Proof The Bible Is True

Four days before the semester started, my son, Keith, decided he was going back to college. My husband, John, and I were thrilled. Keith had taken six months off after his sophomore year and we worried he’d never go back. His last year at Utah State had been less than stellar, but this time would be different. All he needs is a good roommate, I thought. Someone to watch out for him when our family can’t.

On such short notice, though, the university couldn’t guarantee him a dorm room, let alone a roommate. We packed the car—extra sheets, towels and winter clothes—and John drove Keith two hours to campus. They met the Resident Advisor at the dorm, ready to search for a room.

“This close to classes starting, things are kind of a mess,” the RA said, checking a list of rooms. “Let’s start on the first floor.” They took the elevator up and knocked on the door. “I already have a roommate,” the student said gruffly, and slammed the door.

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