Ten months passed after the vibrating twitch in his finger announced itself and quietly took a backseat in our lives. We were oblivious to the destruction this hitchhiker held as we crossed the plains of Wyoming—laughing and cutting up on a ten-day road trip.

April 2018 blew our life down. It came in with hurricane strength, scattering our dreams across life’s terrain. My husband was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. We had a million questions dumped into our laps. But one thing was awfully obvious: his disease was aggressive, and he was young. Within six months, tremors started in his right hand. As the months passed, he loaded up on medications. His right hand, arm, and shoulder flapped wildly like a bronc rider’s on an angry bull.

Our lives changed. We sold my husband’s motorcycle. Bitter tears welled up inside me as his BMW glided down the road without him. Standing in our driveway, I sucked in air to hold back hot, torturous tears. I couldn't take the pain of his dreams deflating. I hurt for him. We were life partners, and I had decided I would go down with him on this ship. I sold my motorcycle a few weeks later. But I was focusing on my losses, his losses, the whole neurological nightmare, not the daily portion of strength God had for me and the prayer required to access it.

I can't confront life all at once on my own. That's why this verse is crucial: My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. My daily portion strengthens my heart just like one meal at a time does my body. I certainly can’t eat all life’s meals in one day, hoping to nourish my body forever.

God wants me to know one prayer at a time is the focus of my strength. My daily prayers are equivalent to my daily meals. If I forget to eat, I am weak and ineffectual with myself and others. The same is true if I fail to pray.

Don’t let it take a crisis to lead you to pray and see God’s power. Make prayer a daily habit.