By Cameron Healey
What follows is not a complete account. It is a glimpse.
Over the past five years, our church has been learning — sometimes slowly, sometimes painfully — what happens when prayer is no longer treated as an addition, but as a foundation. In 2021, we named becoming a prayerful community as a defining focus for our church. We did not know where that decision would lead us. We only knew that God was inviting us back to dependence.
That choice set us on a journey that continues to shape us.
Our first step came in July 2022, when we opened a prayer room during business hours. It was simple, quiet, and unassuming — but something shifted almost immediately. People didn’t rush in and out. They lingered. They returned. Words began to surface again and again: peace, freedom, presence. People spoke of feeling nourished, refocused, and deeply aware of God’s nearness.
As hunger grew, so did our sense that God was asking us to widen the space.
After seasons of listening and discernment, that invitation took fuller shape in November 2024 with the opening of a 24/7 Prayer Room, accessible day and night. Prayer was no longer confined to office hours or church calendars. It became available — always.
What has unfolded since cannot be captured in statistics alone, though even those tell astory. More than 600 hours have already been spent by people simply sitting with Jesus. Within that time, marriages have been restored, addictions broken, and families reunited.
Yet much of what God has done has been quieter — deeply personal moments that have left lasting marks.
People describe entering the Prayer Room and immediately sensing peace. Some speak of a profound stillness, others of joy, others of being gently undone in God’s presence. One person described sitting in prayer when a beam of sunlight streamed through the window, filling the room at the very moment they felt the nearness of the Holy Spirit. Another shared that the Prayer Room felt like a place of freedom — no judgement, no distraction — where they could simply be themselves with the Lord.
The space itself invites prayer that engages the whole person. Gratitude and intercession are written directly onto the white brick walls, forming a growing testimony of thanksgiving and hope. Confessions are written and then physically shredded — a simple but powerful act of surrender and release. Some paint images that emerge in prayer. Others write prayers on the walls, adding their voices to a living story of intercession.
Many choose stillness — sitting or lying on the floor, resting quietly in God’s presence. Others contemplate the scriptural artwork spread throughout the room, slowly reading Scripture through image and colour. Shelves of books invite reflection and renewal. Communion is shared quietly, grounding prayer in Christ’s presence and sacrifice.
For some, the Prayer Room has become a place of first steps. People have prayed out loud for the first time. Others have found the courage to pray with someone else — sharing honestly, vulnerably, and discovering that prayer binds hearts together. Parents have watched their children pray. Friends have returned week after week, finding the space both grounding and life-giving.
And these are only some of the stories.
Shortly after the 24/7 Prayer Room opened, I was walking through our local neighbourhood, praying for the homes and businesses around us. As I turned a corner beside a large housing commission complex, I prayed a simple prayer:
“God, there must be hundreds of people living here. How do we reach them? How do we
share You with them?”
I noticed a woman sitting alone on a bench outside the building. For reasons I still can’t explain, I didn’t stop to speak with her. I simply kept walking and praying.
The following Sunday, that same woman was sitting in the pews at church.
Months later, I learned that no one had invited her. That morning, she had simply felt an inner prompting that she needed to be in church. She walked to the closest one — ours.
That Sunday, I spoke about the 24/7 Prayer Room. That afternoon, a notification came through: the Prayer Room had been booked for 6am the next morning.
For the next three months, she booked the Prayer Room almost every morning at 6am. Two weeks into those early mornings, she came to faith — alone in the Prayer Room, meeting God in stillness and surrender. No one explained doctrine. No one told her what to believe. She encountered God.
Four months after I first saw her sitting on that bench, I baptised her.
Her testimony was simple: no one told her about God. She met God — in the quiet, faithful hours spent in the Prayer Room.
This is not the whole story.
It is a window into what happens when the Church makes space and trusts the Holy Spirit to do the drawing. When prayer is central, lives are changed — sometimes dramatically, often quietly, always deeply.
We are convinced that God is calling His Church to something deeper than programs or activity — to seek Him together, listen for His voice, and follow where He leads.
This story is not a singular miracle. It is a pattern. It is an invitation to step into the work God is already doing and to partner with Him in seeing lives transformed, communities healed, and faith renewed.
Join us in seeking God, in opening space for His Spirit, and in listening for His will. Let us make room — together — for what only He can accomplish.