I was in a relationship with a dangerous man, the kind that lived on the edge of the law, did drugs, and had many lady friends. Looking back, I realize how stupid I was, but back then, I thought I was in love. This guy would just show up on my doorstep at the oddest hours of the night, looking for a place to crash, and I would always let him stay.

Well, one night I woke up and I could have sworn he was on his knees at the foot of the bed saying, Dear God, please help me! Actually, his voice was raised, and he sounded desperate. But he wasn’t on the floor; he was in bed, so I thought I was having a dream. And maybe I was.

I was really wrestling with myself about this going nowhere relationship. My conscience was bothering me, and my self-respect begged for resolution. A sign on a local church helped me. It read: The mighty oak was once a nut that stood its ground. I realized that the only way the relationship would ever change, one way or the other, was for me to take a stand, and so I did. The next time he showed up in the middle of the night, I told him he’d have to find another place to sleep. He took it well and left quickly. I, of course, kicked myself and wondered if I’d done the right thing.

It wasn’t a week later that I got the news: he had been murdered, probably in a drug deal gone bad. He was found, are you ready? ON HIS KNEES!!! I remembered that night, the night I heard him cry in my dream and wondered: did he call out to God in his final moments?