With the new day I look back and see I have survived, still intact. How did that happen? I remember the desperate moments, the extreme tension; the hunkering down in the storm. But I also remember that in the midst of those storms there was the urgency for prayer: I needed to pray. I sought out the chapel in the hospital, but it was closed. The chapel had regular hours but thank God, He is open 24/7. There in the empty waiting room my broken prayer seemed somewhat small and futile. And in this indifferent, self-seeking world in which I found myself feeling isolated and alone, prayer seemed almost out of place; sort of like I was waving loose ends of tattered threads in a raging wind. B
The world had been found to be comfortless and as my feeble prayers were, they were all I had, all there was, and all that could offer a measure of comfort. My faith, my prayer was all there was to hold on to. So I did.
When the winds abated, I looked up to realize that all had sustained me through the night was Hope, connected to Jesus through the thin thread of prayer. The problem was not overcome; the questions were still unanswered but now I something I had not had the night before. My prayers were answered: hold on, not yet. Prayer and faith had sustained me through the storm, and in storms that come they would undergird me with a refreshed hope and security through Jesus Christ. So, in the beginning and in the end, in the calm, and in the storms, my Anchor holds. Praise God! The Anchor holds.
“Now more than ever I cherish the cross. More than ever I sit at His feet. Miles of my journey have proved my Lord true. And, He is so precious to me.”