Paul was walking home from a convenience store after picking up a quart of milk for his mom. The time was about 6:30 P.M. on a cold January night. Because Paul lived in the Northeast section of the United States it was already dark and the path home from the store was not very well lit. As a matter of fact, the sidewalk stopped along with the streetlights about halfway back to the apartment where his mother was cooking dinner.

Paul encountered Sarah, a friend from school at the check out line, and since they were headed the same way, they began walking together. They were talking about school and what it would be like to finally graduate in the spring. Paul had recently gotten his senior class picture taken while wearing a black tuxedo and was anxious to see how it would turn out.

As they approached the section where the sidewalk became a slope of grass and intermittent driveways, Paul was fielding questions from Sarah about his girlfriend, Vanessa. Were they going to go to the same college? Would they be getting married after graduation? They had been dating for almost a year and a half, and it seemed natural that they might be discussing marriage.

As Paul and Sarah moved toward the faint light from the lamppost across the street, a few more casual remarks and laughs were exchanged before it was time to cross. In a single motion, Paul turned his head to check for approaching traffic and stepped into the street. It was in that instant that he knew something was wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Paul saw the fleeting reflection of glass and metal. Sarah was still on the curb and in a moment, in an instant, in a fraction of a second, before a sound was uttered... it was over.

The flash of metal and glass was a car being driven by a drunk driver, traveling well over the speed limit, with its lights out. Sarah watched in horror as Paul's body was struck and slammed into the windshield, and flipped up into the air. The side view mirror of a van traveling in the opposite direction struck his head as he was on his way down, twisting his body before bouncing him onto the hard asphalt. Sarah tried to scream but nothing came out.

All at once the scene became a series of screeching tires, car horns, and shouting motorists.

"Someone get help!"

"Call the Police!"

"Call 911!"

"The kid's been hit!"

They were able to resuscitate Paul's body at the scene, but within a few days, there was no brain wave activity. Three days later, his parents were advised to sign a form, giving doctors permission to disconnect life support. Paul was gone.

That fateful day was January 17th, 1990.

Paul was my son.

I thought I'd never recover. There were no words that could convey the pain. There was no activity that could take away the emptiness. I began soul searching. I began to ask the really tough questions about life, and death, and suffering... but nothing seemed to provide the answers I so desperately needed. Where was Paul now? Was he healed? Will I see him again?

I buried the pain.

Years went by, and I didn't talk about it much. Then one day at work, I told someone who seemed very religious and familiar with the Bible about Paul, and what had happened to him. He began sharing his beliefs about where Paul was. He believed in "soul sleep". He began to tell me that Paul had ceased to exist, and had no conscious thought, and would remain so until Jesus Christ raised him from the dead.

I wasn't very religious myself, but this didn't sound like what I remembered from Sunday school. I was unarmed. I couldn't have an intelligent conversation with this person. He was reciting chapter and verse from the Bible, and I had never even read the Bible once. I needed to find out if what he was saying to me was true.

I picked a version of the Bible I found easy to read, and began. To my surprise... once I started reading the Bible, I couldn't stop! God put a hunger and thirst for his Word in my heart and I was devouring every sentence. I began to find not only the answers to my deepest questions, but to questions I hadn't even thought of yet.

...AND GOD GAVE ME PEACE.

What a relief! I was released from the bondage of grief and the anxious feeling that somehow God didn't make sense. The good news was that Paul knew Jesus! He was closer to God than I had ever been, and now because he accepted Christ as his personal savior, he was "absent from the body, and present with the Lord" (2 Cor 5:8)

And what has become of me? I now Pastor a church in Hulmeville, PA in the United States, I host the 5-A-Day Club web site devoted to scriptural literacy, and I have come to fully understand the true meaning of Romans 8:28...

"God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." (Rom 8:28)

And I know now that there is nothing more important in life... than to be ready for death. It can come in an instant.

If you haven't accepted Jesus as your personal savior, I urge you to do so before it is too late. Not only does it guarantee eternal life in heaven, but you will begin right now living a life of peace and understanding.

If you or someone you know is suffering from grief due to the passing on of a loved one, please send them this story. It's true. And the Bible contains pearls of wisdom and guidance. The Holy Spirit is upon anyone who reads his Word, truly seeking to know the heart, mind, and will of God.

And he will give you Peace.