1. My brother died on the morning of November 10, 2002.
2. My brother was buried in the afternoon of November 24, 2002.
3. My family spent the intervening two weeks praying for his resurrection.
4. It didn’t happen.
We moved to Summit County in July of 1999, when I was four years old. My parents came because they were Charismatic Christians who believed in prophecy, and because they believed that God had told them in dreams and the words of others to leave the thriving spiritual climes of Kansas City and move to the mountains of Colorado. My father bought a red pick-up and invested a small fortune in tools to open his own home repair service, which he ran out of his truck and our garage. We rented an unstained, single-level ranch home in Silverthorne’s residential corridor: a chain-link fence, a sleepy church catty-corner to our property, half an acre of adjacent weeds to forage for insects in, and across the street, an even smaller rental that my father managed to supplement his income. On Sundays, my parents drove up to Omega Outpost Baptist Church in Breckenridge, where the… Read more »