We rounded the corner and I pointed to a house just down the street. "A vicious pit bull lives in that house. It's come after Sophie three times."
We walked in tandem, my close friend and I. A missionary on the other side of the world, Angela and her family were stateside, staying in our home for a few weeks as they prepared for their daughter's high school graduation.
I sighed. "Every time we walk by that house, Sophie pulls me to the other side of the street." We looked at my docile Australian Shepherd, who never met a pooch she didn't like. Already she had begun tugging at her leash.
I could see the pit bull's owner working in the yard with his other dog, a friendly mutt, and felt myself relax. At least his vicious dog wouldn't be an issue this evening.
Yet as we grew closer, ferocious barks echoed out of an open window at the front of the house. Soon we heard the pit bull's paws desperately scratching at the window screen. My eyes met Angela's with concern. "Let's speed it up and get past here."
Sophie strained at her leash, and we picked up the pace. The barking became alarmingly aggressive. The dog's owner, sensing trouble, rose from a dirt pile and walked toward the front door. Thank God, I thought, hoping he was going to close the window before the dog burst out.
My heart beat hard as we hurried down the center of the road past the house. I thought we were in the clear, until, a few seconds later--I heard paws galloping on the blacktop behind us. A shiver ran down my back. Turning, I saw the pit bull charging fiercely toward us. Trailing hundreds of yards behind him, his owner screamed the dog's name over and over, to no avail.
A savage animal was seconds away from ripping into one of us, and neither Angela or I had anything that could be used as any sort of weapon. The blacktop road held no stones we could grab; the tree line stood dozens of yards from the street, and there was no time to dash there to try and find a stick, anyway.
That's when I knew I had no choice. Planting my feet in a wide stance, I held my hand in front of me like a traffic cop directing a car to stop and screamed "No!" and then, taking a deep breath, "Jesus!"
I heard Angela screaming "No!" beside me.
The dog kept charging.
I held my ground. "Jesus!" I screamed.
The pit bull roared toward us, lunging into Sophie, who darted behind me. Not satisfied with a mouth full of fur, the growling dog lunged again and again. It rushed around my legs while I stood perfectly still, holding my body tense and whispering Jesus over and over. Oddly, no matter which way the dog moved, it was unable to reach Sophie.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Breathless, the dog's owner caught up to us, bending down and grabbing hold of his dog's collar. "Go home!" he ordered the dog, who, unbelievably, ran full speed back to his house. "Are you alright?" he looked us all up and down.
Fighting back tears, I knelt down to check Sophie, who, though missing clumps of fur, appeared to have no bite wounds. Angela and I, though deeply shaken, were unharmed. God protected us. He protected our dog. Unfathomably, a ferocious pit ball had broken loose and charged us, and the only visible damage was the dog fur scattered on the street.
I will never forget the day that Jesus protected me, my friend, and my dog from an angry pit bull. Not that I'm surprised. After all, God closed the lion's mouths while Daniel camped out in their den all night. But still, when He shows up and prevents imminent bodily harm, well, I can't help but feel flat-out amazed.
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and delivers them out of all their distress and troubles. - Psalms 34:1
How about you? Can you share a time that God intervened and protected you?