Jesus, I am here with my family at ISI, begging you to save. You promised to do a new thing; assured us it was already beginning—even when we can’t see it. We cry out in our suffering. Doubting. Hoping. Can you really make a way where there is none? Your life in our barrenness?
Creator God, if even the wild animals of the earth honor you – and you know their names – how much more can we hope. Shall you give living water to us beyond salvation? Surely it is your first gift for your chosen people, whom you formed, so that we may drink and worship. Yet could we dare believe you come for more? For abundance? When we are confronted with our daily scarcity?
Savior, in the struggle, in our darkness, may we return to you as our stronghold. Let us truly be prisoners of hope—looking forward to your promise of double restoration amidst our current devastation. Our fragile vessels hold such pain, such goodness. May our jars of clay, even shattered, unexpected: be greater displays of your glory.
Spirit, you lift our vision to the nations. You call us to share your good news with our international brothers and sisters who have no hope—know not your name. May we bandage their wounds and give your light to them enchained in darkness. Let this be the year of your favor, Lord God, the day of your vengeance.
Shepherd who watches over us, we are weak, but you are strong. If this is to be our fate, then let grace go with us. Against the spiritual forces of evil, cast down satan’s attacks and confound every plan. Prevail in your might, be with us.
Father, comfort us as we go out weeping to serve you. Please fulfill your promise that we will not return empty. As we grieve, suffer, lose, die. Remember us, our blood, our tears. Give us your vision, so that we will not give up, knowing you will reward us. May we see the faces of our international family with you in heaven. For we struggle in our flesh, torn living as people with nothing and yet having everything.
King of Kings, as you have promised, bless us with beauty instead of destruction—and joy instead of our sorrow. O Son who wept with us, bled with us, please see us, hear our cries. I pray that we can rise with you in praise instead of our despair. May we be a towering sign: the beginnings of your splendor and goodness.
Ancient of Days, help us rebuild the ancient ruins, our lineage from one father and mother in perfect unity with you. Restore our one faith in you. Help us build up the shattered and lost faith of our international brothers and sisters. May generations of servitude to the ruler of this world be broken with ears unstopped, eyes opened, and listening hearts. Instead of shame, let redemption be double. Instead of disgrace, your children prepared to share everlasting joy with you.
Holy One, we are wounded and dying. Clothe these mortal bodies with your salvation; I weep at your goodness. Wrap us in your robe of righteousness with rest under the shelter of your wings. For you have promised, may it be, that even as all growing things produce fruit, so shall your righteousness pass through all nations.
(Inspired and drawn from 1 Corinthians 4:7; John 12:31; Isaiah 61; Zechariah 9:12; Isaiah 43; John 10:10; 2 Corinthians 12:9; Psalm 126:6; 2 Corinthians 6:10; Galatians 6:9; Isaiah 25:4).
