Another lonely year passed and she wondered if her prayers were moving past the ceiling wall. Most nights they seem to just bounce back to her knees, which sat strained and sore; her heart broken-open, there on the floor. The wait was long, her heart was heavy and her faith seemed to just be fading. “Were all her waiting years wasted and did they even matter, did they matter to God?”
I’d be delighted if you travel with me to read the rest of this story . . .