FAITHFUL

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Prayer REQuest or Testimonies

by: Shannon Shepherd.

02/18/2026

0


Part 1: Free Fall



Saturday, May 31st at 6:28 p.m., I received a text from my landlord:


“Hello, do you know when your lease is up?”

Not exactly the most comforting message to get. But I remembered there had been a paperwork mix-up during our last renewal that pushed the date back from July. I scrolled through our old messages and found it: September 29th.

Then the next text came.

“Ok I have bad news. I am going to sell this unit and will ask you guys to vacate once the lease is up.”

My heart stopped. Several unpleasant thoughts fought for dominance in my mind. I tried to stay strong. I was lost. Soundly. Every day at 6:30 p.m. (now 5:30), I stop whatever I am doing to read Scripture or pray. That day the news knocked me so far off balance that it was already 6:45 and I had not even thought about it. Time to change that. I grabbed my iPad and opened to 2 Samuel. David was on the run from Saul. Nothing about it was particularly soothing, yet my spirit began to settle. The Word cut straight through the chaos. Then I switched to rational mode. What is the market rent for a similar place in this area? The answer floored me. Because we had lived here so long, we were paying about $700 below market value.                       Panic crept back in.

Part 2: Rational Panic

Haunted by the math, I broke the problem into parts:


  1. Where am I going to get an extra $700 a month?
  2. How much is moving going to cost?
  3. Where are we going to go?

Problem one was painful but solvable. I had recently gotten a better-paying job. It would require serious adjustment, but it was not fatal. Part of that adjustment meant getting rid of our storage unit, which originally held Christmas decorations but had somehow evolved into a time capsule stretching back to the 1960s. That is not a typo. Problem two was heavier. A new lease meant a security deposit, usually one and a half times the rent, sometimes plus first month’s rent. All while still paying my current rent. And I knew I would need movers. I am not 20 anymore, and moving 44 years of accumulated life with a U-Haul was not happening. When I added up the estimates, the number was large enough to turn a few more hairs gray. Problem three was the search. 

I calculated how much I would need to save each month to hit the deadline. Food? Electricity? Who needs them? That is so 2024, right? Right?  Every day I searched listings. Every evening I decluttered. Every weekend I emptied storage, carload by carload, sorting through decades of life to decide what to keep, shred, or release. And in the middle of all this was my mom. Stability is critical for someone with Alzheimer’s. The thought of moving her into an unfamiliar environment terrified me. She called daily, asking if she could bring home a newspaper to help look for places.  It broke my heart and frustrated me at the same time.

Only God kept me upright. Then one Saturday, I found something promising, an identical unit in the building next to ours. They accepted applications directly through the app I was using. Is this it? I tempered my excitement and applied. The realtor responded quickly. We spoke on Sunday. It felt more than promising. Monday, I opened the app as fast as I could.  “Your application has been declined.”

Part 3: He Is

Saturday, July 16th, 2025. After several more false starts, I was in morning prayer when a thought entered my mind: “Go back to your landlord and explain everything.” So I did. He said he would see what he could do and get back to me Wednesday. Hope returned. I called my pastor. We prayed. I felt led to give one-fourth of what I had saved as a declaration of faith. I do not need this anymore.

 Wednesday came. No response. Thursday. Nothing. Friday. Silence. Saturday, back in prayer, I said: “I know You have this. I do not know how, but I know You have this.” Then I felt the whisper: “You know the rest of the money you have saved? Give it to her.” She was a close friend I mentor in the faith who urgently needed a new tire for her truck. I agreed immediately. But once prayer ended, doubt began to whisper, just like in the garden. “Did He really say…?”

I delayed. I rationalized. I told myself I would do it later. In the bathroom, I was listening to a prayer on YouTube that confirmed what I had already heard. I stopped the video. I obeyed. Less than fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzed.


“You guys can stay.!"



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Part 1: Free Fall



Saturday, May 31st at 6:28 p.m., I received a text from my landlord:


“Hello, do you know when your lease is up?”

Not exactly the most comforting message to get. But I remembered there had been a paperwork mix-up during our last renewal that pushed the date back from July. I scrolled through our old messages and found it: September 29th.

Then the next text came.

“Ok I have bad news. I am going to sell this unit and will ask you guys to vacate once the lease is up.”

My heart stopped. Several unpleasant thoughts fought for dominance in my mind. I tried to stay strong. I was lost. Soundly. Every day at 6:30 p.m. (now 5:30), I stop whatever I am doing to read Scripture or pray. That day the news knocked me so far off balance that it was already 6:45 and I had not even thought about it. Time to change that. I grabbed my iPad and opened to 2 Samuel. David was on the run from Saul. Nothing about it was particularly soothing, yet my spirit began to settle. The Word cut straight through the chaos. Then I switched to rational mode. What is the market rent for a similar place in this area? The answer floored me. Because we had lived here so long, we were paying about $700 below market value.                       Panic crept back in.

Part 2: Rational Panic

Haunted by the math, I broke the problem into parts:


  1. Where am I going to get an extra $700 a month?
  2. How much is moving going to cost?
  3. Where are we going to go?

Problem one was painful but solvable. I had recently gotten a better-paying job. It would require serious adjustment, but it was not fatal. Part of that adjustment meant getting rid of our storage unit, which originally held Christmas decorations but had somehow evolved into a time capsule stretching back to the 1960s. That is not a typo. Problem two was heavier. A new lease meant a security deposit, usually one and a half times the rent, sometimes plus first month’s rent. All while still paying my current rent. And I knew I would need movers. I am not 20 anymore, and moving 44 years of accumulated life with a U-Haul was not happening. When I added up the estimates, the number was large enough to turn a few more hairs gray. Problem three was the search. 

I calculated how much I would need to save each month to hit the deadline. Food? Electricity? Who needs them? That is so 2024, right? Right?  Every day I searched listings. Every evening I decluttered. Every weekend I emptied storage, carload by carload, sorting through decades of life to decide what to keep, shred, or release. And in the middle of all this was my mom. Stability is critical for someone with Alzheimer’s. The thought of moving her into an unfamiliar environment terrified me. She called daily, asking if she could bring home a newspaper to help look for places.  It broke my heart and frustrated me at the same time.

Only God kept me upright. Then one Saturday, I found something promising, an identical unit in the building next to ours. They accepted applications directly through the app I was using. Is this it? I tempered my excitement and applied. The realtor responded quickly. We spoke on Sunday. It felt more than promising. Monday, I opened the app as fast as I could.  “Your application has been declined.”

Part 3: He Is

Saturday, July 16th, 2025. After several more false starts, I was in morning prayer when a thought entered my mind: “Go back to your landlord and explain everything.” So I did. He said he would see what he could do and get back to me Wednesday. Hope returned. I called my pastor. We prayed. I felt led to give one-fourth of what I had saved as a declaration of faith. I do not need this anymore.

 Wednesday came. No response. Thursday. Nothing. Friday. Silence. Saturday, back in prayer, I said: “I know You have this. I do not know how, but I know You have this.” Then I felt the whisper: “You know the rest of the money you have saved? Give it to her.” She was a close friend I mentor in the faith who urgently needed a new tire for her truck. I agreed immediately. But once prayer ended, doubt began to whisper, just like in the garden. “Did He really say…?”

I delayed. I rationalized. I told myself I would do it later. In the bathroom, I was listening to a prayer on YouTube that confirmed what I had already heard. I stopped the video. I obeyed. Less than fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzed.


“You guys can stay.!"



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