A SECOND
CHANCE
Unleashing The Power of Good - Written Word & Audio Version
You Are Giving A SECOND CHANCE... Now what are you going to do with it?
The doctor turned off the monitoring machine over Reverend Levin’s bed. The green and black screen was blinking intermittently, and then went into a steady beep. It was no use. That was over twelve hours ago, and although the doctor knew the reverend was clinically dead, there was something kept gnawing at his insides. Something kept telling him the reverend was not dead. Keep trying, you can bring him back. Just keep trying... But he was a man of studied medical science, and whatever he thought, or felt, could not go against his learned and practiced profession. The man was dead. Gone...
The doctor removed his surgical gloves, walked slowly across the room to the waste basket and threw them in. He returned to the table, took one last look at the big man, shook his head in defeat and took up his satchel. His work was done. Thirty-four years as a professional Medical Examiner told him it was over for the reverend. He pulled the sheet over the dead man’s face. As the doctor turned off the lights and was closing the doors, he heard the unmistakable rustling sound of clothes being moved. He stared through the darkness. He could barely see the inert clothed figure of the reverend on the bed. Something was wrong. He reached for the lights and flipped the switch. Light flooded the room. He stared dumbfounded at the scene before him. The reverend was sitting up.
“What on earth!
You are alive... but how could you be?” blurted the doctor, dropping his medicine bag on the cold concrete floor. A cold chill crosses his body; like something he had never experienced before in all his over 33 years of medical practice. The good doctor was simply scared out of his wits. The reverend ignored the question as he gentle removed his hospital gown which was soiled with dark bloody spots; evidence of his wounds.
“It’s a long and strange story, doc. I’ll tell you about it sometime...” and with that, Reverend Levin reached for his clothes, put them on and calmly walked out of the room...
About the same time while the reverend was walking out of the morgue, two miles away at the hospital where Sarah’s body was taken, doctors and nurses stared in amazement as she sat up, slowly reached for her clothes, dressed and walked out.
Willie was being transported to the local morgue when he got up from the stretcher, pulled at the hospital gown, making it more secured around his muscular torso, then stepped out of the fast-moving ambulance. The driver and his companion tried explaining Willie’s absence, but their superiors did not believe them.
The doctor turned off the monitoring machine over Reverend Levin’s bed. The green and black screen was blinking intermittently, and then went into a steady beep. It was no use. That was over twelve hours ago, and although the doctor knew the reverend was clinically dead, there was something kept gnawing at his insides. Something kept telling him the reverend was not dead. Keep trying, you can bring him back. Just keep trying... But he was a man of studied medical science, and whatever he thought, or felt, could not go against his learned and practiced profession. The man was dead. Gone...
The doctor removed his surgical gloves, walked slowly across the room to the waste basket and threw them in. He returned to the table, took one last look at the big man, shook his head in defeat and took up his satchel. His work was done. Thirty-four years as a professional Medical Examiner told him it was over for the reverend. He pulled the sheet over the dead man’s face. As the doctor turned off the lights and was closing the doors, he heard the unmistakable rustling sound of clothes being moved. He stared through the darkness. He could barely see the inert clothed figure of the reverend on the bed. Something was wrong. He reached for the lights and flipped the switch. Light flooded the room. He stared dumbfounded at the scene before him. The reverend was sitting up.
“What on earth!
You are alive... but how could you be?” blurted the doctor, dropping his medicine bag on the cold concrete floor. A cold chill crosses his body; like something he had never experienced before in all his over 33 years of medical practice. The good doctor was simply scared out of his wits. The reverend ignored the question as he gentle removed his hospital gown which was soiled with dark bloody spots; evidence of his wounds.
“It’s a long and strange story, doc. I’ll tell you about it sometime...” and with that, Reverend Levin reached for his clothes, put them on and calmly walked out of the room...
About the same time while the reverend was walking out of the morgue, two miles away at the hospital where Sarah’s body was taken, doctors and nurses stared in amazement as she sat up, slowly reached for her clothes, dressed and walked out.
Willie was being transported to the local morgue when he got up from the stretcher, pulled at the hospital gown, making it more secured around his muscular torso, then stepped out of the fast-moving ambulance. The driver and his companion tried explaining Willie’s absence, but their superiors did not believe them.