So, I grew up learning to be violent to survive, but I hated the life of fighting and hurting that most of us came to accept as normal. I became more and more miserable, my heart more and more in pain. I turned to alcohol, drugs, and sex to try to feel anything better, and I found pleasure for a season, but that life-killing misery grew ever stronger-until finally, I reached up to the sky, to a God I didn't understand and wasn't even sure existed. He made himself real that day in a mighty way, and I came to understand that the soft and tender heart He'd put in me from the beginning was good-even though everyone around me thought it was weakness. I was sorely tested almost immediately, when three young men known for carrying knives, came up to me on my niece's porch. "God," I whispered, "They mean me great harm, and I could hurt them, but I know You don't want that-so You're going to have to fight for me.". They came up and threatened me, but soon left, confused looks on their faces. God showed me then that I didn't need to fight any more, that He would fight for me in a way I didn't even understand. After He took care of physical battles, I came under what I now knew was spiritual attack, and it terrified me, because I could sense it, but I disnt know what it was. In His infinite tender mercy, He allowed me to leave my people, but also told me I would return to minister to them some time in the future. I believe He knew that I needed a safe environment and loving, godly people to help me learn His Word, so I would be able to overcome the strong holds that the things I used to do had made in my flesh. I spent long hours enjoying His Word, and praying more and more, learning to understand the soft and gentle heart He'd put in me from the day I was born. One night, He turned the light on in my room, early in the morning. I was weeping with the urgency He'd given me to pray for a young woman I barely knew, so I did on my face on the floor, for hours, until the tears stopped, and a sense of being at the feet of some being so holy that I dared not look at Him. "I'm not worthy," I whispered, and suddenly I was back in my room, and the light was off again. I never understood what happened that night, but months later, when I was sharing this with that young woman, I found out. She looked at me in amazement, and said,"I remember that time, I was going to kill myself that morning!". I still don't understand what happened, and maybe I never will, but I know that when God wants me to pray for someone, I do! The one time I didn't, the man-who was lost-died, and I've never forgotten that I should always be obedient to that urgency to pray for someone. The more I learn, the less I understand-when compared to the fullness of all that God is and does, but I am comforted and confident that God knows all, and He'll give me what I need to know. All praises to God our Father, in the precious name of His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.