And then my father died.

For years I stayed away from my father because I was ashamed of what I had become and I did not want him to see it. While my father used alcohol for his PTSD, I used drugs.

When he died the shame hit me. This was all my fault. No one was responsible for my behavior but me. That shook me to the core, so one day as I drove to work I said in my heart that I wished I had remained in church all those years.

In that moment God spoke to me, perhaps as He did Abram, “What is stopping you from starting over?”

Matthew 3:2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

My first prayer answered was not according to design nor was my repentance. God knew my heart. I went home that night and began reading His Word and I haven’t stopped.