At 4AM on a Saturday, I woke up unable to breathe—my chest burning, my throat tight, panic rising. But in that terrifying moment, I didn’t pray. I didn’t call on God. Not because I didn’t love Him, but because I didn’t even think to. Now, two days later, I’m left asking: what if that was my last breath? This post isn’t just about a health scare—it’s about the danger of spiritual silence. About living unprepared. And about the mercy I now beg not to forget again.