With their help, I climbed up a steep hillside to the top where there was a large cross. I sat down on a boulder, and much to my embarrassment, began to cry uncontrollably. I just wanted to pray, and the only thought that came into my mind was, “Lord, please help him…please help him…please help him.” Over and over, for over an hour, that was the only thought or prayer I could say. I was crying so hard, but couldn’t stop. Believe me, I wanted to stop—not because I didn’t want to pray that prayer, but because I was so embarrassed to be so out of control. My friend gave me an extra t-shirt he had in his backpack, because I didn’t have any tissue and was a mess!

That prayer was almost a mantra—something I couldn’t stop, and I believe it was the Holy Spirit giving me that prayer—it was almost as if it came from outside of myself.