Proof The Bible Is True

Everything—my whole world—felt gray, colorless, flat. The beeping machines of the ICU. The doctors and nurses who came in and out, sounds and images. All dim. Like I was trapped in a thick, inescapable fog.

 

I’d struggled with depression for years so I recognized the signs. I looked over at my husband, Rob, asleep in a chair in the corner. These last two weeks had been an ordeal for both of us. Why was I not getting better?

 

Nothing made sense. The doctors couldn’t even tell me what was wrong. I clenched my hands into tight fists. I felt…what was it exactly? It had been so long since I cared about anything. Even my emotions were muffled.

 

I thought back to when we’d come to the hospital, a Monday morning, Rob and I racing to the maternity unit at 5:00 a.m. I wasn’t due for another three weeks, but I’d started bleeding during the night.

 

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