“Dear Heavenly Father,” I scrawled, crouching in the dim hallway light at the top of the stairs. My diary looked blurry through my tears. I’d been waiting for a boy to call. I’d hoped he would ask me to the prom, but the phone never rang.
At 2:00 a.m. I was wide awake and depressed. So I crawled out of the bedroom I shared with my sister and began a letter to God.
Fights with siblings, worries about school, issues with friends—I told God all of it. “Will a boy ever want to ask me out?” I wrote. “Will I always feel so unloved?”
I wondered if God would ever give me an answer. Just then a bright light illuminated the hallway, all the way to the bottom of the stairs. Within the bright, yellow light, I felt a strong presence. I heard a message: “You are loved beyond anything you could imagine.”
A rush of love hit me. It was overwhelming. I ran from the light into the darkness of my bedroom, not sure exactly what to make of what I’d just seen and heard.
When I awoke the next morning, everything looked the same. My room, my house, my family—but something had changed. I was different: happy in the knowledge that I was so very precious to God. My diary had helped me ask God questions, and he had given me the most important answer of my life.
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