Draw Near



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"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them,

and I will raise them up at the last day."—John 6:44

Kim Bond's Non-fiction Salvation Testimony

[December 1996] Like many college students, it was common for me to stay up late. This particular night, I wrote a letter and listened to music in my living room. It was 2:50 a.m.; I know for certain because I stepped into the kitchen to glance at the mauve wall clock that hung against the floral-patterned wallpaper.

When I turned slightly away from the clock, I heard a voice. The booming voice said to me, “God is real, and the Bible is truth. My body warmed and tingled. I stood there in shock. When I finally regained my composure, I returned to my living room to consider the strange event that had just occurred.

I did not believe in the Bible, nor did I believe in God. I was acquainted with the gospel, but I considered it too unrealistic to ever be true. Yet here I sat, confronted with an experience ill-fitted for my atheistic belief system. And so I became a Christian overnight. The experience was real—real enough for me to change my beliefs and way of life.

I modeled my habits after the activities that seemed inconsistent with Christianity and began attending church regularly. With my new Christian ways, I was eager to resume life as usual. God, however, had other plans. While I believe he appreciated my token sacrifices, He had so many other changes planned for my life. As I prayed, strange requests rose from my lips. Instead of asking for increasing beauty, I asked for increasing humility. Rather than praying to win lottery money, I prayed to forgive the people in my life. Additionally, the desire to be married and have children began to blossom in my heart.

These challenges are not as easily accomplished as a decision to go to church. In my case, they happened as a consequence of a transformation in the course of my life. And life did not hesitate to change considerably for me.

I am now married with two beautiful children and a strong faith in Christ. Over the years, the Lord has given me the opportunity to share my story of salvation with hundreds of people including the good people of Perm, Russia. Every year, I am amazed by the work God continues to do in my life.

This testimony is part of a published collection called Never Forsaken: A Testimony Collection. Click FREE EBOOKS to read the full publication.

A Poem
"I Will praise you, lord my god, with all my heart,
i will glorify your name forever." -psalm 86:12

by Kim Bond

We praise You for the mysterious sea
We fear Your glorious Name above all Names
More than the sharpness of shark fangs
We will forever sing of Your glory.
Oh, Architect of all Earth’s beauty,
King above all kings that reign,
Deliverer from our every chain,
You are so ever praiseworthy!
Your Son died and rose again,
He holds the keys to Your kingdom,
His blood washes clean our every sin.
Behold the Spirit He said You would send,
No one surpasses Him in wisdom,
He is our every-present friend.

This poem is part of a published collection called Creator: A Christian Poetry Collection. Click FREE EBOOKS to read the full publication.

A Short Story

"...Mercy triumphs over judgment."—James 2:13

The Other Me

by Kim Bond

I drove down the highway listening to talk radio when I glanced in the rear view mirror. That was when I saw me in the car behind me. It was a younger me. The me before the kids were born. The me before I needed a chiropractor.

That me was speeding. It reminded me how reckless I had been during those years. I hated that me. That me drove without headlights in the dark of night just for the challenge and stole from unlocked cars. I performed stupid stunts without regard for anyone else. That me could not fathom how challenging life would become without resorting to careless risks. As I cursed me, that me passed on the left and got in front of me.

I reminisced about the car the younger me drove. It was a gray Honda Civic. Boring-looking old thing, but I had some good times in that car. My college buddies and I penciled our autographs on the dashboard. We ate sunflower seeds and spit them right on the floor mats. I cannot recall changing the oil in the car—ever. Yet, the engine cranked up without complaint day after day.

As the younger me zoomed into the distance, I could only make out the bumper sticker’s white outline. I remembered the sticker said something funny and sped up to read it. Something about a chicken. Just then, traffic suddenly stopped.

The other me slammed on the brakes and skidded a few feet before coming to a perfect stop. A little less alert and agile, I also slammed on the brakes. My tires squealed right before my Buick crunched into the Honda’s rear end. It was only a mild collision and the other me was alright, so I mostly felt dread. How would I ever deal with me after an accident? I had no intention of apologizing to that young pleasure-monger. Still, I looked at the deadlocked traffic and got out of my car to hand over my insurance.

I could feel the other me try to make eye contact, but I averted my eyes. As I avoided eye contact with myself, I noticed all the other drivers gawking unsympathetically at my plight. Some talked on their cell phones—probably reporting the accident to local radio stations. Without a word, the other me walked to the bumper to inspect the damage.

Young me said, “Meh, it’s nothing. Forget about it.” With that, the other me let me go scot free.

As I returned to the driver’s seat, I reflected on how bitter I had become after life had dealt its remaining cards. After my salaried position became a part-time job. After the bank foreclosed on the home where we raised our children. After my wife had a stroke.

The younger me was the me she married. That me knew how to relax and have a good time. I was not reclusive then. I was much cooler when I was young. Stupid and selfish, but cool.

When traffic resumed a normal pace, I lost sight of the old me and exited the highway. I pulled into a gas station and purchased sunflower seeds for the first time in ten years. I could not bring myself to spit them on the floor mat.


This short story is part of a published collection called The Footstool: A Christian Short Story Collection. Click FREE EBOOKS to read the full publication. "The Other Me" was first published in Foliate Oak (November 2010) and later anthologized in Best of Foliate Oak (2010).