|
| God Works In Strange Ways |
God has a way of allowing us to be in the right place
at the right time.
I was walking down a dimly lit street late one evening
when I heard muffled screams coming from behind a clump
of bushes. Alarmed, I slowed down to listen and
panicked when I realized that what I was hearing were
the unmistakable sounds of a struggle, heavy grunting,
frantic scuffling and tearing of fabric. Only yards from
where I stood , a woman was being attacked.
Should I get involved?
I was frightened for my own safety and cursed myself for
having suddenly decided to take a new route home that
night. What if I became another statistic? Shouldn't I
just run to the nearest phone and call the police?
Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations in my
head had taken only seconds, but already the cries were
growing weaker. I knew I had to act fast. How could I
walk away from this? No, I finally resolved, I could
not turn my back on the fate of this unknown woman,
even if it meant risking my own life.
I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don't know
where I found the moral courage and physical strength -
but once I had finally resolved to help the girl, I
became strangely transformed.
I ran behind the bushes and pulled the assailant off
the woman. Grappling, we fell to the ground, where we
wrestled for a few minutes until the attacker jumped
up and escaped.
Panting hard, I scrambled upright and approached the
girl, who was crouched behind a tree, sobbing. In the
darkness, I could barely see her outline, but I could
certainly sense her trembling shock.
Not wanting to frighten her further, I at first spoke
to her from a distance. "It's OK," I said soothingly.
"The man ran away. You're safe now."
There was a long pause and then I heard the words,
uttered in wonder, in amazement. "Dad, is that you?"
And then, from behind the tree, stepped my youngest
daughter, Katherine. |
|
 |
|
