Miracle on Ice House Road
Don't you just love how God shows up without a prayer? This just astounds me. We never want to minimize the power and purpose of prayer, but there are those times that he just blesses us with the desires of our heart, without a word. Have you ever stopped to realize a moment like this? Maybe it was a brief thought of something you wish you could do; then the opportunity presents itself in such a subtle way, and you are doing it. Even more amazing are the times when it comes from God’s desire of HIS own heart for us, causing him to stretch his hands down from the heavens, snatching us up from death.
Most of us have heard the story of the recent miracle on the Hudson River in New York. What a perfect testimony to God’s existence; his desire for those who doubt, to believe; and how he uses others to carry out his miraculous works. Not only did he equip the pilot with the utmost expertise and leadership in aviation safety, but God’s protection was upon each and every one of the people aboard the aircraft. Even the waters upon which the plane landed were prepared. How amazing for the aircraft to not collide with any of the watercraft scattered all over the river that day. The list can go on and on. Do you know what I love most about this story? It is the humility of the pilot, who turns the glory over to God.
For me, the miracle on the Hudson River reminds me of a day when God stretched down his hand to snap me from death. He even provided the skilled ‘pilot’. We’re talking about one day, twenty-five years ago, yet I recall every minute of that day as if it were yesterday. I was twenty years old, living with Ed, my husband-to-be. This was many years before I knew anything about Christianity, though my belief in God was always there. Raised among a family of Sicilians provided me with some awareness of God's existence. Though distorted to the umpteenth degree, and borderline spiritual abuse, I believed.
Camping, hunting, and fishing were things we loved to do. On this particular weekend, we were eager to get a jump on the camping season. We decided to take our brand new truck and head for the hills. The motor was not yet broken in, so we knew we needed to put some miles on it that weekend. We were also eager to try out the four-wheel drive. All we had to do was load up the camper with our gear and GO! Our beautiful Golden Retriever, Drake, sat between us as we headed toward our weekend of R&R in the mountains. Most camp trips were spent at Union Valley Reservoir, in the El Dorado National Forest. This time, we decided on Ice House Reservoir.
Due to our rather late start, we were caught in heavy Friday afternoon traffic. By the time we reached the dirt road where we'd turn off to venture into the forest, it was dark. We agreed to pull over and sleep the night in the camper, searching out our perfect camp spot at sunrise.
To our surprise, there was snow everywhere when we woke up . "Great! So much for a weekend of camping." I just wanted to head back home. We were not at all prepared, or clothed, for the snow and cold. Ed had a nice idea, however, and suggested we check out the beauty and drive up to Loon Lake, which is at the top of Ice House Road.
Now, picture a very windy, one-lane mountain road, covered with a couple inches of snow. Our truck hugged the hillside as we climbed up in elevation. Out my window, I peered down the Ice House Canyon, in wonder. You see, I'd never been anywhere like this, having grown up in Silicon Valley, California. Heading for the beach over Highway 17, through the Santa Cruz Mountains, was about it for me. This was majestic and I could not wait to get to the top of the mountain, to find the perfect outlook, where I could take in the amazing canyon views, all covered with snow. Snow was another phenomenon for me.
Just like the pilot of the aircraft on the Hudson River, Ed was very familiar with the road, and experienced with the present road conditions. As we continued our climb up the mountain, the snow deepened, and the ice beneath the snow became increasingly noticeable. “I think we better turn around. It doesn’t look like these tires will take us up to the lake after all. When we get home, we’re putting on a set of good mud and snows.”
This is when the reality of our situation began to surface within my heart. Ed began his careful maneuver of turning the truck around on this narrow, icy road. His short glimpses toward me revealed my nervousness, as I gripped the handle over my passenger door. I closed my eyes and tried not to hold my breath. His gentle reassurance and attention to the speed he was driving was not preventing my feet from their attempt to shove through the floorboard. “It’s okay, I’ve driven this many times. We’re fine, so just trust me.”
“Alright,” I thought. The downshift of the gears slowed us to a crawl as we ascended back down Ice House Road. I don’t think we could have gone any slower, and that was such a relief. My confidence in Ed’s ability to get us off the mountain strengthened. I eased my grip from the handle, in order to make the task a bit less stressful for him. The curves and turns were not real sharp for quite awhile. Mind you, ‘quite awhile’ did not mean ‘quite a distance’, at the pace we were traveling. “At least the hillside is on my side of the road this time.” It was all I could do to focus on the beauty surrounding me, rather than the fear attempting to consume me.
Suddenly, the truck slid a bit. I know my eyes doubled in size when I gasped and looked over at Ed. “Just a little black ice. It’s ok.” Black ice? What was black ice? My hand was back on the handle. The truck suddenly was not following the bend around the hillside. Instead, we were sliding forward. “What’s happening?”
“Hold on, were going for a ride.” Ed was holding the steering wheel tight in his hands. The edge of the road was rapidly coming closer. All I could see ahead of us was the emptiness, then the hillside of trees across the canyon. The road was turning to our right, but we were headed straight for the canyon. As the truck met the edge of the road, my life flashed before my eyes. I saw us flying over the edge of the mountainside. I screamed, “ Ed! Oh my God! Please! No, God!” My hands pressed against the liner above me as my feet braced for the impact.
As the front of the truck dipped over the edge of the mountain, I was looking straight down to the bottom of the canyon. Everything appeared to move in slow motion. I looked over at Ed…then everything came to a stop. We stopped. There was complete silence, and I could barely breathe. The truck had come to a complete stop, half way over the edge of the mountain. Then I realized the truck was swaying. We were at a slight angle, teetering back and forth. The back passenger tire was up off the ground, as was one of the front wheels. At that moment, I realized God had stopped our truck; just like that, suspended over the edge of the mountain.
Ed told me to slowly get out of the truck. I just kept crying for him to jump out. With the unstable angle of the truck, it would have rolled onto him if he were to attempt to jump. He remained so calm and needed me to climb out and gather rocks and branches to wedge in front of the wheels. As I did this, and he attempted to move his foot from the brake, the truck began to slip. Next, I tried leveling the ground behind the tires, to only again have the truck slip when he tried to move.
Drake was still in the back of the truck, so I pulled him out of there to lighten the weight against the cab. Ed had me add weight to the tailgate, only to have the boulders roll against the cab! Panic started setting in. This was when Ed told me to stand back, away from the truck. “I’m gonna drive this thing down the canyon!”
“What? Just jump, Ed! Please!” He told me he saw a spot where he could just kamikaze the truck into. Imagine the fear I felt, with visions of the truck rolling down the canyon with him in it. I took Drake, stood back, and started praying for God to save him. I heard the e-brake release and watched him maneuver the truck onto a path, straight toward a patch of Manzanita brush and boulders. I screamed and cried for him, for what seemed to be several minutes. Suddenly, he stopped! He made it! His plan worked! I wondered if he was alright, as it took him a minute or so before he leapt from the truck, yelling and jumping up and down, waving his arms in the air. It was another miracle. All I could do was sob with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, dear God, thank you!”
This is when the tears finally came. These were tears of joy as my hands were upon my face, crying. Ed grabbed the sleeping bags and shovel out of the back of the truck, then began his three hundred foot trek up the steep, snow-filled canyon. Tears of joy turned to laughter. We both were laughing a joyous, grateful laughter. I yelled to him with my arms reached up, “You’re okay! You did it!” He was trying to run, but could only stumble his way over the rocky hillside, covered in snow.
Reunited, we held each other and cried tears of relief and pain, simultaneously. Drake was right there, leaning into our legs with gratitude, as well. “There’s a storm coming. Let’s get Drake back in the truck and find some help.” Sure enough, we were hit with a blizzard, right at that moment. Ed managed to get Drake back down to the truck and locked him in the camper shell. I stood there, in wonder, as he kept amazing me with his natural instincts of survival. Once the dog was secured, Ed decided to go find the ranger station. We agreed it would be better for me to wrap up in a sleeping bag and tuck myself under a ledge in the hillside, protected from the wind and ice. Ed, on the other hand, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, which he belted around his body, and headed down the road. My eyes remained locked on him until his image disappeared around the bend in the road.
Hours passed. Fearful thoughts kept trying to overtake my mind, as I worried for Ed’s safety out in the storm. We never did see any sign of life during our drive up or down this mountain. The USFS Information Center, and the Ice House Ranger Station were closed for the season. Only us crazies were out, attempting to camp without checking the weather forecast or road conditions. What if he could not continue on? What if he’s hurt? Nobody is going to find us!
Once the shivers took hold, they never left. I was shaking uncontrollably. The sleeping bags we’d bought were not the sub-zero, arctic brand. I don’t think it was sub-zero weather, but my teeth were chattering, and my body shaking, as if it were. My feet were hurting so bad and my legs began cramping. The storm continued to blow through the canyon without ceasing. Then, I remembered to pray. As I did so, I blew my warm breath into my hands, clenching the sleeping bag. I just wanted to go to sleep. I kept dozing, and struggled with the fear of falling asleep and not waking. “I need to pray for Ed! Pray, Cherie, pray! Oh, please God, keep him safe. Find us help to get us home.”
I woke to the hum of a truck engine. There was Ed, now wrapped in a large blanket, walking toward me. He helped me out of the rocky crevice I’d burrowed myself into. I could see an older couple inside the cab of the old pickup truck, with a young boy seated between them. For some reason, the time of day was important to me. I noticed the clock when I climbed into the truck. Five hours had passed from the time Ed began his journey to seek help.
He’d made it quite a way down toward the highway when he saw a truck coming toward him. The couple described him as a man, wrapped in something that was covered in snow. He had a pile of snow stacked on top of the hood which was formed by the sleeping bag he’d wrapped around himself. When they stopped, Ed asked, “Can you help us? We were in an accident and my girlfriend is still up there.”
The moment I heard the truck, then actually saw Ed, made the past several hours seem like a dream. All the worry left my body. Now I was sitting in their truck, and they even had hot coffee they’d brought in a thermos. Just to be among them was a blessing. This couple was simply out for a day trip with their grandson, who was only about six or seven years old. The man was checking out the scene of the accident with Ed while I warmed up in the truck. It was not long before we were off the mountain, where these angels of mercy dropped us off at the USFS Information Center. There was a pay phone outside the building, but the office was closed. It was our choice to stay there, and attempt to reach someone on the phone to help us retrieve our truck and get us back into Sacramento.
After an hour, we still had not managed to reach anyone by phone, and we’d run out of change. We were not sure what we were going to do. Then Ed says, “Hey, they are coming back!” Our angels of mercy were back, and they brought breakfast and hot chocolate. We accepted their offer to take us all the way back to Sacramento, which, it ends up, is where they were from. Here we were, sixty miles from home, and we were also neighbors. This was only more evidence as to God’s precision in planning.
Our brother-in-law, who happened to work for Cal Trans, arranged for a tow truck and team to pull our truck from the canyon. Ed wasn’t very enthusiastic about heading back up there, especially knowing the roads would be icing up as the sun went down. There was a sense of peace I had as all the men left for yet another adventure at Ice House.
It was very late that night when I heard our truck pull into the garage. “What? That couldn’t be!” Before I could make it out to the garage, Ed greeted me in the kitchen, with this great big Cheshire Cat smile. “I never want to do that again’, he said, as we hugged each other. “That was not exactly what we had in mind to test out the four-wheel drive!” Exhausted from the entire ordeal, we could not even talk about his return trip until the next day.
Jim came over the next morning and was in awe of the fact that Ed was able to drive our truck home. Not only did we come out of this without a scratch, but our truck did not bear the evidence of 'the accident'. Jim's experience with Cal Trans calls him to horrific accidents on snow-packed mountain roads. He’s seen the worst of the worst. “I don’t know how it is that we are all standing here in this kitchen together”, he said in disbelief. “If I didn’t believe in God, now would be the time I’d start." The three of us looked at each other with a silent acknowledgement of God’s divine intervention.
There is no doubt God’s hand reached down and stopped our truck from plunging into the canyon that day.
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." ~ Ephesians 3:20-21
Most of us have heard the story of the recent miracle on the Hudson River in New York. What a perfect testimony to God’s existence; his desire for those who doubt, to believe; and how he uses others to carry out his miraculous works. Not only did he equip the pilot with the utmost expertise and leadership in aviation safety, but God’s protection was upon each and every one of the people aboard the aircraft. Even the waters upon which the plane landed were prepared. How amazing for the aircraft to not collide with any of the watercraft scattered all over the river that day. The list can go on and on. Do you know what I love most about this story? It is the humility of the pilot, who turns the glory over to God.
For me, the miracle on the Hudson River reminds me of a day when God stretched down his hand to snap me from death. He even provided the skilled ‘pilot’. We’re talking about one day, twenty-five years ago, yet I recall every minute of that day as if it were yesterday. I was twenty years old, living with Ed, my husband-to-be. This was many years before I knew anything about Christianity, though my belief in God was always there. Raised among a family of Sicilians provided me with some awareness of God's existence. Though distorted to the umpteenth degree, and borderline spiritual abuse, I believed.
Camping, hunting, and fishing were things we loved to do. On this particular weekend, we were eager to get a jump on the camping season. We decided to take our brand new truck and head for the hills. The motor was not yet broken in, so we knew we needed to put some miles on it that weekend. We were also eager to try out the four-wheel drive. All we had to do was load up the camper with our gear and GO! Our beautiful Golden Retriever, Drake, sat between us as we headed toward our weekend of R&R in the mountains. Most camp trips were spent at Union Valley Reservoir, in the El Dorado National Forest. This time, we decided on Ice House Reservoir.
Due to our rather late start, we were caught in heavy Friday afternoon traffic. By the time we reached the dirt road where we'd turn off to venture into the forest, it was dark. We agreed to pull over and sleep the night in the camper, searching out our perfect camp spot at sunrise.
To our surprise, there was snow everywhere when we woke up . "Great! So much for a weekend of camping." I just wanted to head back home. We were not at all prepared, or clothed, for the snow and cold. Ed had a nice idea, however, and suggested we check out the beauty and drive up to Loon Lake, which is at the top of Ice House Road.
Now, picture a very windy, one-lane mountain road, covered with a couple inches of snow. Our truck hugged the hillside as we climbed up in elevation. Out my window, I peered down the Ice House Canyon, in wonder. You see, I'd never been anywhere like this, having grown up in Silicon Valley, California. Heading for the beach over Highway 17, through the Santa Cruz Mountains, was about it for me. This was majestic and I could not wait to get to the top of the mountain, to find the perfect outlook, where I could take in the amazing canyon views, all covered with snow. Snow was another phenomenon for me.
Just like the pilot of the aircraft on the Hudson River, Ed was very familiar with the road, and experienced with the present road conditions. As we continued our climb up the mountain, the snow deepened, and the ice beneath the snow became increasingly noticeable. “I think we better turn around. It doesn’t look like these tires will take us up to the lake after all. When we get home, we’re putting on a set of good mud and snows.”
This is when the reality of our situation began to surface within my heart. Ed began his careful maneuver of turning the truck around on this narrow, icy road. His short glimpses toward me revealed my nervousness, as I gripped the handle over my passenger door. I closed my eyes and tried not to hold my breath. His gentle reassurance and attention to the speed he was driving was not preventing my feet from their attempt to shove through the floorboard. “It’s okay, I’ve driven this many times. We’re fine, so just trust me.”
“Alright,” I thought. The downshift of the gears slowed us to a crawl as we ascended back down Ice House Road. I don’t think we could have gone any slower, and that was such a relief. My confidence in Ed’s ability to get us off the mountain strengthened. I eased my grip from the handle, in order to make the task a bit less stressful for him. The curves and turns were not real sharp for quite awhile. Mind you, ‘quite awhile’ did not mean ‘quite a distance’, at the pace we were traveling. “At least the hillside is on my side of the road this time.” It was all I could do to focus on the beauty surrounding me, rather than the fear attempting to consume me.
Suddenly, the truck slid a bit. I know my eyes doubled in size when I gasped and looked over at Ed. “Just a little black ice. It’s ok.” Black ice? What was black ice? My hand was back on the handle. The truck suddenly was not following the bend around the hillside. Instead, we were sliding forward. “What’s happening?”
“Hold on, were going for a ride.” Ed was holding the steering wheel tight in his hands. The edge of the road was rapidly coming closer. All I could see ahead of us was the emptiness, then the hillside of trees across the canyon. The road was turning to our right, but we were headed straight for the canyon. As the truck met the edge of the road, my life flashed before my eyes. I saw us flying over the edge of the mountainside. I screamed, “ Ed! Oh my God! Please! No, God!” My hands pressed against the liner above me as my feet braced for the impact.
As the front of the truck dipped over the edge of the mountain, I was looking straight down to the bottom of the canyon. Everything appeared to move in slow motion. I looked over at Ed…then everything came to a stop. We stopped. There was complete silence, and I could barely breathe. The truck had come to a complete stop, half way over the edge of the mountain. Then I realized the truck was swaying. We were at a slight angle, teetering back and forth. The back passenger tire was up off the ground, as was one of the front wheels. At that moment, I realized God had stopped our truck; just like that, suspended over the edge of the mountain.
Ed told me to slowly get out of the truck. I just kept crying for him to jump out. With the unstable angle of the truck, it would have rolled onto him if he were to attempt to jump. He remained so calm and needed me to climb out and gather rocks and branches to wedge in front of the wheels. As I did this, and he attempted to move his foot from the brake, the truck began to slip. Next, I tried leveling the ground behind the tires, to only again have the truck slip when he tried to move.
Drake was still in the back of the truck, so I pulled him out of there to lighten the weight against the cab. Ed had me add weight to the tailgate, only to have the boulders roll against the cab! Panic started setting in. This was when Ed told me to stand back, away from the truck. “I’m gonna drive this thing down the canyon!”
“What? Just jump, Ed! Please!” He told me he saw a spot where he could just kamikaze the truck into. Imagine the fear I felt, with visions of the truck rolling down the canyon with him in it. I took Drake, stood back, and started praying for God to save him. I heard the e-brake release and watched him maneuver the truck onto a path, straight toward a patch of Manzanita brush and boulders. I screamed and cried for him, for what seemed to be several minutes. Suddenly, he stopped! He made it! His plan worked! I wondered if he was alright, as it took him a minute or so before he leapt from the truck, yelling and jumping up and down, waving his arms in the air. It was another miracle. All I could do was sob with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, dear God, thank you!”
This is when the tears finally came. These were tears of joy as my hands were upon my face, crying. Ed grabbed the sleeping bags and shovel out of the back of the truck, then began his three hundred foot trek up the steep, snow-filled canyon. Tears of joy turned to laughter. We both were laughing a joyous, grateful laughter. I yelled to him with my arms reached up, “You’re okay! You did it!” He was trying to run, but could only stumble his way over the rocky hillside, covered in snow.
Reunited, we held each other and cried tears of relief and pain, simultaneously. Drake was right there, leaning into our legs with gratitude, as well. “There’s a storm coming. Let’s get Drake back in the truck and find some help.” Sure enough, we were hit with a blizzard, right at that moment. Ed managed to get Drake back down to the truck and locked him in the camper shell. I stood there, in wonder, as he kept amazing me with his natural instincts of survival. Once the dog was secured, Ed decided to go find the ranger station. We agreed it would be better for me to wrap up in a sleeping bag and tuck myself under a ledge in the hillside, protected from the wind and ice. Ed, on the other hand, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, which he belted around his body, and headed down the road. My eyes remained locked on him until his image disappeared around the bend in the road.
Hours passed. Fearful thoughts kept trying to overtake my mind, as I worried for Ed’s safety out in the storm. We never did see any sign of life during our drive up or down this mountain. The USFS Information Center, and the Ice House Ranger Station were closed for the season. Only us crazies were out, attempting to camp without checking the weather forecast or road conditions. What if he could not continue on? What if he’s hurt? Nobody is going to find us!
Once the shivers took hold, they never left. I was shaking uncontrollably. The sleeping bags we’d bought were not the sub-zero, arctic brand. I don’t think it was sub-zero weather, but my teeth were chattering, and my body shaking, as if it were. My feet were hurting so bad and my legs began cramping. The storm continued to blow through the canyon without ceasing. Then, I remembered to pray. As I did so, I blew my warm breath into my hands, clenching the sleeping bag. I just wanted to go to sleep. I kept dozing, and struggled with the fear of falling asleep and not waking. “I need to pray for Ed! Pray, Cherie, pray! Oh, please God, keep him safe. Find us help to get us home.”
I woke to the hum of a truck engine. There was Ed, now wrapped in a large blanket, walking toward me. He helped me out of the rocky crevice I’d burrowed myself into. I could see an older couple inside the cab of the old pickup truck, with a young boy seated between them. For some reason, the time of day was important to me. I noticed the clock when I climbed into the truck. Five hours had passed from the time Ed began his journey to seek help.
He’d made it quite a way down toward the highway when he saw a truck coming toward him. The couple described him as a man, wrapped in something that was covered in snow. He had a pile of snow stacked on top of the hood which was formed by the sleeping bag he’d wrapped around himself. When they stopped, Ed asked, “Can you help us? We were in an accident and my girlfriend is still up there.”
The moment I heard the truck, then actually saw Ed, made the past several hours seem like a dream. All the worry left my body. Now I was sitting in their truck, and they even had hot coffee they’d brought in a thermos. Just to be among them was a blessing. This couple was simply out for a day trip with their grandson, who was only about six or seven years old. The man was checking out the scene of the accident with Ed while I warmed up in the truck. It was not long before we were off the mountain, where these angels of mercy dropped us off at the USFS Information Center. There was a pay phone outside the building, but the office was closed. It was our choice to stay there, and attempt to reach someone on the phone to help us retrieve our truck and get us back into Sacramento.
After an hour, we still had not managed to reach anyone by phone, and we’d run out of change. We were not sure what we were going to do. Then Ed says, “Hey, they are coming back!” Our angels of mercy were back, and they brought breakfast and hot chocolate. We accepted their offer to take us all the way back to Sacramento, which, it ends up, is where they were from. Here we were, sixty miles from home, and we were also neighbors. This was only more evidence as to God’s precision in planning.
Our brother-in-law, who happened to work for Cal Trans, arranged for a tow truck and team to pull our truck from the canyon. Ed wasn’t very enthusiastic about heading back up there, especially knowing the roads would be icing up as the sun went down. There was a sense of peace I had as all the men left for yet another adventure at Ice House.
It was very late that night when I heard our truck pull into the garage. “What? That couldn’t be!” Before I could make it out to the garage, Ed greeted me in the kitchen, with this great big Cheshire Cat smile. “I never want to do that again’, he said, as we hugged each other. “That was not exactly what we had in mind to test out the four-wheel drive!” Exhausted from the entire ordeal, we could not even talk about his return trip until the next day.
Jim came over the next morning and was in awe of the fact that Ed was able to drive our truck home. Not only did we come out of this without a scratch, but our truck did not bear the evidence of 'the accident'. Jim's experience with Cal Trans calls him to horrific accidents on snow-packed mountain roads. He’s seen the worst of the worst. “I don’t know how it is that we are all standing here in this kitchen together”, he said in disbelief. “If I didn’t believe in God, now would be the time I’d start." The three of us looked at each other with a silent acknowledgement of God’s divine intervention.
There is no doubt God’s hand reached down and stopped our truck from plunging into the canyon that day.
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." ~ Ephesians 3:20-21
This is quite a story! All kinds of miracles.
ReplyDeleteHeidi
http://www.heidimthomas.com
Incredible story of God's provision in your life Cherie. I agree this is a modern day miracle. People don't always give God the credit or glory for what He is doing daily in our lives to keep us safe while here on earth. It is clear He was pursuing you and showing you His love.
ReplyDeleteI can't help but wonder what happened to Ed. Did he come to know the Lord?
The story is beautiful and a clear testimony of how God loves us no matter where we are in our relationship with Him. Thank you sweet Lord for your great power and love that You continually use for our good. Thank you for keeping Cherie safe all of those years back. I would not have the wonderful experience of her friendship without your divine intervention in her life. Amen. ~~
Thank you, Heidi and Cindy! You know, I had not set up my blog so that I receive notifications when comments are posted. So, please forgive me for this very delayed response.
ReplyDeleteCindy, you asked about Ed, and what ever happened to him? He is still around and has been a stable father to Angelica, and good provider. He does not follow Christ, nor is he interested. I keep believing that will change and praying for him. There was a day when he prayed to Jesus to take control of his life. I witnessed this in the midst of our marital struggles. He also acknowledged God's hand upon us on this day of the accident. So, I am hopeful.
Thank you so much for your prayers, Cindy! May the Lord reveal himself to you in mighty ways.