CONFESS TO ME: For God Until Him
Schedule, contacts.
Number.
"Praise the Lord," I whispered with more strength in my voice than usual for a prayer. I copied it, saved it in a blank contact and dialed.
It rang. And rang. Nobody answered.
I called again. Same result.
The third time I had already been biting my inner lip, whispering in hopes he would respond. The fourth time, I pressed the phone even tighter to my ear and prayed silently, the silent, desperate sort of prayer that is really more of a bargain than anything. My life depended on this; well, the next three months of it anyway.