There's a lot of well deserved bashing of religion and religious people here. A long boring Story of the last Christian, that gave my hope. In 1997 my bicep was almost torn off my arm in an industrial accident. The ulnar nerve was crushed and damaged badly. My right hand, was useless just dangling at the end of my arm. My wife and I were in the process of tearing each others hearts out splitting up. When I get to physical therapy. A tiny little woman is sitting at the "Hands" table. Her right hand looks like it has a scaffolding built around it. or maybe it's a miniature cell tower. We sat in silence staring at each other, for a few visits. Me trying to summon up enough mind control to flip a little wooden dowel with my index finger enough to make it roll just a few inches. I wasn't having any success. My third visit. They started dismantling the antenna array around her right hand. She was given a small foam ball like a Nerf ball. She was supposed to squeeze it as hard as she could with her thumb and index and middle fingers. i was watching her, struggle with this. It was cool in the physical therapist office, and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. I knew it was very painful. I was really pulling fir her, but it was agony to watch her and the beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. I said "You don't have to get better in one day, take a break" She said "I ain't no quitter white boy" I laughed at that. so we continued ragging on each other during or visits. A young guy with a back injury started coming in, when we were practicing our futility. He was a great big whiny brat "I can't it hurts" was what echoed across the room when he was there and his mother prayed constantly for him when she accompanied him. it set the entire room on edge. The head physical therapist would always come to our table after he left. " I wish all my patients could be like you" I said "specially me!" and they would both just shake their heads. We continued our get together till my little lady friend had her entire hand looking normal. I kept ragging her and she me about the young guy. "You gonna pull a junior today and quit?" When I finally started to make some progress. My little friend was as happy as me. She was on one of her last visits when I was able to hug her and tell her what and inspiration to me she had been. I said it would have been so easy for you to quit and not have to endure all the pain you did. She said " My life is my witness for God, To quit wouldn't say much for me or god" i was really floored because many times when Juniors mom was praying out loud "Oh help us Jesus! heal my son's back and make him whole again!!!" Harriet my little friend would say "she needs to quit praying and stick her foot up his ass!" i got a return hug the last time she was there and i was able to give her the middle finger. "I'm so proud of you white boy!' She did make me question my disbelief for a short time. when i grow up i want to be like her. She's one of my heroes! if anyone reading this is still awake. Does anyone else have someone that perhaps cast doubt on your unbelief