I was driving down the road to get money from the bank machine, so I could hop a plane first thing in the morning. It was dark. My son lay in a hospital in California, with a bullet in his head. The doctor gave him no chance to live. While I was driving, the hospital called my wife and told her Ben's brain had stopped.

Suddenly, the glove box flew open. "Ben is dead," I said in my heart. "This is a sign."

As I closed the glove box, I heard a voice say, "I didn't mean to hurt anyone." I looked to my right, and there was Ben's face, shining in the darkness.

"I know you didn't, Ben, I know you didn't," I replied. His face moved closer, until it was about one foot from my head.

"I am so, so sorry," he said.

"I know you are, Ben. I know you are," I replied. His face started to move again. Suddenly I felt his arm move around my back, as he hugged me tightly, and told me how much he loved me.

"I love you, too," I replied. "I love you very much. Jesus will forgive your sins."

"But I have done so many things wrong," he said.

"So have I Ben, so have I," I told him.

"But I have done so many more," he said.

"Jesus died for all our sins," I told him. He died for all of them." His face was calm and peaceful. I knew I could keep him no longer.

"Now go back to your body, " I said, "and God will give you life." Instantly, he was gone.

"Now it's just you and me, God," I said. In saying this, I realized God had been with us the whole time. I started singing loud songs of praise to Him and to Jesus.