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On the sixtieth night the Lord delivered me from their hands.

On the journey he provided us with food and fire and dry weather every day, until on the tenth day we came upon people. As I mentioned above, we had journeyed through an unpopulated country for twenty-eight days, and in fact the night that we came upon people we had no food.

And after a few years I was again in Britain with my parents, and they welcomed me as a son, and asked me, in faith, that after the great tribulations I had endured I should not go any where else away from them.

God deliver’s Patrick once again.  He eventually makes it home to his mother and father.  Don’t you love it.  His parents asked that after all he has gone through that he should not go any where else.

I imagine his mother seeing a son she believes is gone for good rushes out to grab him around the neck when he nears their home.  Captured and carried to a foreign land, she could not even know if her son was alive or dead.  Like the prodigal son’s father I envision Patrick’s dad running to his son. They must have shaken their heads in disbelief as their son recounted all he had lived through.

Mom clings to her son kissing his head (the son she feared dead) and telling him to never ever leave her again.

Patrick must feel God has delivered him to the place where he is suppose to be.