In the final hour of one’s life they are filled with great love and compassion for the world and mankind, knowing there is no other place to go but right here, as heaven’s door opens to welcome those who come. But first, hope must enter, hope for the world to change as hearts begin to see that all the hell in the world comes from inside. In the final hour when you are woke from your sleep you enter a place of fear and love mixed. It is a choice where you live. If one chooses love the battle is not over but just begins. For all the fears in one’s life is uncovered like small pebbles so not to lose sight of where you are headed, the garden of healing. If uncovered to quickly you may fall into oblivion, the hell hole within. Can you get out? Yes, yes you can but the fight is even harder once you are there. This is the world’s turmoil and fears that live inside being created. It is your choice to live there or not. It is not easy coming out, but it is even harder remaining with those who do not see, for they will never believe in the meek that walk the earth and the footstool that is moved. My story is long and hard to understand and even harder to tell. It requires not believing in what you have been living in, losing the life you once lived and living again right here right now, this is where change begins. The battle ground carries no weapons of war, but a showing of faith can change the world. Sometimes it requires turning one’s cheek in disbelief. In disbelief you chose your ground or garden, in the final hour, my life changes with the rising of the sun and the rising of the night an endless adventure I will love as the world changes one by one, in the final hour.