Proof The Bible Is True

I watched in horror from the stair­case as the water gushed through the front door. The smell of salt water filled the air, mist hitting me in the face. I stepped off the last step into the ankle-deep flood and gasped. The level was rising. And fast.

 

I had to get help. I sloshed through the flood to the living room. That’s when I saw him. Sitting in the middle of the room on top of a pillow, with­out a care in the world. A baby in a white bodysuit. He was about seven months old, chewing on his left hand as if he was teething. His jet-black hair hung over his ears, elf-like. The water swirled around him without ever making contact. As if some invisible force were shielding him. The baby sat there and stared, completely at peace. And somehow I knew. His name, it was Marcos….

I woke up in bed with a start, my heart thumping. I sat up and peeked over the edge of my bed. No sign of water. Thank God! Just a dream. A very real dream. Who in the world was Marcos? And why was I dream­ing about him?

 

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