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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.