A recent devotional from Celebrate Recovery read:

When our daughter called recently sick with the flu and could barely talk over the phone, I packed my bag & headed her way. It was snowing and the roads were treacherous in places. There were signs flashing every few miles, "Road Icy, Use Slower Speed." Some cars were flying by at regular speed. I took my time and decided I didn't care if others were passing me. I was going to do what the sign said. Traveling the snow-packed mountain roads I realized I was holding my breath & griping the steering wheel. I started talking to God out loud and asking for protection. I made a conscious effort to breathe deeply and focus on God being there for me. And you know what? Along the way I saw 3 car wrecks with ambulances, cops and fire trucks. I prayed for them as I slowly made it to our daughter's home safe and sound. 

Success guru Bob Harrison shares the story of a twelve year old by who was snorkeling in a river when he was bitten on the head by an alligator:

Seeing the emergency, the boy's mother reached out and yanked her son from the moth of the eleven-foot alligator. The ensuing struggle broke the child's leg but saved his life.

In times of emergency, many people somehow receive the courage and ability to do what is seemingly impossible. However, in the normal course of life, if something seems too difficult for them or when they are confronted with what seems impossible, they either don't try or they give up.

Bob Harrison is a Best-selling author and noted seminar/conference speaker. His motivational teachings on "success" have been shared with thousands of seminar groups, churches, conferences, companies, and television audiences worldwide.

Senator John McCain - American patriot, war hero, prisoner of war - recalls an incident of patriotism and heroism inside the Vietnamese prison camp, the 'Hanoi Hilton':

"Let me tell you what I think about our Pledge of Allegiance, our flag and our country. I want to tell you about when I was a prisoner of war. 

"I spent five years in the Hanoi Hilton. In the early years of our imprisonment, the North Vietnamese kept us in solitary confinement two or three to a cell.

"In 1971, the North Vietnamese moved us from these conditions of isolation into large rooms with as many as 30 to 40 men to a room. This was, as you can imagine, a wonderful change . . . and a direct result of the efforts of millions of Americans, led by people like Nancy and Ronald Reagan, on behalf of a few hundred POWs, 10,000 miles from home.

"One of the men moved into my cell was Mike Christian. Mike came from a small town near Selma, Ala. He didn't wear a pair of shoes until he was 13 years old. At 17, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. He later earned a commission. He became a naval flying officer and was shot down and captured in 1967.

"Mike had a keen and deep appreciation for the opportunities this country -- and our military -- provide for people who want to work and want to succeed.

"The uniforms we wore in prison consisted of a blue short-sleeved shirt, trousers that looked like pajama trousers and rubber sandals that were made out of automobile tires. (I recommend then highly; one pair lasted my entire stay.)

"As part of the change in treatment, the Vietnamese allowed some prisoners to receive packages from home. In some of these packages were handkerchiefs, scarves and other items of clothing. Mike got himself a piece of white cloth and a piece of red cloth and fashioned himself a bamboo needle. Over a period of a couple of months, he sewed the American flag on the inside of his shirt.

"Every afternoon, before we had a bowl of soup, we would hang Mike's shirt on the wall of our cell and say the Pledge of Allegiance. I know that saying the Pledge of Allegiance may not seem the most important or meaningful part of our day now, but I can assure you that for those men in that stark prison cell, it was, indeed, the most important and meaningful event of our day.

"One day, the Vietnamese searched our cell and discovered Mike's shirt with the flag sewn inside and removed it. That evening they returned, opened the door of the cell, called for Mike Christian to come out, closed the door of the cell and, for the benefit of all of us, beat Mike Christian severely for the next couple of hours.

"Then they opened the door of the cell and threw him back inside.

"He was not in good shape. We tried to comfort and take care of him as well as we could. The cell in which we lived had a concrete slab in the middle on which we slept and four naked light bulbs in each corner of the room.

"After things quieted down, I went to lie down to go to sleep. As I did, I happened to look in the corner of the room. Sitting there, beneath that dim light bulb, with a piece of white cloth, a piece of red cloth, another shirt and his bamboo needle, was my friend, Mike Christian.

"Sitting there, with his eyes almost shut from his beating, making another American flag.

"He was not making the flag because it made Mike Christian feel better. He was making that flag because he knew how important it was for us to be able to pledge our allegiance to our flag and country.

"Duty, honor, country. We must never forget those thousands of Americans who, with their courage, with their sacrifice and with their lives, made those words live for all of us."