Rayford held Mac by the shoulders. “Mac?” he said solemnly. “You know those 3-D images that look like a complicated pattern until you stare at it—” “Yeah, and you can make out some sort of a picture.” “Yes! There it is! I can see it!” “What?!” “It’s a cross! Oh, my word! It’s a cross, Mac!” Mac wrenched away and looked in the mirror again. He leaned to within inches of the glass and held his hair back from his forehead. “Why can’t I see it?” Rayford leaned into the mirror and held his own hair away from his forehead. “Wait! Do I have one too? Nope, I don’t see one.” Mac paled. “You do!” he
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Well here’s a gift of the Spirit I’ve never heard of before: seeing hallucinatory crosses on other Christian’s foreheads
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