All of the baggage and all of the depression and all of the pent-up anger had been released. It felt like someone had cleaned the filthiest and ugliest parts of me—parts that even I was too ashamed to deal with. Before that night, I wasn’t sure what I believed, but now I knew. God created this world. God was working through history. God sent Jesus to earth. Jesus died for me. The Bible was true, this Jesus thing was true, it was all true. Maybe this was the rescue I’d been hoping for. Maybe God was the father I’d been wanting. He had chosen me, and I had been bought at a price.
