Photo by NEOM on Unsplash
For the most part, when I write anything, I use the help of software called Grammarly.1
While I’m not a fan of Grammarly’s writing assistant—which tries to take too much of the steering wheel from me—I do find its editor tool helpful. Grammarly was originally built to examine a piece of writing and flag grammatical mistakes or deficiencies.
Let me tell you, I have needed this help.
Even though I had great teachers in school, I chose to set my mind on other things than where prepositions go and how commas actually work. Grammarly brings out the red pen and highlights these kinds of issues.
Here’s the added benefit. Every time Grammarly tells me a mistake that I’ve made, I’m conditioned to stop making that mistake.
It acts like Mrs. Taylor back at Andrew Jackson High School, who graciously and ruthlessly pointed out weaknesses in my writing.
When I use it the right way, Grammarly serves me like a tutor by helping me become a better writer.
Passive vs. Active
Without a doubt, the most common issue that Grammarly has flagged for me is my tendency to write sentences in the passive voice.
Let’s take two sentences in comparison.
Sentence A: “Steve was given ice cream by his friend.”
In Sentence A, it’s as if the action is being hijacked. Steve is made to function as the subject of the sentence by receiving the action of “was given.”
This is called the passive voice. Steve is not responsible for the transfer of the ice cream. He is a passive participant. You see what I mean? His friend does all the work, but the sentence is structured so Steve seems like the main event.
Let’s consider Sentence B.
Sentence B: “Steve’s friend gave him ice cream.”
Okay, here Steve’s friend is correctly put in the subject position and gets the space to do his thing.
Steve’s friend executes the ice cream gift—an active action.
Likewise, Steve receives the ice cream—a passive action.
Now, not all passive-voice sentences are bad (a few are intentionally included in this piece). Sometimes, for writing to be beautiful, it needs to break a few rules. But breaking rules must be exceptional, not normative.
When we speak or write, relying too much on the passive voice makes our communication clunky. It can really hinder our audience from following a smooth train of thought.
But the biggest issue is that it rearranges what we’re actually saying.
Above, in Sentence A, it’s as if I’m trying to give Steve credit, to celebrate Steve receiving the ice cream. But the hero of the sentence is really his friend.
Awareness of our tendency to use the passive voice matters.
Voicing Our Prayers
In a similar way, I’ve become increasingly aware of how I use the passive voice in my prayer life. I’m curious if you do as well.
Here’s what I mean.
When I pray, sometimes I’ll say something like, “God, would Jack and Jill be comforted during this hard season?” or “God, we pray that this trip would be blessed.”
Now, the problem is not in the mechanics of the grammar—that really doesn’t matter for authentic communication with God. He wants our hearts, not our polish.
The problem is what I am implicitly confessing with the way I’m praying.
Instead of praying, “God, would Jack and Jill be comforted during this hard season?” what if I prayed, “God, please comfort them.”
Instead of “God, we pray that this trip would be blessed”, we could pray “God, please bless this trip.”
See, in every conversation, we communicate on several levels all at once.
If I say “I am running late” to my wife in a soft, playful manner, it’s obvious that I’m trying to diffuse the situation a bit. On the other hand, if I blurt out “I am running late” in a loud, harsh voice, I communicate anger and perhaps even blame.
The way I say it reveals what I believe about the circumstances.
The same applies to our prayers.
I want my prayers to be conditioned in such a way that I confess what I hold to be true about God.
In particular, He is a big God and a loving God.
When I pray, I don’t want to skirt around hopes and outcomes—I want to make direct requests to the one who has all power. I don’t want to use the passive voice in my prayers in a way that disregards my belief that God is the central agent in all of this.
He is in charge.
And not only that, He is compassionate and gracious and kind. When I pray, I want to appeal to these things that I confidently hold and ask boldly and in faith.
I want to pray with full trust that even when I can’t see what He is doing, I know God is not being passive.
He’s always active.
He’s always perfect.
He is goodness meets greatness, every time.
For clarity, I’m not a big fan of AI tools that are designed to supplant my own thinking and voice. For more thoughts on AI, you can read an older Daybreak entry called “Long Division is Good for the Soul.”
