In July, 2012, I endured a 'Dark Night of the Soul.' As Dark Nights go, it was brief, but painful none the less.
Early in the morning of the Dark Night a young man appeared at my door with a look of concern and determination on his face. We talked.
He questioned me and prompted me to identify where the darkness had begun. We plowed and uncovered roots. As the roots of destruction were exposed we prayed about each one and nailed it to the Cross of Jesus. A burden was lifted and healing began.
I had not asked for this man to come and visit, but God had nudged him, and he listened. He heard because his inner ear is always tuned to hear that Still Small Voice.
1993 was a hard year for my daughter. She married and gave birth to my granddaughter. Neither she, nor her husband had any place for God in their lives and thus began a long and painful journey. They fought and I prayed. I questioned why God allowed this union to take place. There was suffering and destruction. The granddaughter was the joy of my life, but the head of that household was a thorn in my flesh.
18 years later the answer held my hand and prayed me through my Dark Night. God raised beauty from ashes and her dad has become an awesome man of God whose life shines with his Heavenly Father's love and mercy.
Never, ever, ever give up. And never, ever, ever doubt that God hears and answers prayer. Never.