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By Connie L. Peters
Special to The PREVIEW
Sometimes, like most people, I feel all alone — like no one cares or even knows that I exist. During those times I close my eyes and picture one night many years ago.
Difficulties plagued my life then. Now, I have a nice home, a solid marriage, a fulfilling occupation and a fun ministry. But then, my husband and I had been married almost ten years and hit a rough spot in our marriage, to put it mildly.
With on-again, off-again employment, finances dwindled to practically nothing. We struggled to raise two kids, ages 2 and 5 in a tiny trailer, barely big enough to turn around in. And worst of all, my husband developed mental health issues, and after some not-so-pleasant experiences, doctors diagnosed him with bipolar disorder.
Sometimes, I’d take the kids and leave for a month at a time because I couldn’t stand my life. One night, as my husband lay asleep beside me, I looked up, startled. A man sat by my bed.
I lay still, barely breathing. But with his head bowed, his hands at his chin, his presence calmed me. He wore a beard and his robe hung loosely around him. I sat up and he disappeared.
The moonlight shining through the curtain played a trick with the shadows. I smiled as I imagined Jesus by my side praying for us. So I lay back down and watched Him a few minutes and drifted off to sleep. I wondered about the optical illusion.
The moon shone through that curtain that particular way only once. Somehow, He must have allowed that to happen to remind me that He knew all about our problems, our unhappiness, and all the trials to come. He also knew that we’d make it through.
And even now, in lonely, worrisome, messed-up times, I can close my eyes and picture Him lovingly praying by my bedside.
“Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died — more than that, who was raised to life — is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.” (Romans 8:34 NIV)
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