I believe in prayer. It's the best way we have to draw strength

Josephine Baker, the dazzling star who danced across continents and defied the boundaries of her time, once revealed the quiet power beneath her brilliance: “I believe in prayer. It's the best way we have to draw strength from heaven.” These words are not the ornaments of performance, but the confession of a heart that knew suffering, exile, struggle, and triumph. Behind the glitter of the stage was a soul that sought not only applause from men, but strength from heaven, a strength that could not be taken away by poverty, racism, or war.

For what is prayer but the bridge between earth and the divine? It is the lifting of the heart, the surrender of burdens, the seeking of guidance beyond the frailty of human will. Many believe strength comes only from the body or the mind, yet Baker reminds us that the deepest strength comes from above, flowing into us when we bend in humility and lift our voices in trust. Prayer is not weakness; it is alignment with a source greater than ourselves.

Consider how Josephine herself lived this truth. Born into hardship in America, she faced the wounds of racism and the trials of poverty. Yet she rose to become one of the most celebrated performers in Paris, and beyond the lights of the stage, she risked her life as a spy for the French Resistance in World War II. Where did she draw the courage to face danger, to endure rejection, and to fight for freedom? Her words reveal it: she found strength from heaven, sustained by prayer when the weight of the world pressed heavily upon her.

History offers many such echoes. Recall Joan of Arc, a simple maiden who stood before kings and armies, declaring that her strength came not from herself but from the voices of heaven. In the midst of fire and blood, she prayed, and from her prayer flowed the resolve to lift a nation. Or consider Abraham Lincoln, bowed under the crushing burden of civil war, who confessed that he often fell upon his knees because he had nowhere else to go. From heaven he sought, and from heaven he received, the strength to endure.

Baker’s words also remind us that prayer is not escape from the world, but fuel for action within it. To pray is not to retreat into passivity, but to root oneself in a power that steadies the heart and clears the mind. The one who prays with sincerity rises stronger, more patient, more enduring, and more compassionate. Just as the tree draws water unseen through its roots, so the soul through prayer draws nourishment from the eternal, bearing fruit in time of drought.

The lesson is clear: when burdens weigh upon you, do not rely on your own strength alone. Bow your head, open your heart, and draw from the source above. Make prayer a daily discipline, whether through words, silence, or the simple act of gratitude. Seek not only help for yourself, but also blessing for others, for in this giving, heaven pours back more strength into your soul. In the quiet act of prayer, storms are calmed, fears are stilled, and courage is born anew.

Therefore, O listener, carry Baker’s wisdom into your life: let prayer be your anchor in the storm, your lantern in the night, your wellspring in the desert. Do not despise it as small, nor neglect it as optional. For when your strength falters, when your body is weary, when your mind is clouded—lift your heart to heaven. There you will find the inexhaustible strength that sustained saints, warriors, and dreamers, and it will sustain you also. In this way, you too shall draw from the eternal source and walk through life unbroken, radiant, and strong.