Hope

The iron doors shut with a clang and the man sunk onto the cold stone floor. His tortured body had been beaten and broken, but his physical pain could not compare to the state of his mind. Dark thoughts cluttered it, dark as the cold night outside. He lay there, facing the wall, despairing of rescue from his prison. It was over. The enemy was too strong for him, and the only One who could help had forsaken him, he thought. The black shadow enveloped him and fed his despair and depression. The whole night, he nursed his despondency, until the small glimmer of hope he once had, was completely extinguished.

Then, wonder of wonders, a small chink in the wall of his cell, began to shine with a pale, thin light. It was hardly visible and barely even there, but it was holding on, banishing the darkness and ushering a hope, feeble and dim, into the room. At first the man didn't see it, then he didn't want to. But as the light grew in strength, he couldn't ignore it. He lifted his eyes towards the daybreak and suddenly, it shattered the dark wall of ice inside him and lit a flame of hope. The man rose up from the hard stone and basked in the small ray of sunlight, nurturing his new found confidence in God.