One Sunday morning a certain country preacher opened a sermon on faith with these words: “My dear brothers and sisters, your fields are drying up and you have come here to pray for rain. But where are your umbrellas?”
At the age of four, I knew that God was everywhere. I spoke to Him…But as I grew toward manhood, the more I learned, the less I believed in God…When I was twenty-one, my superior intellect told me that God was a fake. Heaven could not be “up” and Hell could not be “down” because in space there is no up or down. And I knew that everything in creation dies, including the smallest insect and the biggest star.
These words were written by Jim Bishop, the author of many best-selling biographies and histories. “Then one day,” he said,
I felt a new experience. I saw the miracle of birth — Virginia Lee, a child of my own — and it turned my…
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