For This Reason
READ
There's a particular kind of prayer that happens when someone has just glimpsed something too big to fully hold onto, and all they can do is kneel and ask for more of it. That's exactly where Paul lands here, after two chapters of unpacking grace, mystery, and God's sweeping plan for His people. Words alone don't feel like enough anymore, so he turns to prayer instead.
Read Ephesians 3:14–21 slowly — this isn't a passage to rush through, and it wasn't written to be.
14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
REFLECT
"For this reason I kneel before the Father." Paul doesn't specify exactly which reason, because by this point in the letter, there are so many — the mystery revealed, the family formed, the grace given — that "this reason" could mean nearly everything he's already described. It's as if the sheer weight of what he's been writing finally tips him over into prayer, because explanation has run its course and now only asking will do.
And what he asks for is almost audacious in scope. Strength "with power through his Spirit in your inner being." Christ dwelling in hearts "through faith." Being "rooted and established in love." And then, remarkably, "to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge." Read that carefully — Paul is praying that people would know something he simultaneously calls unknowable. He's not being careless with words. He's describing a love so vast that even fully grasping it still leaves you aware there's more beyond your grasp, the way you can stand at the ocean's edge and genuinely experience its vastness while knowing you're only seeing a fraction of it.
This is worth noticing, because so much of faith can slowly narrow into something manageable — beliefs we can articulate cleanly, practices we can check off, a relationship with God we can describe in a few tidy sentences. Paul's prayer refuses that kind of tidiness. He's not asking for a slightly deeper understanding. He's asking for believers to be "filled to the measure of all the fullness of God" — language that stretches past what any of us could reasonably expect to receive, and yet he asks for it anyway, without apology or hesitation.
Then comes the line most people know even if they've forgotten where it's from: "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us." Immeasurably more. Not slightly more than we hope for, not just enough to meet our expectations, but more than we could even think to ask for in the first place — and Paul locates the source of that "more" not somewhere distant, but already "at work within us."
It's worth noticing where Paul places this prayer in his letter. He's just spent two chapters unpacking identity, inclusion, and calling — and rather than rushing on to the next instruction, he pauses here, on his knees, letting worship catch up with everything he's just described. Sometimes that's exactly what a big truth needs before we're ready to keep walking with it: not another explanation, but a moment of simply asking God for more of what we've just glimpsed.
That's a posture worth carrying with you this week, even as there's more of this letter still ahead. Paul isn't finished writing, and this isn't a conclusion — it's a breath before he continues. But it's a good reminder that growth in faith doesn't always move forward through more information. Sometimes it moves forward through pausing long enough to ask God for more than you know how to ask for, trusting that He's already able to do immeasurably more than that.
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
Paul prays for believers to grasp a love that "surpasses knowledge." What would it look like to stop trying to fully understand God's love and instead simply ask to experience more of it?
Is there an area of your life where you've been asking God for too little, settling for manageable requests instead of trusting Him for "immeasurably more"?
Thinking back over identity, belonging, and calling, what's one thing you've glimpsed so far that you'd like to ask God to help you grasp more fully, even if you don't fully understand it yet?
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Father, we kneel before You, like Paul did, overwhelmed by how much bigger Your love is than we can fully understand. Strengthen us with power through Your Spirit, and root us deeply in a love that surpasses knowledge. Fill us with the fullness of who You are, not because we've earned it, but because You are able to do immeasurably more than we could ever ask or imagine. To You be glory, in the church and in Christ Jesus, for ever and ever. Amen.