Proof The Bible Is True

I could barely make out the keyhole in my front door through my tears as I fumbled with my keys.

What am I going to do? I thought.

I’d just been terminated, along with all of my coworkers. The family-owned car dealership where I worked was shutting down for good. In an instant, we’d all lost our jobs. Now I had to face the future alone.

It was times like this I missed my husband most. Together we could beat anything, but Warren had been dead for 16 years. I still miss you, I thought. Warren, I wish you were here. Making it on one income had been hard enough. Now I was facing real financial peril.

That night, I tossed and turned. When I woke up the next morning, I was determined to find another job fast. I could succeed. If I fought hard enough. I searched the internet, the newspaper, asked friends for leads.

But weeks went by with no luck. I was overqualified for one job, too inexperienced for another. I tried to keep busy volunteering with my church group.

“Don’t worry, Phyllis,” a friend in the group said after a meeting. “You’ll find something sooner or later.”

I nodded, but I was starting to have grave doubts. My unemployment wouldn’t last forever and I was already struggling to keep up with my bills. I barely had enough to live on, much less stay on top of my mortgage. I fell behind on my payments.

Then the moment I dreaded came. I stood in my kitchen holding a foreclosure notice in one hand and my bank statement in the other. In just a few weeks I was going to lose my house, the house Warren and I had purchased together in 1992.

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