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“Mom, I’m about to be homeless. Can you and Dad help me?” The voice on the other end of the line was a child I had prayed for for years. This was not the first time they had asked to be rescued. It was not the second or third time either. My husband and I had dished out more money and time and vehicles and advice than I cared to remember. We had rescued them over and over again, and every time we got a call from our wayward child, we let our hearts believe this was the momen

Recently, I sat with someone in the midst of a difficult trial. She was overwhelmed by sorrow, feeling desolate, keenly aware of the...