Prayer
United in Prayer is a global prayer movement including 777, 10 Days of Prayer, and 100 Days of Prayer in which hundreds of thousands of people have participated.
This Week's United in Prayer Blog
“I’m praying that you move here.” Shocked, I asked the friendly stranger to repeat her words. I had retired just a few weeks prior, at least on paper, and my little schnauzer and I were on a six-week road trip. That Sabbath, I landed in northeast Washington to visit friends and attended a church in Chewelah, Washington, for the first time. Shirley, the church organist that day, turned around from her pew to ask, “Who are you?” She knew only three things about me when she spoke the words that would take me on another adventure with the Lord: 1. My name is Debi. 2. I’m from Michigan. 3. Barry and Anita are my friends...
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Previous Prayer Blogs
God Help Me!
As a small girl, Alla didn’t understand what Grandmother was doing when she knelt before icons in their home in the Soviet republic of Uzbekistan. “I’m praying,” Grandmother said. “Why are you praying?” Alla asked. “Who are you praying to?” “I’m praying to the God who lives in heaven,” Grandmother said. “We need to love Him because He loves us. We need to fear Him.” Grandmother had a crucifix of Jesus on the wall, and Alla asked who was hanging on it. “That is Jesus, our God,” Grandmother said...
Charcoal and a Prayer
“Please help! Come fast!” A man came running to Deborah’s home one morning in early May. “Sayuma, Sayuma, Sayuma! (Respected Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!) Simeon has drunk poison and is dying! Please help! Come fast!” “Dear God, please show me what to do,” prayed Deborah. She remembered that her friend had sent her five packets of charcoal powder to detox the body from poisoning and to use for other treatments. Quickly she grabbed one of the packets and ran to Simeon's house. He had vomited and was lying there, unable to move...
Touching His Hem
“Auntie, Grandma has started bleeding in her fingers again.” I sensed fear and despair in the caregiver’s voice as she spoke to me over the phone. “What can we do?” I sat there motionless, without any concrete answer for the issue at hand. Two years ago, my mother suffered an ischemic stroke. This life-threatening condition had cut off blood flow to the brain, killing brain cells, and left her left leg and arm paralyzed. To minimize the risk of reoccurrence, she was put on blood thinners to keep her blood from clotting too easily...
