The Prayer Porch

Author: The Prayer Porch

  • Three Generations, One Story: The Magic of Wicked

    Three Generations, One Story: The Magic of Wicked

    Daily writing prompt
    What was the last thing you did for play or fun?
    View all responses

    The last thing I did purely for joy was going to see Wicked: For Good with my daughter and my mother – three generations, one story, and a theater full of wonder.

    The film felt both grand and intimate. Familiar melodies carried new depth, and the story unfolded with tenderness, courage, and heart. What moved me most was how it honored friendship – the kind that grows through misunderstanding, loyalty, and love while also inviting compassion for those who are often misjudged.

    There was laughter, emotion, and that quiet moment afterward when you sit together, letting the experience linger. It wasn’t just a movie; it was shared time, shared feeling, and a reminder that joy doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it looks like sitting beside the people you love, watching a story that reminds you to see differently and love generously 💗 💚

  • Is Your Life Today What You Pictured a Year Ago?

    Daily writing prompt
    Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?
    View all responses

    A year ago, I couldn’t have fully imagined the quiet clarity I feel today. On the surface, much looks the same. I’m still working for the same company as a lifestyle coach, and I continue to work per diem as a CNA. But inwardly, something has shifted.

    I feel more grounded. Less hurried. Less concerned with keeping up with the noise of the world. I’ve grown content with a simpler rhythm – quiet mornings, time to read, moments spent creating with my hands. Home feels like a place of refuge rather than something to rush away from.

    I don’t take time for granted the way I once did. There is a deeper awareness now – that each day is a gift, not a given. And in that awareness, gratitude has taken root. Not the loud kind that announces itself, but the steady kind that settles into the soul.

    I’m learning that a meaningful life doesn’t always look dramatic or impressive. Sometimes it looks like faithfulness, presence, and doing what you love with a thankful heart.

    Perhaps growth isn’t always about becoming more – but about becoming more aware.

    As you look at your life today, what quiet shifts are you grateful for, even if they don’t look like what you once imagined?

  • Understanding Grace: A Biblical Perspective on Rejoicing

    Understanding Grace: A Biblical Perspective on Rejoicing

    Grace is not a small or quiet thing in Scripture. In Romans 5, Paul tells us that grace does more than save us – it reorients what we rejoice in.

    Because of Christ, we are no longer enemies brought near by our own effort. “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Grace is God’s initiative, not our achievement. And because of that, our rejoicing is not rooted in self-confidence, but in His work alone.

    Paul uses a word that feels almost startling: to boast.

    The Greek word kauchēma (kow-khay-mah) means to glory in, to rejoice over, to take pride in. It’s not the loud, self-centered boasting we often think of but a settled confidence that rests in something sure. Grace gives us something holy to boast in: what Christ has done, not what we have accomplished.

    This kind of rejoicing doesn’t ignore suffering or sin. It looks directly at them and still stands firm.

    James echoes this posture when he writes, “Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:2). That word joy comes from chara (khar-ah), meaning deep gladness, great joyfulness. It’s not a denial of pain, but a trust that God is present and working within it.

    James also warns of a divided heart – a double-mindedness that keeps us unstable (James 1:8). Grace invites us into wholeness. It calls us to live with one steady gaze: not fixed on the chaos of the world, but on the faithfulness of God.

    And yes – we live in a world saturated with sin, confusion, and noise. But grace is not weakened by darkness. Paul reminds us that where sin increased, grace increased all the more. Grace does not excuse sin – it overcomes it.

    For the believer today, living in grace looks like this:

    • Rejoicing without pretending life is easy
    • Boasting only in the Lord’s mercy, not our own strength
    • Choosing joy that is rooted, not reactive
    • Remaining tender-hearted without becoming double-minded

    Grace teaches us how to stand – humble, confident, and deeply anchored in a broken world.

    This is the quiet beauty of grace: it doesn’t make us loud; it makes us secure.

    Lord,
    Thank You for grace that met us when we were far off
    and continues to meet us each day where we are.
    Teach us to rejoice not in ourselves,
    but in Your mercy, Your faithfulness, and Your finished work.

    In a world filled with noise, temptation, and division,
    anchor our hearts in truth.
    Help us live with steady joy – not shallow happiness,
    but the deep joy that comes from trusting You.

    May our lives quietly boast in what You have done,
    and may grace shape how we walk, speak, and love.
    We rest in You today.
    Amen.

  • The Balance of Trust and Discernment in Life

    Daily writing prompt
    Are you a good judge of character?
    View all responses

    I’ve learned that I’m not so much a judge of character as I am a giver of trust. I tend to believe people are sincere until something shows me otherwise. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and for a long time I assumed everyone else did too.

    That way of seeing the world has brought both connection and pain. It has taught me that openness is a gift but discernment is a practice. Trust doesn’t have to disappear; it just needs time, boundaries, and wisdom to grow.

    I’m learning that being tender-hearted doesn’t mean being naïve. It means choosing to remain loving while also listening closely to actions, not just words.

  • If you could be anything, be kind.

    If you could be anything, be kind.

    Daily writing prompt
    Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.
    View all responses

    I would hope people would say that when they were with me, they felt seen, heard, and safe – that I met them with kindness and made space for who they really were.

  • All too well.

    All too well.

    There are people who leave an imprint on us not because of what they say, but because of how they live. This man was one of those people for me. His faith was not loud or performative. It was steady, quiet, and deeply rooted. He never centered himself in conversation. He did not speak in terms of “I,” but instead turned his attention outward, asking how I was doing and what I needed. In his presence, I felt seen rather than evaluated.

    He had a way of listening that went beyond words. He noticed the pauses, the hesitations, the things left unsaid. He could read between the lines with compassion and wisdom, offering care that felt timely and gentle. I believe this attentiveness was not simply a personality trait, but the fruit of a life led by the Holy Spirit. His discernment reflected a heart that had learned to be still, to listen, and to respond with love rather than impulse.

    What struck me most was his humility. There was no need to impress or instruct. His faith showed itself in kindness, patience, and presence. He embodied the kind of walk with the Lord that does not draw attention to itself, but quietly points others toward God. Through him, I caught a glimpse of what it looks like when someone is truly surrendered, when their words and actions are shaped by something deeper than ego or agenda.

    His impact on my life was subtle but lasting. He reminded me that faith is not proven through declarations, but through attentiveness. Not through speaking first, but through listening well. Not through striving, but through being led. His life reflected the truth that when we walk closely with God, the Holy Spirit does the speaking, the guiding, and the work of love through us.

    I am grateful for the example he set. It continues to shape the way I hope to show up for others. May I listen more than I speak, notice what lies beneath the surface, and remain humble enough to be led. May my own walk reflect the same quiet faithfulness that once ministered so deeply to me.

  • Walking with Jesus: Faith Grows Through Curiosity

    Walking with Jesus: Faith Grows Through Curiosity

    Curiosity is often where faith begins. Not with certainty. Not with all the answers. But with a quiet wondering. Who is Jesus, really? If you find yourself asking that question, even softly, you are not alone. Luke shows us that many who encountered Jesus were unsure, searching, and still learning what it meant to follow Him.

    In Luke 9, Jesus sends out His disciples with almost nothing. No extra supplies. No safety net. It’s an unsettling way to begin, especially for those of us who crave clarity before commitment. Yet Luke the Evangelist reveals something important: trust is not formed before the journey – it is formed while walking it. For those who are curious about Jesus but hesitant to fully believe, this can be reassuring. Faith is not a prerequisite for the journey; it often grows along the way.

    Later, a large crowd gathers, hungry and uncertain. The disciples see scarcity – too many people, too little food. But Jesus sees possibility. With a small offering placed in His hands, abundance follows. This moment speaks gently to those who feel they don’t have enough to offer – enough belief, enough understanding, enough goodness. Luke reminds us that Jesus does not ask for perfection. He asks for honesty. What feels insufficient in our hands can become more than enough when surrendered.

    Then Jesus asks a question that lingers: “Who do you say I am?”

    This is not a test. It is an invitation. Some answer with confidence. Others with confusion. Some are not ready to answer at all. And still, Jesus continues walking with them. Grace is present long before certainty ever arrives.

    When Jesus speaks about taking up the cross and following Him, His words can feel heavy – especially to those who have been hurt by rigid or fear-based faith. But in Luke, this call is not about losing ourselves; it is about discovering a truer way to live. Jesus invites us out of self-protection and into trust, out of control and into relationship. He never forces belief. He invites participation.

    What stands out most in Luke is Jesus’ posture. He feeds the hungry. He welcomes questions. He walks patiently with imperfect people. He does not demand immediate understanding or flawless faith. He offers presence.

    If you are curious about Jesus, you do not need to rush toward conclusions. You can linger. You can question. You can observe. You can simply stay near the story and notice what stirs in your heart. Many of those closest to Jesus began exactly there- watching, listening, wondering.

    Faith rarely begins with certainty. More often, it begins with a quiet maybe.

    And Luke reminds us that even this is enough to begin.

    If you are curious about Jesus, you are not outside the story. You are standing at the doorway of an invitation – one marked by patience, compassion, and grace. And Jesus is not asking you to have it all figured out. He is simply inviting you to walk with Him, one gentle step at a time.

    At the heart of all that happens in Luke, we are left with a quiet invitation that meets us in the everyday.

    “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.’”
    Luke 9:23

    With love, from the porch,
    Laura

  • Needlepointing

    Needlepointing

    Daily writing prompt
    What skills or lessons have you learned recently?
    View all responses


    Needlepointing! A decorative needlework tradition with roots that reach back thousands of years, evolving alongside human creativity and craftsmanship. Its earliest forms can be traced to ancient Egypt and the Middle East, where embroidered textiles were used both for practical purposes and artistic expression. During the Renaissance, needlepoint flourished in Europe as a refined art, often worked on canvas with wool or silk threads to create detailed tapestries, cushions, and wall hangings for churches and wealthy households. By the 17th and 18th centuries, it became a popular domestic craft, especially among women, valued for both its beauty and its meditative rhythm. Today, needlepoint continues to bridge past and present, honoring tradition while allowing modern stitchers to tell new stories, one careful stitch at a time.

  • Finding Sacred Space in Sorrow

    Finding Sacred Space in Sorrow

    There are moments when the world feels especially tender.

    As a Jewish holiday begins, marked by remembrance, reflection, and sacred pause, we are also aware of heartbreaking violence in the world. These moments often arrive together. Holy days do not wait for the world to be at peace, and grief does not pause for the calendar. Both meet us where we are.

    On the Prayer Porch, we do not rush to explain or resolve. We simply sit. We notice. We breathe. We allow sorrow and sacredness to share the same space, trusting that God is present in both.

    Today, this porch is a place of quiet witness. A place to hold grief with tenderness and to honor sacred time with humility. A place where prayer does not try to fix the world, but offers it back to God with open hands.

    A Porch Prayer

    God of all people and all times,
    we come to You aware that the world is hurting.
    As some enter sacred days of remembrance and hope,
    others are waking to shock, grief, and fear.

    We do not have words that make sense of this.
    We only ask for Your nearness
    to those who mourn,
    to those who feel unsafe,
    and to those whose hearts feel heavy with questions.

    Teach us how to hold sorrow with tenderness
    and sacred time with humility.
    Meet us here, on the porch,
    where we pause, breathe, and remember
    that love still matters.

    Amen.

    In seasons where sacred time and sorrow meet, may we choose presence, compassion, and prayer over certainty.


    With love,
    Laura

  • Simple Sourdough Sandwich Bread

    Simple Sourdough Sandwich Bread

    There is something deeply comforting about working a small bowl of dough with your hands, watching it come together slowly and patiently. Sourdough has a way of slowing us down – of inviting us to breathe, to soften, to remember that good things often rise in their own time.

    On the Prayer Porch, we often talk about the holiness of simple things: light on a windowsill, a warm mug between your hands, a loaf of bread cooling on the counter. Bread feels like a small miracle – flour, water, and salt turning into something nourishing, warm, and shared.

    And maybe that’s why making sourdough feels like prayer.
    It teaches patience.
    It invites trust.
    It reminds us that rest, waiting, and quiet growth are not wasted time.

    If you’re longing for something simple and grounding to bake this week, here is a gentle sourdough loaf you can make in a bread pan, perfect for sandwiches.

    Ingredients

    • 100g active sourdough starter
    • 360g warm filtered water
    • 400g all-purpose flour + 100g oat flour
    • 10g salt
    • Bread pan (optional but recommended):

    Prepare the Dough

    1. In a large bowl, add 100g active sourdough starter.
    2. Add 360g warm filtered water and stir until dissolved.
    3. Add 500g flour and 10g salt. Mix with your hands until no dry pockets remain.
    4. Cover the bowl with a cloth and rest for 1 hour.
    5. Perform 4 rounds of stretch-and-folds, every 30 minutes.
    6. After the fourth round, cover and let it bulk ferment on the counter for about 2 hours, or until the dough has risen 50–75%. (Warmer homes may rise faster.)

    Shaping

    1. Lightly flour the counter.
    2. Shape the dough into a rectangle. Fold one side toward the center, then the other, and roll it up into a loose ball. Tighten the shape gently by pulling the dough toward you in a circular motion 3–4 times.
      Let rest 30 minutes.
    3. Repeat the shaping one more time.
      Place the dough seam-side up into a loaf pan dusted with white rice flour.

    Proofing

    1. Cover with a towel or plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator for up to 48 hours to cold-proof.

    Baking

    1. Preheat oven to 375°F.
    2. Bake covered for 35 minutes.
    3. Uncover and bake for an additional 10 minutes.
    4. Remove from the pan and let cool at least 1 hour before slicing.

    A Prayer as the Bread Rises

    Lord,
    Teach us to trust the slow work of rising.
    Help us to rest when we are tempted to rush,
    to soften when life feels hard,
    and to remember that small, quiet growth is still growth.
    Bless the hands who bake,
    the home this bread fills,
    and the hearts gathered around the table.
    Amen.