Our Story

One of my favorite things to do in the world is pray for people.

Not in a polished or performative way. Just real prayer, in real life, with real people.

Over the years, I found myself praying everywhere. In grocery store aisles. At Costco. In drive-thrus. On cheat day, talking to the person handing me frozen custard. Ordinary moments, interrupted by a simple question:

“How can I pray for you?”

Sometimes I’d pray right there. Other times, I’d pray immediately afterward so I wouldn’t forget. But something consistent always happened.

Prayer pulled my attention off myself and placed it back where it belonged, on God and on the person in front of me. It created an instant human connection. And over time, people would remember. They’d smile when they saw me again. They’d say, “You prayed for me.”

Prayer does that. It reminds us we are not alone. It reorients us toward God. And it quietly stitches humanity back together, one interaction at a time.

Then came the season that marked me forever.

Years ago, my sister lay unconscious in Thomas Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia with a blood clot in her brain. We almost lost her. As I stood praying over her in that room, I did the only other thing I knew to do: I reached out to my prayer warriors.

They poured in around the clock. Prayers through the night. Messages where they recorded themselves praying over her, so that even while she was unconscious, she was surrounded by intercession.

When she regained consciousness, she gave her life to Christ.

She came back to us, and she came back to Him.

And through the long road of recovery, she leaned on those recorded prayers again and again, a library of encouragement she could return to in the hours when no one else was awake.

Two truths from that hospital room never left me. I could summon praying people at a moment’s notice; most people cannot. And regardless of background or belief, when people reach their most vulnerable moments, they welcome prayer. I found myself wishing there were one place where anyone could receive prayers, listen back to them, and offer them to someone else.

But eventually, a question started to surface.

What about the people who need prayer and never experience those moments?

What about those who are isolated, unseen, or simply not surrounded by people who would stop long enough to ask?

The more isolated our world becomes, the more prayer tends to shrink. Not because people don’t believe in it, but because prayer so often grows in proximity to others. The more we engage people, the more we’re reminded to pray beyond ourselves. The more we’re prayed for, the more prayer stays alive.

Scripture tells us to “pray without ceasing.” Yet isolation makes that harder than we admit.

So I began to imagine something simple, but powerful.

What if there were a way to make prayer more accessible, more consistent, and more communal?

What if someone in need of prayer could be met, in real time, by someone willing to intercede?

What if prayer didn’t depend on chance encounters, but was always within reach?

That question became iToro.

iToro exists to connect people who believe their circumstances require something transcendent with people who are willing to stand in the gap with them. It’s a global praying community, where at any moment, across time zones and cultures, someone can both offer prayer and receive it.

There is something profoundly humbling about hearing how someone else goes to God on your behalf. It shifts your understanding of God. It deepens your view of humanity. It reminds you that faith is lived, shared, and carried together.

At its heart, iToro is about intercession.
About presence.
About the quiet power of someone saying, “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

We are building iToro for those who are weary, hopeful, uncertain, faithful, doubting, and searching. For those who pray often and those who don’t know where to begin. For anyone who knows that what they’re navigating cannot be handled by willpower alone.

This is not about performance.
It’s not about perfection.
It’s about connection.

A global community, bound not by geography, but by a shared belief that prayer matters, that God listens, and that showing up for one another changes us.

That’s the heart of iToro.
And we’re honored you’re here.