Testimony of Healing September 2, 1985 Issue

One Wednesday night after our branch church...

YRSA GRASSHOFF

One Wednesday night after our branch church testimony meeting, I came home to a darkened house. As I entered, someone grabbed me from behind and wrestled me to the floor. My first reaction was to resist physically with all my power, but I was easily overpowered by a man who assured me he wished me no harm. He said he had a gun, so I had better submit to him.

I had found myself in a similar situation a few years prior to this incident. I was so petrified then that I felt unable to pray. I was very much the victim, and although I was not raped, it took me months to overcome the fear of being alone at night. I came to see it as an overt, aggressive attack on my womanhood. At the time, I had moved into a new home and was joyously working to improve it. But I felt tempted to believe that, as a single woman, I was not safe living in my own home. I had to work prayerfully to reverse this distorted notion in my own thinking. I knew that if I was to demonstrate my freedom, I must not run but face such fears squarely. In the following months I prayed to know that the only need I had was to rely totally on God for my security. He is ever with us, meeting our needs at all times.

I now, on this Wednesday evening, was being challenged to live these truths. I refused to believe I was a frail female who had no recourse but to yield. My strong desire to resist this attack assured me that my previous prayers had not been ineffective. However, I also knew that this battle could not be won by physical resistance alone. I needed to and did turn to a power far stronger than physical might—God's ever-present power of Love. I began to pray aloud. As I look back, though, I realize that I was led to pray not for myself but for this young man. I said audibly, "You are God's image and likeness. He loves you and cares for you. You don't have to act this way." I could sense an immediate response. He was receptive to the truth and told me to continue. As he paced back and forth, I lay on the floor in the dark and talked of Christ Jesus and the Bible, of Mary Magdalene and of Jesus' compassion for her. I had no fear; rather compassion filled my thought, and my only desire was to help this young man.

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Testimony of Healing

Shortly before Christmas in 1981 I became ill