The night of the gun was never-ending — until the day I surrendered to Christ

I remember the night my legs gave out.I woke up to my sister standing in my doorway. She was scared. Our parents were arguing behind a closed bedroom door, voices raised, something different in the tone this time. We walked down the hallway together and knocked.Through recovery and faith, I encountered Jesus not as religion but as relationship.When the door opened, my father was standing there with a loaded gun pressed to his head.My legs went numb. I collapsed onto the floor.Long night's journe...