I have submitted my second story to the folks at Chicken Soup For The Soul.  This is a true story about how the worst tragedy of my life miraculously changed my life for the better.  I would love to know what you think. Here it is. 

The Blessing I Never Saw Coming

      If you had told me two years ago that I would one day thank God for actually dying and going to hell and then lying in a hospital bed in agony, hooked up to a half dozen machines for months unable to walk or talk, I would’ve said you’re crazy.  
    Gratitude is easy when life is smooth, but when you’re flat on your back in a hospital bed, unable to move, gratitude feels like a foreign language. I couldn’t imagine then that my greatest suffering would become the doorway to the most meaningful chapter of my life.
     It all started with an illness that struck me without warning. One moment, I was living my life, caught up in the endless pursuit of success and security. The next, I was fighting for my life. My body shut down, my organs failed, and I experienced what I can only describe as dying. It wasn’t peaceful. It was terrifying, humbling, unforgettable and hellish.
      When I came back—against all odds—I wasn’t the same. Physically, I was weak. I couldn’t even turn over by myself, couldn’t walk, couldn’t even sit up without help. Emotionally, I was shaken to my core. Spiritually, though, something had shifted. I had glimpsed eternity, and I knew that God had spared me for a reason.
     But recovery was not instant. It took months of pain, physical therapy, and uncertainty. There were days I cried out, asking why I had been brought back only to face so many struggles. Slowly, a pattern began to emerge. Each setback revealed a hidden blessing. Each hardship came wrapped in a lesson about faith, humility, and gratitude.
     I began to see life through new eyes. The little things that once felt insignificant suddenly became sacred: sunlight streaming through my window, a cold drink with ice, a smiling face offering hope. I started keeping a gratitude list, not because everything was good, but because I finally understood that everything didn’t have to be good for me to be grateful.
     And then came the biggest surprise of all. My illness forced me to move to a new city—Bowling Green, Kentucky—a place I had never imagined calling home. At first, I was afraid. I had lived in Somerset all my life. I was uncertain, and afraid. But something inside me whispered, trust Me.
     So, I packed what I could and made the move, unsure of what waited for me on the other side. What I found was something I had longed for my entire life: peace.
     Bowling Green welcomed me like an old friend. For the first time in years, I felt like I belonged somewhere. There’s a warmth here that can’t be described in a brochure. People wave to you from their porches. Strangers smile at the grocery store. Faith still matters. Family still matters. And community is more than a word—it’s a way of life.
     And then there’s the simple joy of living again. I love driving downtown and seeing the  buildings lit up at night. I love Beech Bend, the museums, the coolness of the caves. I love the roar of the crowd at Hot Rods baseball games—the cheers, the laughter, the crack of a bat. Each sound feels like a reminder that I’m still alive, and that life, even with all its imperfections, is a gift worth celebrating.
     The greatest surprise came when I felt my calling for writing. It was as if God took everything I’d been through—every scar, every tear, every moment of pain—and gave it a voice. What started as a tale of pain and misery became stories of faith, hope, and redemption. Writing became my ministry. My books have become my testimony.
     Before I got sick, I chased money, recognition, and worldly success. I thought financial comfort equaled happiness. Now, I see how empty that pursuit was. I no longer lust after wealth. I wake up every day with a sense of purpose that money could never buy. I have a message to share—the message of God’s love, mercy, and grace—and I want the world to know that no matter how dark things get, there is always light waiting on the other side.
      I’ll never forget the place I went when I died. I don’t talk about it lightly. It was real, it was terrifying, and it was a wake-up call. I know without question that God brought me back because I have a mission: to warn, to encourage, and to point people to Jesus. I’ve learned that the greatest act of gratitude is to use your second chance to make a difference in the lives of others.
       Now, when people ask how I can be thankful for something that nearly killed me, I smile. Because the truth is, I didn’t just survive—I was transformed. My suffering stripped away everything that didn’t matter and left only what did: faith, love, and purpose.
     I count my blessings differently these days. I don’t measure them in possessions or accomplishments, but in moments of grace. Every breath is a blessing. Every sunrise is a miracle. Every person I get to share my story with is another opportunity to say, “God is good.”
     I once thought gratitude was about being thankful for the good things. Now I understand that true gratitude is being thankful in all things. Gratitude doesn’t erase pain—it redeems it. It turns tragedy into testimony, weakness into strength, and sorrow into joy.
     When I sit at my desk in Bowling Green and write, I sometimes think about the man I used to be—the one who thought happiness was something to be earned. That man is gone. In his place is someone who knows that happiness is found not in having everything, but in seeing everything differently.
      If you had told me during those long hospital nights that I would one day thank God for the sickness that brought me there, I would have laughed. But I see it now for what it was: a divine reset. God took my brokenness and used it to build something beautiful.
     Today, I wake up each morning and whisper, “Thank You.” Thank You for the pain that opened my eyes. Thank You for the weakness that made me strong. Thank You for the loss that taught me to love deeper. Thank You for the death that brought me life. And thank You for Bowling Green—a place that gave me a fresh start, a renewed spirit, and a reason to smile again.
     The next time there is a Hot Rods game I’ll probably be there, cheering from the stands with a smile on my face, grateful for every pitch, every cheer, every beat of my heart. Because I know what it means to almost lose it all—and I know now, more than ever, that even the darkest moments can lead to the brightest blessings.
     Sometimes, the greatest gifts come wrapped in pain. But if you trust God long enough to open them, you’ll find they contain something priceless: a new heart, a new purpose, and a brand-new gratitude for the life you’re given.