The flames consumed the night sky, crackling hungrily as they devoured the wooden beams of the Roth residence. Smoke billowed into the heavens, turning the air thick and unbreathable. Inside, televangelist Sid Roth lay asleep, unaware that the inferno was creeping toward his bedroom.
It wasn’t the blaring fire alarms that woke him—it was a whisper. A voice, gentle yet urgent, called his name. “Sid, wake up!”
His eyes shot open, and for a split second, everything seemed normal. Then he smelled it—smoke, thick and suffocating. Flames licked at the doorframe, casting eerie shadows against the walls. Heart pounding, he leaped from his bed, coughing as the acrid air filled his lungs.
Disoriented but guided by an inexplicable peace, he stumbled toward the hallway. The fire had spread rapidly, blocking the main exit. Heat seared his skin, and for the first time in his life, fear gripped him like an iron fist.
“God, help me!” he cried, shielding his face from the intense heat.
Then, as if time itself paused, he saw it—a path through the flames. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t possible. But it was there. Without hesitation, he ran through the opening, untouched by the fire. The moment he crossed the threshold, the roof collapsed behind him, sealing off the house in a fiery tomb.
Sid Roth stood in the cool grass, gasping for air, as firefighters swarmed the scene. Neighbors watched in shock, some whispering that it was a miracle.
Later, when asked how he survived, Roth simply smiled. “An angel woke me up,” he said. “And God made a way where there was no way.”
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