I am reminded of the long, long winter at Valley Forge. We sometimes read about George Washington's troops, and take courage from the fact that their stolid sacrifice bore such bountiful fruit, in the form of America's victory over the British.

What we forget is that they were DAMN cold, hungry, and, probably, totally worn out.

That's a little of how I'm feeling today about the Schiavo fight.

I've hit a point where I'm beginning to despair that my (and other's) efforts will ever pay off. I'm starting to lose hope.

Guys, we're the Wintertime Soldiers. Although we would not be human if we did not become weary, we just need to hang in there. We need to do it without any assurance that our efforts will pay off. We need to keep punching, although our arms are numb. We need to help our comrades in the fight to keep their spirits up.

This is where faith comes in - we can't see the outcome, we just have to believe that God is hearing us.

We need to be God's Wintertime Soldiers.


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