I've read a lot of books on prayer; it's a passion of mine, and I found his approach unique, particularly his linking of childlikeness with prayer. His personal illustrations, particularly those relating to his and his wife's journey with an autistic daughter, really connected with this father's heart. And, unlike many books that can tend to produce more guilt than prayer, Miller's approach aptly identifies an attitude of helplessness as key to effective praying.
Some of the portions I highlighted:
Our trust in ourselves and in our talents makes us structurally independent of God. As a result, exhortations to pray don't stick. (p. 16).Not many books are as appropriate for someone who's not praying regularly as for someone who's praying constantly. A Praying Life is that book.
Imagine asking Jesus how he's doing. He'd say, "My Father and I are doing great. He has given me everything I need today." You respond, "I'm glad your Father is doing well, but let's just focus on you for a minute. Jesus, how are you doing? Jesus would look at you strangely, as if you were speaking a foreign language. The question doesn't make sense. He simply can't answer the question "How are you doing?" without including his heavenly Father. That's why contemplating the terror of the cross at Gethsemane was such an agony for Jesus. He had never experienced a moment when he wasn't in communion with his Father. Jesus' anguish is our normal (p. 45
I did my best parenting by prayer (p. 59).
One of the unique things about continuous praying is that it is its own answer to prayer (p. 71).
Learned desperation is at the heart of a praying life (p. 117).
"Asking in Jesus' name" isn't another thing I have to get right so my prayers are perfect. It is one more gift of God because my prayers are so imperfect (p. 135).
Even my frugality was a form of the love of money (p. 168).
The praying life is inseparable from obeying, loving, waiting, and suffering (p. 197).
Whenever you love, you reenact Jesus' death (p. 214).