I hope in God, I pray on, and look yet for the answer. They are

“I hope in God, I pray on, and look yet for the answer. They are not converted yet, but they will be.” Thus spoke George Müller, the man of unshakable faith, whose life became a living testament to divine trust. These words, simple yet resounding with eternal strength, are not merely a statement of patience — they are the language of faith in its purest form. For Müller, hope was not a fleeting wish nor prayer a ritual; they were the very breath of his soul, the steady rhythm of a heart that believed even when all signs said otherwise. His declaration is not born of certainty in man, but of confidence in God’s timing, which moves not by haste, but by purpose.

The origin of this quote springs from Müller’s own long and faithful life of prayer. A 19th-century evangelist and founder of orphanages in Bristol, England, Müller dedicated his existence to caring for thousands of destitute children — all without ever asking a soul for money. He relied entirely on prayer and trust in God for every loaf of bread, every roof over their heads. But beyond the material miracles, he also prayed for the salvation of others, including five of his dearest friends. He prayed for them daily, year after year, sometimes for decades. When asked why he continued, even when no visible change appeared, he gave this immortal reply: “I hope in God, I pray on, and look yet for the answer.” His faith did not waver, for he believed that the power of prayer works not on man’s schedule, but on heaven’s.

What is most striking is the quiet certainty that fills these words. Müller does not say, “I hope they might be converted,” but “they will be.” His faith is not passive, not mere optimism; it is expectant belief — the kind that endures delay without despair. To him, hope is not an emotion but an anchor, a steadfast assurance that though the waves of life may roar, the promises of God remain unbroken. This is a lesson that the ancients too understood: that faith is not proven by results, but by perseverance. In the Scriptures, Abraham waited decades for the fulfillment of a single promise; Hannah prayed through tears for the child she had not yet conceived. Each carried the same spirit Müller embodied — to hope on and pray on, trusting that unseen hands were already at work.

Müller’s story did not end with unfulfilled prayers. One by one, over many years, the men for whom he interceded found their way to faith — some before his death, others long after. The last was said to have turned his heart to God years following Müller’s passing, as if heaven had waited to complete the promise only when its servant had gone home. This, too, reveals the mystery that faith transcends time. The prayers of the righteous do not die with them; they linger, like seeds beneath the soil, destined to bloom when the appointed season arrives.

The lesson of Müller’s words is therefore not about the speed of divine answers, but about the steadfastness of belief. In a world that measures worth by immediacy — where hope fades when outcomes delay — Müller’s example stands as a quiet rebuke. True faith, he teaches, is not the fire that flares bright and burns out, but the flame that endures through the coldest nights. To pray on is to declare, “I will not give up, for the promise is surer than my sight.” To hope in God is to rest not in what is seen, but in what is eternal.

History has known other souls who lived by such unyielding trust. Think of William Wilberforce, who fought for decades to end the British slave trade, often standing alone against the tide of greed and power. Like Müller, he refused to surrender hope, believing that truth, once born, cannot die. His victory came not quickly, but surely, because he never ceased to labor and to pray. The spirit of both men speaks the same truth: that patience born of faith is the mightiest weapon of all.

So, my child, take this wisdom to heart: do not measure your prayers by their speed, but by their sincerity. When answers seem far, remember Müller’s words — “I hope in God, I pray on.” For every prayer uttered in faith travels farther than you know; every act of love, every whisper of hope, is gathered by the Eternal. Persevere in goodness, even when unseen. Keep faith in the promise that what begins in prayer will end in glory. And when doubt creeps near, say as Müller did — “They are not converted yet, but they will be.” For the true miracle of faith is not in what it receives, but in how long it believes.