The Yellow Pages used to encourage us to “let our fingers do the walking,” saving ourselves the time and effort of going from store to store to track down what we want. Today, a parallel adage might be to “let our thumbs do the talking.” Rather than place the call for the give and take of live communication, we lob thoughts at one another through the technology of texting.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a big fan of texting. All I need to do is text “yogurt” to my wife at the store for her to add it to her grocery list. To avoid the dog barking and disturbing a sleeping baby, all I need to do is text “here” to my daughter to let her know I have arrived at her home and she should restrain the dog.

Texting, however, has serious drawbacks when it becomes our method of choice for communicating with God. We shoot Him a text, with a “need this” or “thanks for that.” Not literally of course. But our prayer lives can often resemble something akin to texting, where we send snippets of content to God.

By way of contrast, look at the psalms. The psalmist enters into conversation with God. His attributes are reviewed; His mercies rehearsed. Revealed truths are brought to bear on life’s situations. Psalms are more chat rooms with God.

For example, look at Psalm 143. Imagine you’ve just messed up–again, whether it be drinking, spending, pornography, or whatever else you turned to instead of God. You’ve played the harlot. God has brought you to your senses. Head hanging low in shame, you slink toward the mercy seat, assured of access because of Jesus.

Now, try the words of Psalm 143 on for size. You need mercy. You come to the throne of grace where God promises that you will find mercy and receive grace to help in time of need. So you ask for mercy.

You cite the faithfulness of God, who is both faithful and just to forgive you your sin and to cleanse you from all unrighteousness. As the psalmist points out, no one living is righteous before God. How well you know that! But you also know that it not on the basis of your righteousness you come, but on that of the Righteous One.

We’re not going to take time to walk through Psalm 143 here, but if you do, you’ll find a template for a conversation with God in which you ask Him to forgive you, rescue you from the enemy, renew your faint spirit, restore you in grace, turn to the very God you have spurned, hear again of His love, ask for His help, request the wisdom of His Word and strength of His Spirit. And the bottom line of all this is not you. It is for His name’s sake. You are His workmanship of grace, created in Christ Jesus for a redeemed life (see Titus 2:11-14).

It is true; you could text a lot of these sentiments and pleas. But how much more satisfying is it to wrestle with your God in the give-and-take of prayer that appropriates His revealed will and grace bound up in Christ?

In such prayer, you find that instead of seeing God as a cosmic vending machine, you grow to know Him as your Father in heaven. You drink deeply of His grace. You find nourishment in His truth. Prayer becomes about something more than information. It becomes transformation

Stanley D. Gale is a Teaching Elder in the Presbyterian Church in America and has served as Pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian Church in West Chester, PA since 1988. He blogs at the Community Houses of Prayer website where this article first appeared. It is used with his permission.