When our second son was born with significant respiratory problems, I spent maybe an hour in the hospital chapel on bended knee, with tears in my eyes pleading with our Lord to either help our son survive or to give my wife and I the ability to deal with whatever may happen. When I went back upstairs, the nun came out and saw me and she announced that after hours of deep concern whether our boy would live, he'd just taken a sudden and positive turn and appeared to be on the road to recovery. Since then, I've never doubted that prayers are answered (although not always in the way I hoped). It was the scariest moment I can think of ... but one that was rich in building my faith.

Have you ever faced a problem that had a rewarding conclusion?