Pray together. Pray privately.

He had a hard week at school — sensory overload on Tuesday, then a misunderstanding with a classmate on Thursday. The teachers are kind but stretched. Pray for one breakthrough this month, and for a steady friend. He doesn't need many. He needs one.

It has been heavy. Pray for one good morning, then the next.

Hospice last Wednesday. He still has good hours. He told a joke yesterday and we all laughed too hard, the way you do. My mother is sleeping next to him every night. My brother flew in from Sydney; he hadn't seen our father since Christmas and now they are catching up on twenty years in whispered conversations between…

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…

Pray for rest for the whole household.

The doctors said it would take six weeks. We are at week ten. She is still in pain most mornings and stubborn about her medication — wants to do without it, then crashes by lunchtime. Yesterday she cried for the first time. We sat at the kitchen table for an hour, not saying much. Pray for her body to heal. But more t…

Memory and peace under pressure. Pray for steadiness.

Pray for sufficiency and for peace.

Two real options on the table. Both could work. Both have shadows. Pray for clarity rather than certainty — I keep waiting to feel sure, and the feeling isn't coming. Pray for the wisdom to choose with the information I have, and the courage to live with whichever choice.

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…

We have come through one almost-match and one full match that fell through at the last week. We don't know what to call any of it now — hope, grief, tiredness. All of those at once on most days. Pray for our future child wherever they are tonight. Pray for their first family, whose own story we will never fully know. P…

It still doesn't feel real most mornings. I open my phone to text her about something silly maybe twice a week. Then I remember. Some days I am okay. I work, I cook, I laugh at a thing on the radio. Other days I am ambushed by a song or a smell or someone who looks a little like her from behind, and I have to sit down…

Seen, even when it is quiet. Held, even when no one knows. May this prayer find you wherever you are sitting tonight, and may it land like a hand on your shoulder.

May rest find you tonight. May tomorrow be a little gentler.

We didn't tell them how stretched we are; they wouldn't accept the help if they knew. Pray for sufficiency for everyone. Pray for me to do this without resentment, even on the months when it is hard. They gave us everything they had once.

He had a hard week at school — sensory overload on Tuesday, then a misunderstanding with a classmate on Thursday. The teachers are kind but stretched. Pray for one breakthrough this month, and for a steady friend. He doesn't need many. He needs one.

It's about boundaries — too much overtime and not enough thanks for it. I have been carrying it for months and I am not good at saying the hard thing. Pray for honest words from me and an open mind from him. Pray for both of us not to default to defensiveness.

I don't know the details. Pray for them anyway.

We didn't tell them how stretched we are; they wouldn't accept the help if they knew. Pray for sufficiency for everyone. Pray for me to do this without resentment, even on the months when it is hard. They gave us everything they had once.

Seen, even when it is quiet. Held, even when no one knows. May this prayer find you wherever you are sitting tonight, and may it land like a hand on your shoulder.

Such a tender world. We can do small good things.

Pray for steadiness through today.

Twelve people. I can keep eight. Officially the announcement is next Tuesday. I have known for three weeks and have been carrying it alone, which has not been good for my sleep or my marriage. Three of the four I have to let go are people I respect deeply. One is a single parent. One has a chronic illness in his famil…

We hadn't spoken properly in four years. Long story, dumb story; it started with an argument about our father's money and ended with neither of us willing to be the first to call. I called yesterday. He picked up on the second ring like he had been waiting. We talked for two hours. We cried. We laughed about something…

Seen, even when it is quiet. Held, even when no one knows. May this prayer find you wherever you are sitting tonight, and may it land like a hand on your shoulder.

I don't know the details. Pray for them anyway.

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…