I never imagined this would happen.
I was living the plot to one of my novels.
Only this wasn’t just on the written page, it was real.
As real as the bullet in my back that had nearly taken my life.
I wrote Christian mysteries, but I never expected to be my own plot.
Never expected a twisted person would take what came out of my head and onto the page, as a reason to try and kill me.
I never dreamed being an author would land me a trip to the hospital, months of rehab, and a wheelchair.
But it had.
I was living a nightmare, a nightmare I had created in a sense.
Would this monster eventually kill me?
I could only pray God could protect me, because I was not doing a very good job of protecting myself. The chair was proof of that.
I found myself jumping at every sound I heard and with good reason.
You tend to do that, when you nearly get killed by a mad man.
A nameless faceless madman who lurked in the shadows.
Would I ever stop looking in the shadows, fearing the shadows?
Lord help me to stop being so afraid, stop me from fearing the shadows, and keep me safe Lord, because this is not something I can do on my own.