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As Howard stood in his room with his wife and another student, suddenly he screamed and dropped to the floor in agony.

“I had a perforation of the small stomach, known as the duodenum,” he recalls.

His thoughts floated back again to himself as a nine-year-old in Sunday School, “I remembered myself singing “Jesus Loves Me,” and I could feel it inside me. I’m not going to think anymore; I’m going to ask him.” “I’ve got nothing else to lose.

As a child, I thought Jesus was really cool and he was my buddy and he would take care of me.” “But even if Jesus is real, why would he care about me? I’ll give Jesus a try.” A cry for help Then he yelled into the darkness, “Jesus, please save me!

At first, Howard thought he was shot, and he glanced around the room to see if he could spot a smoking gun.

“I was a double atheist,” says Howard Storm, who became a tenured art professor at Northern Kentucky University by age 27.

“I was a know-it-all college professor, and universities are some of the most closed-minded places there are,” he notes.

On the last day of a three-week European art tour he led, his group had returned to their hotel in Paris after a visit to the artist Delacroix’s home and studio.

” Within an instant, a brilliant light appeared that came closer and closer.

He found himself bathed in a beautiful light, and for the first time he could clearly see his own body’s miserable condition, ghastly for his own eyes to behold.

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