Proof The Bible Is True

My mother’s patio was a mess. There was clutter everywhere—dead leaves under the table and chairs, bird droppings on the cement flooring, weeds encroaching in the adjacent flowerbed. Mom hadn’t been out there in ages.

Maybe I should clean it up, I thought every so often. But I never got around to it. So I couldn’t explain why, one Sunday, I showed up on her doorstep, unannounced, in my gardening clothes. “Mom, I’m going to do some sprucing up out back,” I said.

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