30 Nights with God

Prologue


I didn’t always see angels. But after spending thirty nights with God, I see angels everywhere. They are all shapes, sizes, colors, both genders, visible and invisible. No, of course I can’t see invisible angels. I only see their actions. Like when your hat blows off and you chase it away from the street where you were about to step in front of a bus because you were worrying about your sick son at home…
But I digress.
Yes, I see angels now. Being exposed to the Trinity that is God for thirty straight nights will do that to you. Although I do not recommend in any way, shape, or form that you do what I did. I took the hard road. The toughest road. The life or death road. I want to tell you my story, in the hopes that you will choose another path.
Choose life, not death.
Choose truth, not lies.
Choose God, not addictions.
This is my story as best I can recall. Given that I have seen the face of God and lived to tell the tale.
Day One
November 6th

I do not remember much about that first day except that I was angry. I was sedated most of the time. When the pills wore off, I was mean and argumentative. Being locked in a ten by twelve room was not what I wanted. And I told the doctors, nurses, attendants, counselors, kitchen help and janitors just that at the top of my lungs.
They showed me the admission papers at about six o’clock that evening, during a brief coherent moment of calm, before I fell back to sleep. At 5:35 a.m. on a Tuesday in November, after having my stomach pumped free of the twenty-seven sleeping pills I had taken, I confessed to being suicidal. I checked myself in and gave them permission to keep me until they decided to release me. Not me. I waived my right to decide when to leave. In a lucid moment of deep overwhelming pain, I told them I wanted to get better. I wanted to live.
What a load of crap!