Not long ago I visited a woman who fought a raging battle with cancer.  I'd seen her gritted-teeth stubbornness, had watched her refuse to be emotionally beaten down by this energy-sucking attack on her body, had witnessed a beautiful woman refusing to be humiliated by this force that ravaged her physical appearance.

Today there was something different about her.  Subtle, but distinctly different.

"How are you?" I asked.

Immediately she responded, "I'm praying, and I want you to pray that Jesus will come soon and deliver me."  We did that together.

It wasn't a surrender to despair; it was a yielding to certain hope.  It was her ultimate commitment.  For more than a year she had fought a courageous battle and lived in the strength of her faith.  Now she had moved to another level of commitment.  She prayed confidently and in hope.

I think often of Libby and ponder how i would face my own death.  I'm cultivating the kind of faith she witnessed to, believing it will give me the same courage and triumphant hope.  I invite you to do the same.