Faith found me on the red stairs of the first home I remember. I looked up at the slanted ceiling and asked Jesus into my heart. No one walked me through the process. I knew confession, asking, and believing were the keys I needed to enter His presence forever.

Have I wavered in my faith?

In Him? No.

In others? Eventually, yes. With everyone.

No one is like Him.

He is to the five-year-old me what He will be to the soon-forty-five-year-old me.

He has been my constant companion through my forty years of desert.

He will be with me when I reach the edge of the Promised Land.

Only He can walk me through it.