I thought my marriage was idyllic. I thought my husband was a respectable, upright, law-abiding citizen. I thought we had an open, honest relationship in which we knew everything there was to know about each other. But when I discovered the cache of drugs hidden in his briefcase one day, I realized that everything I had assumed about my husband and about our marriage was a total sham.

Fifteen years of pretense came crashing down around me as I examined the small plastic bags of cocaine powder stashed in the briefcase. How had the truth eluded me all this time? How could I have been so naïve? How could I have lived with a hard-core addict and not even known? For me, honesty between partners was the paramount thing; without it there could be no relationship.

So, there I was, a newly-divorced forty-year old, with five children on my hands, and no marketable skills. I began to weep. I felt utterly alone and helpless. To whom could I turn? Pray! a voice inside me urged. Pray? Another voice scoffed. Why not? I shrugged. It certainly couldn’t hurt. Out of the depths of my being, I prayed. From my torment and anguish and heartache and pain, I prayed. I prayed as I had never prayed before. “Dear God,” I prayed. “Please help me pay this month’s rent and feed my children tonight. I’m not asking you to give me luxuries or extravagances. I’m begging you to allow me to survive.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and my aunt and uncle burst into the room, bearing bags of groceries. I stared at them in shock. So frightened was I by the juxtaposition of their sudden and unexpected arrival with my prayers, that I could only stammer my surprise and gratitude.

When I had attempted to ask my aunt and uncle what had brought them to my home, they had casually answered, “Oh, we were just in the neighborhood, and thought you could use some extra stuff.” An unsatisfactory answer, indeed. I was overwhelmed with relief knowing that my children would eat heartily that night. But what would I do about the rent? I began to unpack the groceries; I noticed a white envelope discreetly tucked into one of the bags. It had my name on it. I tore it open and found inside twelve crisp $20 bills. $240. Two hundred forty dollars is a strange amount of money to give as a gift. But it was precisely the amount I needed for the rent. I never looked back after that because I knew God had my back.

—Chrissie Jenkins

Set a prayer in motion and you’ll be surprised at what happens! The Lord says: “Ask and you shall receive.” He wants us to put our trust in Him as a child puts his/her trust in a parent. God never gives up on us, so we should never, ever give up on God. He is ready to answer our prayers as Chrissie discovered in today’s heart-rending story.

—Fr. Hugh Duffy