The world around Alex felt oddly quiet, like a muted song hanging in the air. The last thing he remembered was the rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors and the muffled sobs of someone—Mia? beside him. But now, the world had shifted.
He was no longer tethered to his body. Stood facing his body, Alex gazed in disbelief. His body lay pale and still, wires snaking across his chest, monitors blinking with mechanical precision. Beside him, Mia sat hunched over, her head resting against the edge of the bed. Her lips moved, whispering words he couldn't quite catch, though her trembling shoulders spoke volumes.
"Mia!" Alex called out, his voice echoing in the stillness. "Mia, I'm here!"
She didn't respond. He reached out instinctively, but his hand passed through her like a ghost through a veil.
A pang of desperation surged through him. He tried again. "Mia! Mia! Look at me!"
Still, nothing. She clutched his lifeless hand, her fingers white-knuckled against his skin. He could feel her grief like an echo in his chest, though his own body felt distant, like an anchor left behind.
Then, everything changed.
A light—a warm, radiant light—filled the room. It wasn't harsh or blinding but pure and inviting. Alex turned, and there, standing next to him, was a figure unlike anything he had ever seen. Clothed in white that seemed woven from threads of light, the presence exuded a peace that stilled every frantic thought in Alex's mind. The Spirit of the Lord.
"Alex," the Spirit said, His voice resonating like a melody that carried both authority and compassion. It wasn't audible in the way voices usually were, but Alex heard it deeply, in the core of his being.
Alex's breath—or what remained of it—caught in his throat. "Who… who are you?"
"I am the Spirit of the Lord," the Spirit said, His gaze gentle yet piercing. "Do not fear. You are in My hands."
Alex looked back at his body on the bed, then at Mia, who was now silently weeping into her hands. "Am I… dead?"
The Spirit shook His head. "No, Alex. It is not your time. Your life on earth is not finished."
A flood of emotions overwhelmed Alex—relief, confusion, and a tinge of fear. "Then why am I here? Why am I outside my body?"
"To see. To understand," the Spirit replied. "You have been living as though your days were your own, as though your path were your own to decide. But your life was written long before you took your first breath. And your purpose is greater than you know."
"My purpose?" Alex repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "What purpose?"
The Spirit stepped closer, the light emanating from Him seeming to pulse with life. "You have been called to save lives, Alex. Not only with your hands but with your heart, with your faith. There are souls waiting for you—souls only you can reach. God is giving you another chance. Not because you have earned it, but because of His grace."
Alex felt a lump rise in his throat. "But I've messed up so much… I don't deserve—"
"No one deserves it," the Holy Spirit said, cutting through Alex's self-doubt. "But God's love is not earned; it is given freely. And now, you must return. There is work to be done."
Alex looked down at his body again. He saw the fragile rise and fall of his chest, the faintest spark of life flickering within him. He saw Mia, her face buried in her hands, and something inside him ached deeply.
"But what if I fail? What if I'm not enough?"
The Holy Spirit placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, and the touch filled him with warmth and assurance. "You will not do this alone. I will be with you, guiding you every step of the way. Trust in the Lord, Alex, and you will fulfill your destiny."
The room began to shift. The light around the Spirit grew brighter, enveloping everything. Alex felt himself being pulled, gently but firmly, back toward his body. The sensation was like slipping into a familiar coat—awkward at first, but then right.
As his spirit merged with his physical form, he opened his eyes to see Mia's tear-streaked face. Her head shot up as she felt his hand twitch in hers.
"Alex?" she whispered, hope trembling in her voice.
He managed a weak smile, his voice hoarse but steady. "I'm here, Mia."
Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her forehead against his hand. "I thought I lost you…"
"You didn't," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Not yet."
In his heart, Alex knew his life had been given back to him—not just for himself, but for something far greater. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a deep sense of purpose settle within him.
He had been saved to save others.