Scripture reminds us again and again of the power and necessity of prayer. Yet when we face the hardest moments of our lives, our instinct is often to retreat— to hide our pain, to grow quiet, to fight alone. But that was never God’s intention.
In the very first month of our journey, I bought a book called Prayer: Our Glorious Privilege by Chuck Smith. It included a battle plan, and at the time that structure and guidance became a lifeline for me.
One of the first decisions we made after learning our daughter had been diagnosed with brain cancer was to gather our prayer warriors—family, friends, anyone willing to intercede on our behalf. I wanted every believer on earth to know. I needed them to know. Our number one prayer request has always been for our daughter to be completely healed here on earth, as it is in heaven. We are beyond blessed to have people who are willing to stand in the gap, cry out to the Lord, and lift our family up day after day.
Do you have a church you call home?
One of our first calls was to our pastor. We asked him to pray, and to let the congregation know we desperately needed prayer. We have never publicly shared the official diagnosis; saying “there is no cure yet, and it is inoperable” was enough for our community to understand the urgency. We chose not to release the full diagnosis out of protection for our daughter and her sisters. “Dr. Google” loves worst-case scenarios, and those statistics do not include God. They do not include His plans, His power, or the breakthroughs that may be unfolding even before they reach the public. There are new trials and treatments emerging constantly—research that takes a year or more before the world even hears about it. The internet rarely gives hope. But God does.
Our church holds worship nights throughout the year, and one was scheduled just a month and a half after her diagnosis—on a Wednesday night in October. I asked our pastor if we could turn that night into a prayer service for healing. He graciously said yes. “Let’s do a worship and prayer night for everyone who needs healing.”
At least four hundred people came. The church was filled with our daughter’s friends, families from our community, and believers who felt drawn to pray. We sang In Jesus’ Name by Katie Nicole at least three times. We prayed for healing over every single person that needed healing in that room. It felt like a battle cry. Even now, I thank God for every voice that rose on our child’s behalf. Their prayers meant more than I can ever express.
Don’t stop praying.
1 Thessalonians 5:17 says, “pray without ceasing.” Before this battle, I prayed daily, but not like I do now. My prayers rise throughout the day. Sometimes every hour:
“Please, God…”
“Heal her completely, Lord.”
“God, I need You.”
“Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1 Samuel 3:9)
They’re not always long, polished, or eloquent—but I finally understand what it means to pray without ceasing.
Ask God to align your prayers with His will. It sounds simple, but it is can be hard to do. Scripture is filled with stories of Jesus and His disciples healing people. I believe these accounts reveal not just God’s power, but His heart—His compassion, His mercy, His love. He wanted to heal in the Bible, just as He desires to heal now.
And lastly, be honest with God. He already knows how you feel.
Sometimes I feel guilty for my honesty because, truthfully, I’ve sounded like a spoiled child at times. My daughter is thriving, asymptomatic, a walking miracle—and still I find myself asking, “Are You ready to wrap this up yet? I’m tired, Lord. I know You can say her name and make the scan clear.”
His ways are not our ways. That’s a hard truth to sit with. But I go back to what I know: He is loving, compassionate, merciful—and His timing is not ours. Whether I like it or not, He is building our daughter, our family, and even me, for something I can’t yet understand. My personal challenge is to “find joy in the prep work.” I fail often. But I’m trying. And this is where I pray for strength to honor Him in our story.
As I write this blog, one of my fears is hurting anyone who has walked a similar path but did not receive the outcome they prayed for. The unanswered prayers—the ones answered in ways we never wanted—are the hardest ones to speak into. In the last two years, I prayed fervently for a boy who captured my heart, and for a girl I had adored since she was young. Both fought bravely. Both loved the Lord. Their families prayed, their communities interceded. Yet within three weeks, both went home to Jesus.
I don’t know why God called them home early.
But I know this:
They are healed now—held in the most beautiful place, where pain can no longer touch them. That truth brings a measure of peace, yet I can’t begin to imagine the depth of the ache their loved ones carry as they navigate each new day without them. Those heartaches go on my "why God?" list, answers I may never know until it is my time to be called home.
Isaiah 55:8–9
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
Everyone who loves the Lord has a calling—a purpose designed before we were formed in the womb. We are all running our own race. It is easy to get lost in comparison or to let devastation crush our hope. But prayer is what carries me through those moments. Prayer quiets my fear. Prayer is my emergency call in the moments I need God most.