become parents.
The book follows a little girl named Abby as she discovers how to pray all by herself. She does what I was too tired to do: speak with God. Through the book Abby learns how to express her gratitude, ask questions, pray for others, and use silence to communicate with God. Led by her own curiosity, she finds out that you can pray for anything and everything—God’s love knows no bounds.
Writing a book about prayer reminded me that I could still pray, even when life wasn’t what I wanted it to be.
Even when I didn’t feel like myself.
Even when I didn’t feel like praying at all.
When life gets heavy, I tend to shut down, to turn inward instead of turning to God.I bottle up the thoughts and emotions I don’t want to face, when really, those are the very things I need to bring to Him.
Abby taught me that I could be like her—like the very character I wrote about.
I could ask God questions. I could thank Him. I could join Him in the silence.
So, I did.
I brought my questions to God. I brought Him my grief and fears and frustration. I brought Him my hurt and hopes and dreams. I prayed anytime, anywhere, and about anything.
It’s no longer May 2022. Time does what time does. It moves forward. So did we.
The grief remains, but it no longer weighs as much as it once did. I’ve learned how to carry it. To walk with it. To bring it along for the ride. To pray with it. And slowly, I’ve realized something else: While I move forward carrying my grief, I can also carry hope.
As I move forward with grief and hope, I stop from time to time to look back.
Looking back has become a spiritual practice for me.
It helps me see what I couldn’t see when I was in the thick of it.
It shows me how far God has carried me.
It opens my eyes to the quiet, steady grace that was there all along.
It reminds me that even when I felt forgotten, I wasn’t.
God was growing something in the dark, seeds of love, trust, resilience.
I don’t live in the past, but just like when I drive, I glance back from time to time.
And when I do, I see it:
I see the faithfulness of God.I see the love of God.I see the comfort of God. I see the kindness of God.I see that He heard every single one of my prayers.
And Jimmy Eat World was right.
It just takes some time.
I can’t promise that everything in your life will work out the way you want it to. Actually, I can promise that it won’t. Life doesn’t work like that.
But I can tell you this:God is full of good surprises.He’s not playing a prank on you. Love isn’t a trick. It’s an invitation.
An invitation to trust. To rest in goodness. To hope. To continue. To look back and see God’s faithfulness. To believe everything will one day be alright. To pray—knowing you can talk to God anytime, anywhere, about anything.
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If this story resonated with you, you might enjoy the children’s book I wrote during that season:
All the Things I Say to God: Learning to Pray Anytime, Anywhere https://www.writtentospeak.com/all-the-things-i-say-to-god
It’s for kids and grown-ups alike—a gentle invitation to talk with God in the middle of anything.
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Tanner Olson is an author, spoken word poet, and speaker. He travels across the country sharing poetry and telling stories of grace and hope. His work has been described as “hopefully unique and inviting” as it blends faith, humor, and curiosity. Tanner is the author of multiple books, including Walk A Little Slower: A Collection of Poems and Other Words, All the Things I Say to God (Zonderkidz, 2025), and an upcoming release of poems and essays with HarperCollins in February of 2026.
Tanner doesn’t take himself too seriously, drinks his coffee black, and cheers for the Orlando Magic. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with his wife, Sarah, their son, Judah, and their dog, Pancake.
To connect with Tanner, find him on Instagram (@writtentospeak), on Substack, or visit writtentospeak.com.
A few ways (and places) I’ve been praying lately
I’ve been praying in the car while listening to We Pray by Coldplay (I especially love the TWICE version ). This song takes me back to my childhood and how I went to God without knowing much except that those I love were hurting, and I needed help. I hear that that in the voices joined together for this song.
I’ve also been praying and crying at my kitchen table while writing #lettersforgaza thanks to guidance from The Telos Group, and American Friends of Combatants for Peace. Letting each word and sentence press onto paper while I ask God to go with these words, however small of an act it is, feels right. Related to this, I recently discovered Sarah Musa and her beautiful Palestinian collection of scarves (100% of the profit from these select scarves are donated to relief efforts). So, I purchased a small poppy kefiyyah and am waiting for its arrival. As a follower of Jesus, I plan wear it in solidarity and as a prayer scarf — a felt, physical reminder to pray for Palestinians and the war to end.
Sometimes I go back to The Lord’s Prayer, imagine Jesus instructing me on how to pray, and then follow along, praying for the things he listed for his disciples to pray. The simplicity of it resets my heart and mind and reminds me what’s most important.
And, lastly, I’ve been using the Pray As You Go App while I get ready, or in the car on-the-go, or while I sit in my backyard, pretend to be a birder, and sip my morning coffee. Sometimes, I need someone else’s words to guide me in prayer when I can’t find my own very well.
Today, whatever you are carrying and wherever you are, whatever might feel too heavy and too horrific, too ordinary or small, turn towards God and tell God what you feel. Nothing is too much, too angry, too small, too difficult, too everyday, too doubtful, or too unspiritual to bring. Lay it at God’s feet with tears or whispers or loud cries. All of it belongs to the ears of God because God loves all of you, every day, in every language, every place, and in every way.
Grateful and shalomsick,
 | A guest post by
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“It just takes some time.” That seems like an invitation, too.
I always knew who God was, although I am closer to him than ever.