As I sit here trying to imagine some of that seven day period--hunger knawing holes in the stomach, thirst cracking parched membrane, pain wracking the whole of the body, my mind cannot wrap itself around the bravery and resilience of these women.
And yet I know it has to be a miracle. Only God could provide this larger than life heroism. How could this NOT bring glory to our God? These women were praising God as they were rescued.
Earth in its fury had hidden these precious flowers from sight--from hope-starved families, from light of day, from food and water BUT it could not hide them from the care of a tender, loving Father. Surely, surely, as they waited days, hours, minutes, moments that seemed to go on forever--a loving, heavenly Father was singing songs of deliverance over them.
I wonder if they could hear Him--if their spirits could hear voices of millions of angels singing "back-up" to Him-- I wonder if at times it was a lullaby of comfort and rest, if other times it was a ballad of memories of their families and loved ones to keep up their hope--and at times a spirit-charged anthem of conquering victory to spur them toward the day the rescuers would miraculously find them breathing and praising God? I wonder.
If ever I have been encouraged to do the things I need to do, it is today. He is my hiding place and He is singing over me.
| Ps 32:7 You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. Zeph 3:17 The LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing." |
