When You Can’t Do, You Can Pray

The Lord has been teaching me a lot about prayer lately.

My dear friend Amber’s cancer journey has left me aching to be near her and Tracey—wishing I could run errands, sit in a waiting room, or just hug them. But I’m far away. I couldn’t do anything—except pray - and give a listening ear.

Then this week, two of my closest friends faced the unimaginable. Debbie’s husband died suddenly of a heart attack—she was giving him CPR when he left this world. And last night, my precious Carrie—who I love like my own daughter—lost her dad, who died suddenly in his sleep. Both times, my body is still in recovery from spinal surgery. Again, I couldn’t do anything—except pray.

And that has been God’s whisper: “Prayer is not what you do when you can’t do anything else. Prayer is the doing.”

“The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.”
— James 5:16 ESV

Last week I made what I call a rookie mistake: I asked the Lord to show me the difference between warring for someone and interceding for someone. 🥴 And of course, He’s been answering.

  • Intercession is standing in the gap. It’s Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms so Israel could prevail (Exodus 17:12). It’s bringing someone before the throne of grace and saying, “Lord, move on their behalf.”

  • Warring is battle. It’s putting on the armor of God and standing against the enemy’s schemes (Ephesians 6:10–18). It’s declaring God’s promises when lies are loud.

Both are prayer. Both are powerful. But they’re not the same—and God has been teaching me how He calls us into both.

One of my friends needs warriors to pray. The other two need intercessory prayer.

This hit me especially in the light of prodigals.

As parents, our instinct is to do something to bring our child home. We want to talk, fix, persuade, explain. But prayer reminds us: it’s not our “doing” that brings them back. It’s warring in the Spirit—battling lies with truth and trusting God to fight for their hearts.

“For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds.”
— 2 Corinthians 10:4

Siblings of prodigals wrestle with wanting to say the right thing to pull their brother or sister back, no matter the age. Sometimes that’s warring, sometimes it’s interceding. Either way, it’s not about them making it happen.

And friends of prodigals? They often feel helpless, watching someone they love in pain. But Scripture reminds us again and again—prayer is not the least we can do, it is the most.

When someone dies, we show up with casseroles and other food. They’re good and kind, but the truth is: a casserole won’t bring someone back to life. It won’t erase the ache of grief.

And in the same way, our human efforts alone won’t bring a prodigal home.

What does move heaven and earth is prayer—not what we are doing, but what the Lord is doing through our prayers.

“Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.”
— Zechariah 4:6

So while I can’t travel across town, deliver a meal, or sit shoulder-to-shoulder in the waiting room right now, I can do something far greater: I can pray.

I can intercede.

I can war.

I can lay my loved ones and my friends’ prodigals before the Father, knowing He hears, He moves, and He fights.

Because sometimes the holiest “doing” is praying.

Sherian McCoy

Hi, I’m Sherian Kaneaster-McCoy—storyteller, porch-sitter, ministry founder, wife, mother, grandmother, and follower of Jesus.

I’ve spent the last two decades walking with women through the hard things—grief, chronic illness, prodigal children, burnout, and healing. I serve as a practitioner in Dr. Tracey Stroup’s Eat, Pray, Faith telehealth practice, where I support clients needing help physically as well as emotionally and spiritually. I’m also honored to serve as Dean of Education at the Academy of Abiding Wellness, equipping others to walk in biblical wisdom and holistic health.

Alongside this work, The Father’s Porch has become a sacred space where I pour out the stories God has written on my heart.

This ministry was born from my own journey as a parent of a prodigal and a lifelong porch-praying woman. It’s a space for the weary—a resting place for those still waiting, still hoping, still praying. Through devotional writing, prayer, and gentle truth, I help others find God in the middle of the story, not just at the end.

Whether I’m telling stories from Scripture or sharing pieces of my own life, I believe in the power of honest words and porchlight hope. The porch is open. The light is on. There’s always a seat for you.

https://www.selahnaturalhealth.com
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