About thirty plus years ago, I was in my clinical rotations for physical therapy school, and during one of them, I stayed with my aunt and uncle in Birmingham, Alabama. They had a large basement complete with a bedroom, living room, and full bathroom, which became my apartment for several weeks. It was an excellent arrangement to allow me to save money and enjoy some time with my family there as well.
Around the middle of my time there, my aunt and uncle had a trip for the weekend, meaning I would be alone in the house for a few days. I came home that Friday and made dinner in their kitchen, cleaned up the dishes, and then went to my basement room to workout and to take a shower. I was home alone about two plus hours when I settled into a chair to read some articles for the following week. After sitting for about half an hour, I heard a strange noise above me. It sounded like someone walking around upstairs. My mind ran through several scenarios—all of which sent chills up my spine. For several minutes I froze in place, listening for any more sounds, but the footsteps had stopped. A wave of realization lapped at my subconscious, and a smile spread across my face.
The cat! Of course, it’s the cat!
I was so relieved that I let out a sigh mixed with a laugh. The noise was met with a sudden scurrying sound both upstairs and beside me on the couch, where the cat jumped up from a deep sleep behind my head, where she had been sleeping. Now, fear gripped me from all sides as I realized that the cat had been down here the entire time and whoever was upstairs was still there and knew that I was here alone.
There were no cell phones then, but fortunately, the home phone for this house had an extension in the basement. The phone was perched on a table across the room from where I sat and within direct view of the steps leading down to me. Whoever was up there would be able to see me in the front door reflection if I moved that direction. I was trapped where I was sitting unless I could get to that phone and call the police. Slowly, I crept out of my chair and moved toward the phone, hoping whoever was up there was just as scared as me—but I knew that this idea was unlikely. A criminal bold enough to break into this house was probably just as bold with their ideas of what they planned to do here.
I prayed hard as I moved across the floor, grabbing the only thing nearby to use for a weapon: a book that was laying nearby. I didn’t look to see what it was, but I knew that this would at least give me something to throw if I tried to run past to the door. Getting to that phone was a priority, and I focused on this with my eyes glued to the staircase. As I reached the table with the phone, I was praying so hard that my lips moved. Slowly, I reached up with shaking hands and grabbed the phone, but as I did, an idea came to me. I don’t have any idea why I did this, but I shouted,
“I’m calling the police!” I yelled. “You’re going to jail!”
I don’t know why I did that, but it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. As I finished my statement, I heard a scramble and someone running. Within seconds, I heard the back door open and someone moving down the deck stairs, knocking over things as he fled. Within minutes, the police arrived and looked around. After the entire incident was reviewed and investigated, they found evidence that a neighbor, who had a record as a Peeping Tom, had thought my family was gone, broken into the house to go through some personal items, and I surprised him when I arrived home, essentially trapping him inside. He thought I had gone to sleep when I was quietly reading downstairs and was trying to sneak out to go home when I startled him and he ran. The police said that I was extremely lucky, but I knew I had been protected that night. When I stopped shaking and the police left me for the night, I was still gripping the book close to my chest. It was the Bible.
The man that broke into the house was arrested and thank goodness I’m here to tell the story. That fear, though, was something unlike I had ever experienced in my life. It is the only way that I can identify with Daniel as he was thrown into the lion’s den. Most of us know the story of Daniel denying the king’s law and continuing to worship God. As a punishment, the king threw Daniel into the lion’s den, where he should have been torn apart instantly, but instead, the lions’ mouths were sealed. But lions have more than their mouths, they have powerful bodies and long sharp claws, yet these lions did not attack in any way. I think that it’s interesting that God didn’t stop anything but the lions. He allowed Daniel to be arrested and convicted and then thrown into the den. Daniel was put in the worst possible situation and it was only then that God decided to intervene. I know that my situation was entirely different inside that house with a criminal upstairs, but I felt alone, vulnerable, and terrified. I don’t know what went through Daniel’s mind that day, but I do know that he had to go through that lion’s den to see God’s power. My mind was filled with horrible thoughts that night as I crouched in the basement clutching the phone, but thankfully, I’m here today to tell the story. I believe that my prayers were heard and answered and that the protection that I sought by grabbing a book was symbolic that the Bible is a part of that protection. It is where we go to read about God’s love and protection and His amazing miracles through stories like Daniel and the lion’s den. We will all experience things that bring fear and maybe even danger and sometimes it may feel like a group of hungry lions are upon us, but I can tell you that He is there in your fear and uncertainty just like He is there every day through all circumstances. Trust Him. He will deliver you.