Darkness flooded the landscape, but I stood in a luminous tent—a light on a hill. Sprinkled around me were strings and clothespins, filled not with garments but white cards marked by handwriting.
Please pray for my mother, who is fighting cancer. Pray that I will be able to pass my exams. Pray that my friend will escape depression. Please pray that I will be willing to have more faith.
Plea upon plea had been scribbled down, clipped high, waiting. Waiting for an answer.
The needs and wants and burdens of the university’s campus were on display, and initially my mind felt feeble, as if their weight would crush me if I dared to read them all.
Then I remembered: God is victorious.
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