The church was empty, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light. Marcus felt a desperate need for something—a sign, a word, a reason to keep his head up.
Marcus closed his eyes. At first, the words felt like a distant wish. He thought of the mounting bills, the silent phone calls from recruiters, and the look of worry he tried to hide from his daughter. Those felt like weapons. They felt like they were prospering quite well. Fred Hammond - No Weapon Formed Against Me Shall Prosper
"It won't work," he whispered. Then louder. "It won't work!" The church was empty, save for the faint
“God will do what He said He would do / He will stand by His word / He will come through.” At first, the words felt like a distant wish
But as the song transitioned into its bridge, the tempo shifted. The choir rose behind Hammond, a wall of vocal strength that seemed to push back against the shadows of the empty room.