Proof The Bible Is True

This is crazy, I thought. I trudged through the wet forest, ducking beneath dripping branches, trying not to slip, keeping my eyes peeled for movement among the trees. By my side, one of my two two-year-old Newfoundland dogs, Ruby, sniffed at muddy tree trunks.

 

“Nike!” I shouted into the wild, “Come here, girl! C’mon!” Only silence answered. No throaty bark, no snapping twigs or flurry of leaves that signaled Ruby’s best friend barreling through the underbrush. There’d been no sign of her for two days. Still, I hiked on. I was following a lead.

 

A crazy lead, an impossible one. But Peter had been so insistent, and he was always the practical one in our marriage. Nike was out here somewhere, possibly hurt, or worse. Crazy and impossible was better than giving up.

 

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