One of these “diversions” I use to break the monotony is hypermiling—the practice of trying to get the highest MPG (miles per gallon) on a drive. It’s about improving fuel efficiency and squeezing out every last bit of potential, kind of like getting the final squeeze from a nearly empty toothpaste tube.

No matter what profession we’re in, we’re often trained to improve products and processes—to optimize while also considering trade-offs like cost, complexity, or long-term impact. Many of us begin to look at the world through that lens. Some people call this “the value of experience” or “the school of hard knocks.”

So on my drive to work, I experiment with different driving styles to find out what actually helps improve fuel efficiency. Does full-throttle acceleration over a short distance improve gas mileage, since internal combustion engines are more thermally efficient at wide-open throttle due to reduced pumping losses? Or is the old advice of “light on the throttle” for a longer time actually better?

To save you some suspense, I’ve measured the results: light acceleration over a longer period gives me about 20% better fuel economy in my hybrid vehicle compared to short bursts of heavy acceleration. Either way, I still get to and from work—but the small decisions I make along the way affect both the trip’s efficiency and secondary outcomes, like how often I need to refuel.

So, what does all this have to do with our spiritual life?

Yesterday, a close friend of mine said something that caught my attention:

“Prayer must have a strategy. Love must have a boundary. Faith must be refined.”

The second and third parts—about love and faith—resonated immediately. Profound yet simple reminders. But the first part, “Prayer must have a strategy,” gave me pause.

Up to that point, I had often prayed with an end goal in mind, not a strategy. That statement challenged me to begin thinking about what it means to pray strategically.

It’s something new for me, and something I plan to work on. Just as I wouldn’t build a house without a blueprint, or cook a meal without a recipe or meal plan, I believe God is showing me that my prayer life can also benefit from a deliberate strategy.