He should’ve been dead by now. The accident? Fatal. The crash ripped the car in half—but somehow, he walked away without a single broken bone.
A few months later, the sickness hit. Doctors were confused. His body was shutting down, and they couldn’t explain why. They said, “Prepare to say goodbye.”
But he didn’t die. He got stronger.
No treatment, no logic—just prayer… and a miracle.
Then came the final test: a gun pointed straight at his head.
One second. One breath. One prayer: “God, please.”
The gun jammed.
The man ran.
He lived… again.
Three times. Three near-deaths. Three undeniable moments.
This isn’t luck. This isn’t coincidence.
This is GOD.
If you’ve felt His hand protect you, even once—say AMEN.
Your life was never meant to end there.
You were saved… for a reason.
