My Wife Found God | Story of a Sacrifice

 

                                                

After her miscarriage, my wife started praying a lot. Which was odd. As far as I knew she didn’t even believe in God.

 

Every night, she would kneel at the foot of our bed, always in the same place, praying.

 

I gave her time and space to heal. I waited months to even bring up eventually trying again. We both wanted a kid.

 

“I don’t want another kid,” she said, “I want our son back.”

 

Son? We never learned the gender. How did she know it was a boy?

 

Slowly, she started praying more, longer. It wasn’t just before bed anymore. She’d kneel at the bed incessantly whispering to herself.

 

I’d finish a movie by myself and realize she’d been praying the whole time. Two hours?

 

Like I said, this wasn’t like her. I asked why she was praying so much.

 

“I’m talking to our son.”

 

“Honey, our son passed.”

 

“I know that. I’m not crazy. I’m talking to him on the other side.”

 

“Other side?”

 

“He’s safe over there. The Shepherd is taking care of him.”

 

“I think you might want to talk to someone. Professionally. This doesn’t seem healthy.”

 

She just laughed it off.

 

Sometime after that she stopped going to work. I had to beg her to take breaks just so she would eat. She would wake up, pray until she passed out, wake up, and pray again.

 

She was withering away. I needed to help her, I just couldn’t figure out how.

 

On the original due date of our son, she woke me up from the living room couch.

 

“It’s time,” she said, “I have to show you.”

 

She led me to our bedroom and insisted I pray right at the foot of the bed where she always did.

 

What could it hurt? I kneeled down, shut my eyes, and pressed my hands together.

 

I was transported to a different world, empty and dark. Before me was a Shepherd in a white frock with a green cowl. He held a crying infant that he dropped to the ground, laughing.

 

“He’s perfect,” the Shepherd said. “The perfect body!”

 

A wire around my neck snapped me back to my bedroom.

 

“The Shepherd said our son can come back, but he needs your body.” She pulled the wire tight. “Don’t struggle. Our son needs an intact body. But your soul can’t be in it.”

 

She had encased my hands with duct tape while they were pressed together praying. I couldn’t grab the wire.

 

The more I fought, the tighter the wire got.

 

Everything went dark, and I returned to the empty plane.

 

I walked over and picked up the crying baby. He had my wife's eyes, and my nose. Was this really our son?

 

But if I was here with him, that demon Shepherd is with my wife.

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