Have you ever walked through a season of suffering, confusion, or fear—and found that prayer was the only thing holding you together?

Prayer is not just a spiritual practice, it's a lifeline. And throughout the Old Testament, we see real people turning to God in raw, honest, and sometimes desperate ways.

In this post, we’ll look at three well-known figures—Hannah, Daniel, and David—and how they endured hardship through prayer. Their stories aren’t just ancient history; they’re powerful examples for our lives today.

Welcome, friend.

If you’re here, it’s likely because you love someone who has wandered—or because your own heart knows what it feels like to wait, hope, and pray through the ache of distance. You’ve prayed. You’ve wept. You’ve waited. And today, once again, you are choosing to press in.

In 2026, we are walking this road together.

Each Tuesday, we gather here to work through Prodigal Prayers: 52 Weeks of Praying Over the Prodigal—one week at a time, one Scripture, one prayer, one promise.

​There is no rushing here and no falling behind. Come when you can. Stay as long as you need. This is a place for steady faith, honest prayers, and hope that is anchored in our faithful God and refuses to give up.

Abiding in Christ is more than just a spiritual phrase—it is a way of life. Jesus invites us into a relationship of deep connection, where we remain in Him, and He remains in us. This abiding leads to a transformation that touches every area of our lives.

Scripture writing is a simple yet powerful way to abide in Christ because it slows us down and anchors our hearts in His Word. As we intentionally write out Scripture, we’re not just reading truth—we’re meditating on it, internalizing it, and allowing it to shape our thoughts and desires. This practice helps quiet the noise of the world, refocus our minds on who God is, and deepen our awareness of His presence. Over time, His Word begins to dwell richly within us, strengthening our faith and helping us remain rooted and connected to Him in every season.​

Welcome, friend.

If you’re here, it’s likely because you love someone who has wandered—or because your own heart knows what it feels like to wait, hope, and pray through the ache of distance. You’ve prayed. You’ve wept. You’ve waited. And today, once again, you are choosing to press in.

In 2026, we are walking this road together.

Each Tuesday, we gather here to work through Prodigal Prayers: 52 Weeks of Praying Over the Prodigal—one week at a time, one Scripture, one prayer, one promise.

​There is no rushing here and no falling behind. Come when you can. Stay as long as you need. This is a place for steady faith, honest prayers, and hope that is anchored in our faithful God and refuses to give up.

I’ll be the first to admit—I’m an over-thinker. It’s easy for me to get stuck in my own head, replaying conversations, interpreting situations, and second-guessing the choices I’ve made. I tend to analyze and rethink every detail, weighing outcomes, sorting everything into semi-neat categories, and trying to map out what I think is the “right” way forward.

But over time, the Lord has begun to show me what lies beneath all of that. So much of I attempt to take control of what feels uncertain—to hold it together, to figure it out on my own, to soothe my fear and anxiety by organizing everything in my mind.

The ironic thing is that all this self-talk or storytelling I do does just the opposite. For all the effort, it doesn’t bring the peace I’m looking for. Instead, it keeps me striving and circling the same thoughts and narratives in my mind. ​

Welcome, friend.

If you’re here, it’s likely because you love someone who has wandered—or because your own heart knows what it feels like to wait, hope, and pray through the ache of distance. You’ve prayed. You’ve wept. You’ve waited. And today, once again, you are choosing to press in.

In 2026, we are walking this road together.

Each Tuesday, we gather here to work through Prodigal Prayers: 52 Weeks of Praying Over the Prodigal—one week at a time, one Scripture, one prayer, one promise.

​There is no rushing here and no falling behind. Come when you can. Stay as long as you need. This is a place for steady faith, honest prayers, and hope that is anchored in our faithful God and refuses to give up.

There are moments in Scripture that feel especially weighty—where Heaven leans in and eternity speaks with urgency. The Olivet Discourse is one of those moments.

Delivered by Jesus Christ on the Mount of Olives, this teaching, recorded in the Gospels of Matthew (24–25), Mark (13), and Luke (21), is more than prophecy—it's a call to live differently right now. Spoken just days before the cross, Jesus’ words carry both warning and hope. He reveals what is to come—not to stir fear, but to anchor faith.

So why does the Olivet Discourse still matter today? Let's dive into that...