Sean Malone, March 9th 2026 – read time 7 minutes

Years ago, Laura and I found ourselves in Kona, Hawaii, attending a Discipleship Training School at Youth With A Mission. It was 2005, and we were in a season of seeking God deeply about our lives and calling. We didn’t have a grand plan. We were simply asking the Lord where He wanted us and what obedience looked like for the next step.

Our DTS was led by Loren and Darlene Cunningham. At the time, they were crying out for a fresh move of God in YWAM. There was a real hunger for the fire of the Holy Spirit to return in a deeper way across the movement.

Most afternoons, I would hike up a hill overlooking the campus. From that little prayer hut, you could see the ocean and much of the base below. I spent hours there praying and asking God to move again among the students and leaders.

Nothing dramatic. Just simple intercession.

Looking back now, I realize how many things in the kingdom begin in hidden places of prayer.

When Simple Obedience Opens Doors

 

During that season, I felt prompted to buy a large number of copies of Heidi Baker’s book There’s Always Enough and give them away around the campus. I had no real plan for it and certainly no budget for it. But as I shared the idea with a few friends, donations started coming in.

Before long, we had hundreds of copies to distribute.

The excitement around the book led to another thought that felt just as unlikely. I sensed the Lord nudging me to ask if Heidi herself could come speak at the base.

So I went to Darlene Cunningham and shared what had been stirring in my heart. To my surprise, she welcomed the idea. Heidi was invited, and she said yes.

When she came, something significant happened. The Holy Spirit moved in powerful ways among the students and leaders. There were moments of deep repentance, renewed hunger for God, and a fresh passion for the nations.

Like most genuine moves of God, it wasn’t without tension or differing opinions. But it was clear that something had begun.

A Moment on the Hill

 

Toward the end of the school we were again gathered on that same hill. I noticed a young man across the room who had an intensity about him.

I asked someone who he was.

“That’s Andy Byrd,” they said. “He’s on a forty-day fast trying to decide if he should join the Kona base.”

In that moment, I felt the Lord whisper to my heart that Andy would play an important role in YWAM’s future.

At the time, it meant very little to me. I didn’t know Andy personally. It was just a quiet impression in prayer.

Over the years that followed, many people watched Andy step into leadership and help pioneer movements like Fire and Fragrance, Circuit Riders, and later The Send. Seeing that unfold has been a reminder to me of how God often reveals things long before we understand their significance.

The Power of Intercession

 

Years later, around 2012, I returned to Kona to help lead a Crisis Response DTS. When I walked back up that same hill, I was stunned.

The small prayer hut I remembered had become a thriving prayer room filled with worship and intercession. Day and night, people were crying out to God for the nations. The fire of God had returned, and the mission base was thriving.

It was one of those moments where you realize that prayers prayed in hidden places often bear fruit long after we’ve moved on.

Intercession is one of the quiet engines of the kingdom. Most of the time, no one sees it. There are no headlines for it. But again and again in Scripture and in life, God moves through the prayers of people who are willing to stand in the gap.

A Full Circle Moment

 

Recently, something happened that brought all of those memories back.

One morning, I was praying for our city. Since CRI had recently moved its headquarters from Virginia to Charlotte, I had been asking the Lord, “What is the new thing You want to do here?”

That day, while praying, I simply asked again, “Lord, what are You doing in Charlotte?”

A few hours later, I received a message from Andy Byrd letting me know that parts of their ministry were moving to the Charlotte area.

I had to smile.

It felt like one of those quiet reminders from the Lord that He is always at work behind the scenes, weaving together things that often began years earlier in places of prayer.

In some ways it felt like a small full circle moment. A hill in Kona, a prayer years later in Charlotte, and the gentle sense that God is still writing the story.

Seeds That Grow Over Time

 

Around that same time, Crisis Response International was also growing in ways we could not have imagined in the early days.

What started as a small group of people responding to crises has become a global family of responders deploying into disasters, wars, and humanitarian emergencies around the world. And yet the pattern remains the same.

Most of what God does still begins in quiet places of prayer and simple acts of obedience.

A prayer on a hillside.

A conversation with someone in need.

A step of faith that doesn’t make much sense in the moment.

Years later, you sometimes look back and realize God was weaving together something much bigger than you understood at the time.

For CRI Responders

 

For those of you serving with Crisis Response International, I believe the same pattern is true for us.

Jesus said in Matthew 24 that in the midst of wars, disasters, and upheaval, the gospel of the kingdom would be preached to all nations. Crisis and mission are not separate realities in Scripture. Often, they are deeply connected.

Over the years, we have seen it again and again. When people walk through loss, disaster, and uncertainty, their hearts often become open in ways they were not before.

Moments of great shaking can also become moments of great harvest.

That is where CRI responders step in.

You show up in the middle of disasters. You clear debris. You pray with the grieving. You offer practical help and spiritual hope.

Most of the time, those moments feel small and unseen.

But the kingdom of God often advances through those very acts of compassion.

A prayer in a shelter.

A conversation over a chainsaw break.

A quiet moment with someone who has lost everything.

Seeds are being planted that only eternity will fully reveal.

So keep going.

Keep showing up.

Keep praying in the hidden places.

Because more often than not, the harvest that grows from those prayers begins in places no one else ever sees.

To listen to the full story from Sean Malone himself, click here: https://youtu.be/1xKJ3Jh8rEU