How life taught me the value of seeking God daily, not just in the storm.
They’re called “prayers from the foxhole” for a reason.
The term originated during World War I. Foxholes were hastily dug burrows or trenches, used to protect soldiers from enemy fire. Housing only one or two soldiers, they allowed troops to defend a position while remaining close to the ground where the enemy’s artillery couldn’t easily reach.
We often approach God from the depths of the foxhole. Usually hastily and on the heels of an unforeseen struggle or storm. We bow in those moments, begging God to deliver us.
In moments of crisis, we instinctively and without reservation reach out to Him for help.
We plead.
We bargain.
Because, in the middle of the crisis, we’re willing to do anything to avert the catastrophe before us.
I’ve prayed many foxhole prayers in my life.
You know them.
You’ve more than likely prayed them a time or two in your life. I know I have.
From deep in the trenches, like a soldier facing down the enemy, “God, if you could just please get me out of this, I swear, I’ll never (insert sacrifice here), or I promise I will (insert promise here) for the rest of my life, just please (insert request here).”
Praying in times of need is a natural and almost second-nature response for Christians. We pray for deliverance for ourselves or for those we love, from pain, illness, suffering, or any number of hardships.
Praying willingly during times of crisis, as though we suddenly remember God’s presence. We eagerly reach for the miracles and the answers so needed in the moment.
Our need for God is so great in those moments that we know no other way.
Then the storm passes.
In the aftermath, we grieve, we celebrate, we seek answers to the many “why’s” left behind.
Then we forget. Maybe not intentionally, or right away, but gradually as life moves on.
I’ve bargained with God in the foxhole and made countless promises I meant to keep.
God did His part. He delivered me from the crisis, averted the catastrophe, or at times, just sheltered me through it. My life continued forward, and as the immediate pain, loss, or brokenness lessened, I turned to Him less, forgot to seek His presence daily, didn’t give thanks, and more importantly, didn’t follow through on the promises I’d made.
Did God abandon me? No. Did other moments of crisis arise? Yes. Over and over again, the cycle repeated. God stood patiently and remained steadfast. I was the one who wavered.
God is steadfast; the world is not.
Relying on His presence and goodness is the peaceful pathway out of every storm.
Thanking Him for His mercy and grace is what faith is really all about.
Faith is our first and last line of defense against the world.
God doesn’t make bad things happen.
I’ve come to realize that these moments that force us to our knees are not punishment or God’s departure from us, as we often believe. Instead, they’re catalysts to a deeper and more meaningful relationship with Him.
This life was not meant to be free from pain and suffering. The enemy exists. The forces of evil in this world want nothing more than for us to turn our backs on God. Think about it: even Jesus encountered temptation during His earthly life, and more importantly, He wept and He suffered.
2 Corinthians 4:17 reminds us, “For our momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” 1 Peter 5:10 assures, “And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.”
These scriptures assure us that while suffering is part of life, it’s not forever. More importantly, we can endure what’s temporary when we trust that God has appointed an outcome beyond it.
Affliction is measured; future glory is immeasurable.
God sees into our hearts and knows our most intimate thoughts and needs.
He is not a reluctant God; He’s a loving Father.
Jeff Poor, a minister I follow on Substack, put it this way: “The reason you don’t have to talk a reluctant God into caring about you is that He already showed you, at the cross, how far His love will go. You don’t come as a stranger hoping to get noticed. Through Jesus, you come as an adopted child, the thing the tax collector was reaching for, the thing the impressive prayer could never earn. That’s how you got the right to say Our Father in the first place.“
God remains steadfast in all things, waiting for us to turn to Him with the same longing He has for each of us, not just in the storm, but in every moment.
He promises to be with us. To fight for us. And to welcome us no matter when or how we come to Him.
Life is not an inexhaustible well.
Peter Bowles, the author of The Sheltering Sky, wrote beautiful words as a gentle reminder that we’re only given a limited number of moments in this life. Each moment is a priceless gift, unlimited in possibility, but limited nonetheless in the number we receive.
But because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. And yet, it all seems limitless. Then suddenly, and sometimes in the most painful ways, you’re reminded just how fleeting life truly is.
— Peter Bowles, The Sheltering Sky, 1949
Is our relationship with God any different?
Is our seeking God in times of need yet discounting His presence when the storm has passed any different? Do we rely too heavily on that inexhaustible well, believing we have a million more opportunities to pray; to “get right” with God, rather than accepting that our time is limited?
I’ve been guilty of this many times in my life. Looking back now, I realize that in the moments I was the farthest from Him, life intervened and inevitably called me back, sometimes in the most painful ways.
The thing is, God sees our pain and suffering. He knows the whole of our hearts. He sees our struggles. Knows when we’re hurting. Knows before we ever do where the path ahead will lead.
But He never turns away from us.
Every hardship we face is an opportunity to seek Him.
Every moment of joy, an opportunity to thank Him.
Prayer is more than our pleas; it’s communion with our Father.
Prayer is our pathway into the fullness of God’s grace and His mercy.
In times of hardship and struggle, He beckons us to seek Him.
In times of abundance and joy, He longs for us to commune with Him.
The key to all prayers, I believe, is found in the sincerity and humility with which we submit ourselves to Him.
Whether we’re crying out from the foxhole or on bended knee in thanksgiving and praise, prayer is where we commune with our Father.
And it matters not when or how we come to Him; it only matters that we do.
Our first and last line of defense against this world is FAITH.
FAITH that there’s something greater than ourselves.
FAITH that we’re connected to each other and to the source.
The source of all happiness.
The source of all peace.
Peace that goes beyond our understanding.
The source of all love.
Love that exists unconditionally and with mercy.
The source of all grace.
Grace that leads us to the well.
The well of compassion and forgiveness.
The well of humility and wisdom.
Wisdom that is earned through surrender and acceptance.
And that IS FAITH.
Accepting what is.
No matter what is.
And trusting that whatever happens,
we’re not alone; we’re never forsaken.
We’re loved with the greatest love of all.
The love of Christ.
And the fulfillment of that love,
is the cross on which He suffered and the promise He kept.
Yes, Faith is our fortress and our shield.
Our answer to every question.
Our respite and our companion.
FAITH is our assurance and our conviction
that through Him we overcome the world.
JN Fenwick (© 2026)
JN Fenwick | mothjournal14 | ©2026 | All rights reserved. | I DO NOT WALK THIS RECOVERY JOURNEY ALONE.
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