THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL.
A Mother’s Faith
By Vera Medvedeva
March 23rd, 2026
I was born in Russia, and my mother was a believer. She was 38 when she became pregnant with me, and because she suffered from heart problems, her doctor advised her to have an abortion, saying that she would die in childbirth and her baby would be severely compromised. However, my mother refused and began praying, instead, for God to help her give birth to a healthy child.
When my mother was ready to deliver, her physician considered this suicide and literally ignored her—although she was pregnant, herself, at that time. But God didn’t abandon her. Another woman was close to delivery, and they called a doctor from another department to help her while she was in labor. But for some reason, he attended to my mother instead.
The miracle was that I was born healthy—and my mother survived it, too. Her first words that day were, “Thank God, Vera,” so they gave me that name.
In time, all my family became believers, and people would gather at our house to study the Bible. My sister and I regularly attended church, and as a child, my faith in God was lively and fervent. My mother often felt unwell due to her heart disease, and during the summer, I’d go to our garden to pray for her. Then I’d run home and ask, “Mom, are you better?” As a rule, she did get better because I sincerely believed that God would help her. After all, Jesus promised, “According to your faith, let it be to you.” Matthew 9:29.
However, my older brother was not a believer. He loved to spend time with his friends, and my mother was worried about him. One day, we all went to bed before he got home. Then, at two o’clock in the morning, my mother woke me up to pray for him. It had been a cold night, and at dawn, he had crawled up to the stoop and lost consciousness. That night, on the banks of the river, he’d been beaten and stripped of his warm coat and clothes. Apparently, they had wanted to drown him in an ice-hole, but suddenly—at 2 o’clock in the morning—they decided not to.
At this time, the Russian laws forbade any of us to talk about God or distribute any religious literature. But my mother and sister secretly printed and distributed Bible lessons, and I helped bind them.
Mom was also very generous and friendly, so we often had guests at our home. She worked as a housewife and looked after our numerous greenhouses. She always gave away the first fruits from her garden to the poor people, left the necessary part for us for food, and sold the rest. God always abundantly blessed our family with whatever was necessary, and our harvest was always better than that of our neighbors. Although our neighbors always sprayed their potatoes with poisonous pesticides, Mom always picked off the potato beetles by hand. And despite their modern methods of pest control, their potatoes always grew small, while ours were large and tasty!
Mom always relied on God in everything. During the summer, our neighbors cut and scattered hay several times to dry it, but my mother didn’t have time to do this, and her health was weak, so she prayed that God would take care of this so our cow would not be left without food. She said: “God will water, and God will dry,” and indeed, the hay was dry at summer’s end, and our cow had enough for the whole winter.
Mom tried her best to use natural means to maintain and improve her health. She brewed various medicinal herbs and fasted, meanwhile doing everything around the house, skiing, and leading an active lifestyle. She sang in the church choir and would often say, “Joy heals the heart!” And so, she lived to be eighty years old.
Her faith inspired me—and all those whose lives she touched.
A Mother’s Faith
By Vera Medvedeva
March 23rd, 2026
I was born in Russia, and my mother was a believer. She was 38 when she became pregnant with me, and because she suffered from heart problems, her doctor advised her to have an abortion, saying that she would die in childbirth and her baby would be severely compromised. However, my mother refused and began praying, instead, for God to help her give birth to a healthy child.
When my mother was ready to deliver, her physician considered this suicide and literally ignored her—although she was pregnant, herself, at that time. But God didn’t abandon her. Another woman was close to delivery, and they called a doctor from another department to help her while she was in labor. But for some reason, he attended to my mother instead.
The miracle was that I was born healthy—and my mother survived it, too. Her first words that day were, “Thank God, Vera,” so they gave me that name.
In time, all my family became believers, and people would gather at our house to study the Bible. My sister and I regularly attended church, and as a child, my faith in God was lively and fervent. My mother often felt unwell due to her heart disease, and during the summer, I’d go to our garden to pray for her. Then I’d run home and ask, “Mom, are you better?” As a rule, she did get better because I sincerely believed that God would help her. After all, Jesus promised, “According to your faith, let it be to you.” Matthew 9:29.
However, my older brother was not a believer. He loved to spend time with his friends, and my mother was worried about him. One day, we all went to bed before he got home. Then, at two o’clock in the morning, my mother woke me up to pray for him. It had been a cold night, and at dawn, he had crawled up to the stoop and lost consciousness. That night, on the banks of the river, he’d been beaten and stripped of his warm coat and clothes. Apparently, they had wanted to drown him in an ice-hole, but suddenly—at 2 o’clock in the morning—they decided not to.
At this time, the Russian laws forbade any of us to talk about God or distribute any religious literature. But my mother and sister secretly printed and distributed Bible lessons, and I helped bind them.
Mom was also very generous and friendly, so we often had guests at our home. She worked as a housewife and looked after our numerous greenhouses. She always gave away the first fruits from her garden to the poor people, left the necessary part for us for food, and sold the rest. God always abundantly blessed our family with whatever was necessary, and our harvest was always better than that of our neighbors. Although our neighbors always sprayed their potatoes with poisonous pesticides, Mom always picked off the potato beetles by hand. And despite their modern methods of pest control, their potatoes always grew small, while ours were large and tasty!
Mom always relied on God in everything. During the summer, our neighbors cut and scattered hay several times to dry it, but my mother didn’t have time to do this, and her health was weak, so she prayed that God would take care of this so our cow would not be left without food. She said: “God will water, and God will dry,” and indeed, the hay was dry at summer’s end, and our cow had enough for the whole winter.
Mom tried her best to use natural means to maintain and improve her health. She brewed various medicinal herbs and fasted, meanwhile doing everything around the house, skiing, and leading an active lifestyle. She sang in the church choir and would often say, “Joy heals the heart!” And so, she lived to be eighty years old.
Her faith inspired me—and all those whose lives she touched.
THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL.
A Mother’s Faith
By Vera Medvedeva
March 23rd, 2026
I was born in Russia, and my mother was a believer. She was 38 when she became pregnant with me, and because she suffered from heart problems, her doctor advised her to have an abortion, saying that she would die in childbirth and her baby would be severely compromised. However, my mother refused and began praying, instead, for God to help her give birth to a healthy child.
When my mother was ready to deliver, her physician considered this suicide and literally ignored her—although she was pregnant, herself, at that time. But God didn’t abandon her. Another woman was close to delivery, and they called a doctor from another department to help her while she was in labor. But for some reason, he attended to my mother instead.
The miracle was that I was born healthy—and my mother survived it, too. Her first words that day were, “Thank God, Vera,” so they gave me that name.
In time, all my family became believers, and people would gather at our house to study the Bible. My sister and I regularly attended church, and as a child, my faith in God was lively and fervent. My mother often felt unwell due to her heart disease, and during the summer, I’d go to our garden to pray for her. Then I’d run home and ask, “Mom, are you better?” As a rule, she did get better because I sincerely believed that God would help her. After all, Jesus promised, “According to your faith, let it be to you.” Matthew 9:29.
However, my older brother was not a believer. He loved to spend time with his friends, and my mother was worried about him. One day, we all went to bed before he got home. Then, at two o’clock in the morning, my mother woke me up to pray for him. It had been a cold night, and at dawn, he had crawled up to the stoop and lost consciousness. That night, on the banks of the river, he’d been beaten and stripped of his warm coat and clothes. Apparently, they had wanted to drown him in an ice-hole, but suddenly—at 2 o’clock in the morning—they decided not to.
At this time, the Russian laws forbade any of us to talk about God or distribute any religious literature. But my mother and sister secretly printed and distributed Bible lessons, and I helped bind them.
Mom was also very generous and friendly, so we often had guests at our home. She worked as a housewife and looked after our numerous greenhouses. She always gave away the first fruits from her garden to the poor people, left the necessary part for us for food, and sold the rest. God always abundantly blessed our family with whatever was necessary, and our harvest was always better than that of our neighbors. Although our neighbors always sprayed their potatoes with poisonous pesticides, Mom always picked off the potato beetles by hand. And despite their modern methods of pest control, their potatoes always grew small, while ours were large and tasty!
Mom always relied on God in everything. During the summer, our neighbors cut and scattered hay several times to dry it, but my mother didn’t have time to do this, and her health was weak, so she prayed that God would take care of this so our cow would not be left without food. She said: “God will water, and God will dry,” and indeed, the hay was dry at summer’s end, and our cow had enough for the whole winter.
Mom tried her best to use natural means to maintain and improve her health. She brewed various medicinal herbs and fasted, meanwhile doing everything around the house, skiing, and leading an active lifestyle. She sang in the church choir and would often say, “Joy heals the heart!” And so, she lived to be eighty years old.
Her faith inspired me—and all those whose lives she touched.
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