One afternoon a few years ago I was taking a book about spiritual healing to the library at the Pompidou Center in Paris. My church was offering the book to the library as a gift. Hoping the book would be accepted, I had prayed that it would be in a place where it would be helpful to people.
In the Metro, on my way to the library, I thought about how giving this book was an act of love, and that everything involved with it was under God's control. So it had to be good.
On my way to transfer to another line, I was alone on the platform inserting my ticket into the turnstile, when I heard quick footsteps behind me. Two young men jumped over the turnstiles.
At first I didn't pay any attention to them because my thought was so occupied in thinking about God and how He reigned over what I was doing. The two men walked ahead of me a few feet, then suddenly turned and faced me. One of them held a gun in his hand.
Immediately I heard myself telling them: "What a pity. You seem like such nice boys!"
They looked at each other and then ran away. I continued my journey completely untroubled—still feeling God's presence all around me.
When I arrived at the library, the book donation went very smoothly.
I am filled with gratitude whenever I think of this incident. I'm thankful not only for the protection I had when confronted by the threat of violence, but also for the perfect calm I felt. Since that time, I've never been afraid to take the Metro and never stopped feeling safe. The only thing I'm left with from that day is a feeling of peace.
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