Last night was our weekly prayer meeting.  It’s usually a small group of prayers who come to praise and pray for many needs.  We pray for our congregation and community, but we also pray for requests we receive from many others.  Folks in hospitals, a church in Mexico—folks from all over who share a request with one of our prayer team.  Those requests are prayed for and, whenever possible, followed up on.

Recently we’d been praying for a woman from our town with cancer.  She’d been having a very, very hard struggle.  Last night we received word her cancer was gone.  We’d also been praying for another woman with cancer—while its not gone, it is shrinking.  These updates reminded me of two amazing stories that come out of our Sunday night prayer meeting.

The first is an older woman with breathing problems.  When I first met her she was on oxygen.  She wore an oxygen tank to church, keeping a spare in the building just in case.  She needed the oxygen to survive.  We prayed for her for quite awhile, not just looking for a miracle, but for the grace to endure.  One Sunday she comes to church with no oxygen.  When I asked what was going on, I found out her most recent tests showed no need—her lungs were inexplicably working fine, again.  When pressed about it her Doctor confessed it must be a miracle.

The second is a young girl, dying from cancer.  This little girl didn’t just want prayer she also wanted answers.  I tried my best to answer her questions, and we prayed for her and her family.  Now, this little girl was not healed.  However, something even more amazing happened.  Before cancer claimed her, Christ claimed her.  This little girl accepted Christ, and even asked to be buried with one of the letters I wrote—so she could show it to God!  The peace with which she died, and this request led her parents—non-Christians—to ask their own questions.  Even though they lived two states away (they were in our area for her treatment) we prayed for them and put them in touch with a good church.

A few months later I received a letter from that little girl’s mom.  In it was a picture, which still sits on my desk, and a note.  That note shared how she and her husband came to know Christ, and how they could see God’s mercy.  She understood that her little girl died so that the girl, the mom and the dad could find eternal life.  She believed that it was a part of God’s plan, and though painful, worth it.

Those stories are why I pray.  I don’t claim to be a miracle worker; in fact I’d point to a couple of the other prayers whom I believe are the ones God is listening to.  However, I know that not only does He hear us, but also He acts.  I hope God allows you to see the impact your prayers have on others, so that you, too, might be encouraged to pray.