Proof The Bible Is True

It was before dawn when I felt someone pulling at the bed sheets. “Too early, go back to sleep,” I mumbled. The tugging continued. I cracked open my right eye. The blurry figure of my five-year-old son, James, climbed beneath the covers. Strange, I thought. He never asked to sleep with his dad and me before, and now he was too big to fit comfortably in our bed. I wanted to shoo him away. But a voice in the dark argued against me–“Keep him with you, it’s only an hour.”

 

Was that my husband, Ed? I turned towards the clock. Indeed, there was exactly an hour left until our alarm would go off. I was too tired to question the voice—or my son—further. “Just this one time you can sleep here,” I whispered to James. He was already unconscious. Soon I was too.

 

Violent shaking woke me up again. The blankets were ripped off, tossed aside. What was going on? I flipped on the light.

 

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