The 300

We are looking for 300 brave spiritual warriors to come alongside the Lazarus Team, men and women who are willing to give and pray. This is a call to the bold!

We are asking these 300 people to give $1000 toward the Lazarus Project and to become tenacious prayer warriors for the continuation and completion of this work. We want to link these 300 warriors together by text or email to respond in prayer to the request coming in to us. Numbers of the 300 slots have already been filled.

 As a heartfelt thank you for your contribution, you will receive a commemorative silver coin embossed with the Lazarus Project logo. We hope you will carry it with you to remind you to pray for us, and for the requests we may send along your way.

 Thank you in advance for standing with us in the march to victory of the Lazarus Project and Beyond. We need you to march with us in faith as we employ the trumpets and torches of Gideon’s army of 300 on the ground at Mt. Carmel. Of course, you are also welcome to come to the building and work with us on this monumental refurbishing of Miss McConnel’s original building.

 With deep gratitude,

The Lazarus Project Team

They call me the Old Ad Building, and for good reason.

I am more than brick and timber—I am memory, mission, and mercy bound together by time. I am

over one hundred years old, and I have stood watch through generations of footsteps, prayers, lessons,

laughter, and quiet determination.

My foundation was hewn from stone pulled deep from the Appalachian Mountains, rock strong enough

to carry dreams. My wooden bones were cut from trees that once grew tall in Breathitt County,

Kentucky, and even now, they still hold firm. I have weathered storms, seasons, and decades—and I am

still standing.

Within my rooms, children learned to read, write, and count. They wrestled with Latin and Spanish,

explored Science, studied History, mastered English, and were shaped by faith and religion. My halls

echoed with curiosity and calling.

The students who passed through me did not stay long—but they carried what they learned far. They

became teachers, pastors, missionaries, doctors, lawyers, contractors, business leaders, and servants

of their communities. They walked my hallways, and now they walk the world.

Over the decades, I have worn many hats.

I have been a chapel, where prayers rose like incense.

A dining room, where bodies were fed and fellowship grew.

A kitchen, a laundromat, a piano room, a dormitory, and countless classrooms.

I have always answered the call to serve—whatever that call required.

But time, even when kind, leaves its mark.

I am strong, yes—but I am tired in places. I need care now, just as I have given care for so long. I am

entering a new season of restoration, a careful makeover that will allow me to keep standing, keep

serving, and keep shaping lives for the next 100 years.

And so, humbly, I ask for your help.

Some of you can help with financial gifts.

Some can help with physical labor, skills, tools, and time.

All can help by believing that preserving what matters is worth the effort and by praying.x

Every board repaired, every stone strengthened, every dollar given is not just maintenance—it is an

investment in legacy.

I am the Old Ad Building.

I have served faithfully for more than a century.

With your help, I will serve again.