I am going to write a story. It’s a story to give some of you wives hope for your families. And especially on Mothers Day.

As I prayed this morning, the Lord brought me back to the 1970’s. It was winter time, late in the evening. I told my children as I went out the front door, “Mama will be right back. I have to go mail a letter to Dad.” I wanted to get the letter mailed before the mail was picked up from the mailbox about six blocks away.

As I hurried along on the snowy, icey sidewalks, I would look down at my black gloved hand, holding yet another letter to the prison. Oh, I felt so broken in heart. I said to the Lord, “Lord, yet another letter to the prison. Why, Lord, why?”

I had already been deserted many times, me and my three children. I had already been through waiting four prison terms and two mental institutions. And here I was, walking through the ice and snow to mail another letter to the prison.

Things had not gotten better over the years, but worse. Jim had gone from small crimes to big ones. From small prisons to the bigger ones where the really hopeless older guys were. And here I am, walking blocks and blocks in the winter cold to mail yet another letter. A letter of hope. Letters that said, “Ya know, Jim, maybe we haven’t made it yet, but we will. We will.”

I used to wonder why the hell my hurt was so deep, and times so rock hard. And today the Lord told me, “Connie, you didn’t know it at the time, but you were going through so much so that you could comfort those that the world can’t comfort.”

Ya know, I wrote Papa 365 letters a year. Each telling him I knew we would make it in the end. And we did, and that was 25 years ago. And I will never forget that snowy evening walk to that mailbox, so grieved in heart. I can still see in my mind that black glove holding that letter. I kept looking at it as I walked and prayed, “Lord, it’s been so long.” At the time, it had been about 11 years of waiting, and nothing but one sorry story after the other. And yet the Lord told me to press on and not give up, as I would see His glory.

We do become refined as we walk through the valley of the shadows of death. But we fight no battle for the Lord that we do not win. The journey in our faith is a journey to take over Satanic strong holds. Our goal is not to be refined but to win the battle at hand. God refines us, or whatever He needs to do, to cause us to win the battle. But look away from His refining of your flesh and keep your mind on the victory. Keep a clear and crisp vision of the victory at hand.

We are to be daughters of Light and warriors for our faith. Each of us wives and Mothers is called in our home as a Joan of Arc who heard another voice. Not one of this world. We are called to live out of our dreams and visions. We are called to do His will on earth. If we are afraid of the battles set before us, then we will never see His glory. If we listen to the world, we will surely fail.

No, in these times of uncertainty and confusion in our government, we must take up the full armor of God and fight the good fight of faith for our husbands and children, and then we will see His glory.