The Believer

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Since my divorce about a year ago, I’ve lost my house, my financial security, and my relationship with my children. However, I have not lost my God. Praying to Him every day, I give my thanks for what I do have, and attend church every Sunday. I live for Him and absolutely am not ashamed to admit it.
In my times of need God has always been there to listen. Sometimes I wonder why he doesn’t help me more than he does, but as long as all of my faith is in him, I will be rewarded soon enough. My everlasting life in Heaven will be pure ecstasy; that is what I look forward to.
Early Sunday morning and the drive to church isn’t too far, about fifteen minutes. Stopping at a gas station to fill up my tank, I use money that shouldn’t be spent. About to pull out of the parking lot, I look left, right, left. Pulling out left, I’m bulldozed by a maniacally driven truck.

Against my tiny car, the truck is overpowering. I part my eyes for a split second, just in time to see the driver speed away. My body is throbbing. I know what is happening but I thought it was supposed to be painless. Where is the bright light? Where is the Angel of Death to escort me to my Paradise? All I see is black. All I hear is black. All I feel is black.
So this is death.





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