I was let off in the outskirts of Paris; Roberto took all the guns to drop in the Seine. I watched as they drove on, words burning into my own soul. I was a liar by my profession. I was a co-murder although unwilling possibly. I was put in a position I could have walked away from. Yet I would have lost my position with the M Agency, and would lose my job with the British service because of a moral stand. But I had knowingly gone through with it, because I had a higher calling. So what that we shot a murderer, he deserved it. Even he admitted it was his due. Why then was I so moved? Because he had something I lacked and deeply, deeply craved. I had an emptiness inside that yearned for the peace he had, even in the face of his imminent death. Oh I had no doubt that I could face death in a glorious hail of bullets while nobly performing my duty. But I would die empty; even if my death would benefit those I died for. He said the Spirit of God told him one of his executioners needed His forgiveness and love. That his death would underscore the shortness of this human existence, and the reckoning we must all face. We all go into eternity. But where will we go, to eternal damnation or eternal family? He didn’t know my soul. He didn’t know I truly needed a loving father. I always wanted to stand and be accepted, not hurt or ignored. His words of his knowing he was accepted, no matter how filthy he had lived and died in a pool of blood blasted from his body by his own fellow gang members, the only ‘family’ he had known after losing his natural parents and siblings. I knew he was facing the consequences of his life style. He could have run, but he did know they would track him down, just as his sins would cling to him if he ran from the grace of God in His forgiveness through His son. My motives were surely more honorable than his had been. But, I lived a life apart from God, who I ignored, but who apparently did not ignore me. I did not seek him out, yet from the testimony given to me personally, He had sought me out. I did not seek a church that week I was laying low. But I did buy a Bible. Oh, I had a Bible before, but it was only an inheritance gift from Mom’s relatives and only an accessory to the Christmas or Easter Sunday attire I wore to service. I don’t even know where it went when I moved to Paris. I read that Bible intensely, but not cover-to-cover, which I eventually hope to do. But I read the testimony of those founding fathers whom God made covenants with. I read the teachings of Christ, which I do not fully understand, but I read and read again the accounts of his suffering and death and glorious resurrection. I read Peter, James and John, eye witnesses and knew they had given all to follow one who they first mistook as a different rabbi, but came to know as the Promised Messiah, the Son of the Living God. It took the rabbi of rabbi’s Paul who testified that he met the Living Christ after his death on the cross. It radically changed his life from persecuting people of the Way, to becoming a founder of churches. I had moved from believing these were musty tales of mostly mythical heroes and sinners, to a historical account of fallible men confronted with a choice on who God was and did He keep His Word. I couldn’t get myself to believe everything I read, it was too hard to grasp, but I did believe that a God I could not really comprehend had revealed Who He was and His love for us by having His son crucified. The God I read about was nothing like the God I had made Him out to be. But I realized finally, I could not say who God was, God said who God is. It was the testimony of seeing a resurrected Christ that was a stumbling block to me. I was as Thomas, a doubter, and I questioned his doubt, for didn’t he get eye witness testimony from his own fellow travelers? How could I believe testimony thousands of years ago? But I then was struck by his own name, Thomas, also called the Twin. He, having been mistaken for his brother, thought possibly this Jesus who came out of Nazareth and Egypt, maybe it was a total scam, and it was his twin that presented himself as the dead walking to the other gullible disciples. But when he was confronted with the resurrected being who had the crucifixion wounds and talk to him personally as Jesus had when he taught them, convinced him who this was and it was by the power of God that a miracle was performed. You may think me rattled by my experience, and I surely was Uncle. But I prayed that God would reveal to me His reality before I began my search into His Word. I felt His presence as I read many of His words for the first time. I reflected on Alain Relais’s testimony and I got down on my knees and prayed that God forgive my own sinful heart and Jesus to become my Lord and Savior. I didn’t feel like a new man, but I felt like a dastardly prisoner pardoned.