VL - Issue 43- April 22

THE STORY OF DEBBIE SANDERS
we don’t take our pain to the ed time alone to think, so I decided to go
Lord, we can be destroyed. for a drive to clear my head. Before long,
I learned this the hard way I noticed a white truck following closely
through an unexpected and behind me. The driver flashed his lights.
violent attack on my person. I didn’t process
the event well and, over the years, my right, so I decided to turn, hoping the driver
I grew uneasy. Something didn’t feel
mental and physical health suffered. I internalized
stress and eventually developed the turn behind me, and I decided to go to
would continue straight. Instead, he made
viral arthritis and depression. It was to the my friend Sarah’s house, who lived just a
point that I was barely able to get out of bed short distance away. Surely when I pulled
before God intervened and helped me find into her driveway, whoever was behind me
freedom from my self-inflicted prison of would be scared away.
anger, frustration, self-pity, and resentment.
His love led me to a place of peace. light was on. I swung the car into her drive-
I was relieved to see that Sarah’s garage
I had been raised in the church and had way, hopped out, and quickly made my
received Jesus as my Savior when I was way to her front porch. But before I could
11. As an adult, I went to church regularly reach the steps, the man who’d been driving
the truck jumped me and threw me to
and called myself a Christian. But it wasn’t
until these dark times happened that my the ground. The last thing I remember is
need for a personal relationship with the him sitting on top of me and reaching for
Lord came to light and I finally became his belt.
aware that Jesus was my only hope out of “He’s going to rape me,” I thought, and
the darkness.
then everything went black.
Thankfully, my church family and I have no idea how much time passed or
friends were praying for me. Their prayers what happened to me in those moments.
sustained me. I could sense the Lord’s love When I came to, I was sitting in my car,
keeping me close.
alone and confused. I took inventory of
There is so much to this part of my story, my surroundings and saw my purse and
but the details are not relevant here. I was keys sitting on the seat next to me. Nothing
a struggling single mom, facing difficult had been stolen.
challenges. I didn’t think life could get any “Pull yourself together!” I told myself.
worse, but then the unthinkable happened. Then the words, “Get to Pam’s house,”
I was worried for my safety, but I need-
came to mind. Pam was a dear friend who
worked at the hospital. She would know
what to do.
I cranked the car and started driving toward
her home. As I went, I became disoriented
and felt like I was driving in a maze.
“God, help me!” I prayed. It was about
a five-mile drive to Pam’s, a very familiar
route, but I knew if God didn’t intervene, I
wasn’t going to get there.
After I prayed, God Himself or perhaps
an angel must have taken the wheel. In the
blink of an eye, I was at my destination, and
I have no idea how I got there. I believe I
was in and out of consciousness during
that time.
When I pulled into Pam’s driveway, she
was in her front yard talking to Sarah, who
happened to be visiting. Amazingly, Sarah
had been at Pam’s house while I was being
attacked in her front yard.
Pam looked confused as I called out to
her from my rolled-down car window. She
later told me that she had recognized my
car, but not my face.
“Debbie, is that you? Oh my God!” Pam
screamed and ran toward me. Fortunately,
I hadn’t looked in the rearview mirror, so
I had no idea how badly I’d been beaten.
My face was disfigured and covered with
blood. Pam got me out of the car and assessed
the situation. Then she and Sarah
rushed me to the hospital.
Soon, detectives were standing by my
bed, asking questions to which I had no
answers. The hospital staff administered
a rape kit. It returned negative, but my face
was fractured and cut in many places.
Bad news travels fast, especially when
you live in a small town. My church family,
friends, and even strangers who had
heard of the attack began praying for my
physical and emotional healing. God heard
those prayers, and He moved in miraculous
ways.
The first evidence of that was the incredible
speed at which I healed physically. A
mere two weeks after the attack, my face
was completely whole. Not one scar was left
behind from the attack. Also, I suffered no
lingering physical pain or headaches from
the beating. The doctors were amazed, as
were those who came to visit me. Everyone
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