Heidi Baker had been running on empty for years. By 1996, she and her husband Rolland were operating a small orphanage in Mozambique with almost no funding, no staff, and no clear path forward. She was physically exhausted, emotionally depleted, and questioning whether she had anything left to give.
The Toronto Meeting That Changed Her
At a conference in Toronto in January 1996, Heidi went forward for prayer. Randy Clark, who was leading the meeting, laid his hands on her head and prayed. What happened next lasted seven days. Heidi Baker could not get up from the floor. Not in a metaphorical sense — she physically could not stand. For a full week, she lay on the carpet of that meeting room, unable to move, while something shifted at a level she would later describe as "the rewiring of my entire capacity for love."
The Physical Contact as Catalyst
The laying on of hands was the trigger. When Clark's hands touched her head, Heidi felt what she described as liquid fire running through her body. She wept for hours. She saw visions of children — thousands of them — that she would later recognise as the orphans who would come into her care over the following decades.
The physical act of one person touching another in prayer became the conduit for an encounter that reorganised her entire ministry. Before Toronto, Iris Global (then Iris Ministries) cared for roughly 320 children. Within ten years of that encounter, they were caring for over 10,000 across multiple nations.
The Aftermath in Numbers
From that single week on the floor, Heidi Baker's ministry expanded into one of the largest humanitarian organisations in Mozambique. Over 10,000 churches planted. Schools, medical clinics, feeding programs reaching hundreds of thousands. She traces all of it back to the moment someone placed their hands on her head and she surrendered to what God was doing.
What This Means for You
Sometimes the breakthrough comes through another person's willingness to lay hands on you and pray. Not because their hands are special, but because the physical act of connection — of someone standing with you and touching you in faith — can open a door that words alone cannot.