A year ago a member of my church paid me a visit in the hospital. I was lying in bed with a partially fractured pelvis, staring at the ceiling. A week before that I had fallen down our steep driveway. I began telling him many stories about how the Lord had saved my worthless butt. I wanted him to know that I would not have survived if the Lord had not been there.
To my surprise He suggested I write a book. I did.
I believe there is a God and that there is a life following this one. This was written, because I feel strongly that if I didn’t write it that some day soon I might have to answer to a higher power for why I didn’t.