One verse holds the whole thing: "casting all your worries on him, because he cares for you." This app is that verse, made into a place you can actually stand. Don't take our word for it — try one handing right now, below, before you sign up for anything.
Type it or say it out loud — the fight, the bill, the biopsy, the thing you'd never bring up in small group. There's no right way to phrase it and no vocabulary to know. You don't need to know a single book of the Bible to begin. He's not grading it, and neither are we.
Most burdens fall into two honest piles. Things you cannot control — outcomes, other people's choices, results you're waiting on — go to Cast. Things you can actually act on go to Carry, never more than three, each with one small first step. Not a project. A step. You always get the final say: if we put something in the wrong pile, one tap moves it.
Try it — right here, right now
Pick whichever one sounds like your week. Nothing you tap is recorded — this demo runs entirely on this page.
Every cast burden is met by Scripture chosen for that situation — from a library of over 400 verses across 65 situations, Old Testament and New, Genesis to Revelation — worry and night-waking, fear, money, illness, grief, waiting, anger, shame, loneliness, family, marriage, children, work, decisions, exhaustion, protection, gratitude, doubt, temptation, forgiveness, betrayal, hope, purpose, courage, aging, injustice — and the ones people carry alone: depression, addiction, infertility, pregnancy, caregiving, praying for a prodigal, prayer with no words, unanswered prayer, spiritual dryness, comparison, identity and worth, divorce, blended families, facing death, church hurt, failure, disappointment, new beginnings, and more. Under each verse is one plain sentence about what it means tonight, and the same verse never appears twice in a row. Tap ☆ keep on any verse and it's saved to your own Kept collection, on your device, for the road ahead.
This is the one thing worth being crystal clear about, because it stops people from letting go: tapping ☆ keep saves the verse permanently, and casting the burden never takes it away. They don't compete. Most people do both on the same card — keep the words, then hand up the weight.
☆ Keep saves the verse — and the burden you were carrying when it met you — into your own Kept collection, the moment you tap it. The card stays right where it is.
Cast it on Him ↑ lifts the burden off your shoulders and off the screen. The verse you kept stays kept. Nothing you saved has ever been erased by letting something go.
☆ Keep works on prayers, too. At the end of a session your prayer has the same ☆ in its corner. Tap it and that prayer — your own words, from that exact night — is saved with its date, right alongside your verses.
You'll see it confirmed on the card itself the moment you keep something, so you never have to wonder.
Where to find them again: your Kept collection is one tap from the home screen — the "Kept" link under the writing box — and again at the end of every session, on the closing screen. Open it any morning, any hard afternoon, any sleepless night. It's saved on your device, private, and it doesn't expire.
At the end, your words become a prayer you can actually pray — and it does two things a summary can't.
First, it asks for what's underneath. Nobody praying about a biopsy is only praying about a biopsy. So the prayer names the thing beneath the thing: not just healing, but Your nearness in the room where it hurts. Not just the mortgage, but freedom from the fear underneath it. Not just their way home, but peace for me until then. Every one of the 65 situations has that deeper ask written for it.
Second, the shape changes — and the shape is the teaching. Prayer has forms, and the church has used them for two thousand years. Depending on what you're carrying and what hour it is, your prayer will come in one of six:
Under each prayer is a short, quiet note naming the shape you just prayed and where it comes from. Someone who has never prayed learns the forms by praying them. Someone who has prayed for fifty years gets a frame they may not have used since childhood — or ever. Nothing here belongs to one denomination; it's the plain, brotherly, Spirit-first language the whole church shares.
And no two are ever the same. Your device remembers the last eight prayers it built and refuses to hand one back, and it won't reuse a form back to back. The words are yours, the shape is the church's, and the combination has never existed before tonight.
The prayer is assembled on your device. It is never sent anywhere and exists nowhere else unless you keep it or send it to someone you love.
Keep the prayers that meet you. Tap ☆ in the prayer's corner and it's saved to your Kept collection with the date — and the note about its shape comes with it. Months later you can read the exact prayer you prayed the night before the surgery, in your own words, with what came next already known. That's a testimony you can't get anywhere else, and it's yours.
One breath in — He gives breath. One breath out — He takes the weight. A benediction, and the screen goes quiet. No streaks, no notifications begging you back. We built an app that wants you to close it, because that's what handing something over is for — and we built it to be there every time you open it: the sunrise He gifts you, the mountaintop afternoon, the golden hour, the quiet of the night walking with Him. The app knows what hour it is and meets you in that light.
Actionable things beyond today rest in In His time — pick any of them up when you're ready. Everything you've cast lives in What He's carried: not a to-do list, a testimony. A couple of weeks after you hand up something checkable, we gently ask how it turned out. When you answer "He held it," that becomes a number the app remembers — evidence of faithfulness, gathered from your own life.
Everything you write lives on your device and nowhere else. No account, no cloud, no database with your name in it. Your words pass through our sorter for a moment — unstored, unread by any person — and are gone the instant your piles come back. What you tell Him here stays between you and Him.
The full plain-English version is on the privacy page. It's short, because there's not much to explain when you don't keep anything.
Is this a replacement for church, a pastor, or a counselor? No, and it never claims to be. It's the ten quiet minutes between you and Him whenever you need them. If what you're carrying is heavier than that — grief that won't lift, thoughts that scare you — the app will say so plainly and point you to a real person, starting with 988 in the US.
Which Bible is this? The World English Bible — a faithful, modern public-domain translation. Every verse is real, whole, and referenced so you can open your own Bible to the same page.
What does it cost? Your first handing is free — a gift, no card, no account. After that it's a small subscription, which is what keeps this place free of ads and tracking, answerable to no one but you.
A colophon, as fine books have carried for five hundred years.
Let Him Carry It was made with care by I Love Yu LLC. Scripture is quoted from the World English Bible, which belongs to everyone. The type is set in Instrument Serif and Mulish on laid paper drawn in code, and the light on the horizon keeps the real hour — above the line at dawn, beneath it as a lantern at night. Built for the person awake at 11:40, handing it up.