My words as testimony from my website http://praise-GOD.info, page three on Prose: Praise GOD anyway! * Home * Lessons of Poverty * Prose * More Scriptures I'm Telling Someone by gloriapoole ®©. "I was a throw-away woman, but for the grace of GOD. The children of darkness are wiser than the children of the light, so says The Bible, in the ways of evil. The children of the light must first endure the hatred of evil, the attacks of the devil, intended to destroy; then come to terms in their souls first, with the grief, and pain, and anguish; that splinters their minds, and souls, and bodies. When the onslaught of the powers of darkness, like a steam roller over their lives, crushing bones, obliterating minds, and futures. Or trying too. Attacks on The Spirit of life itself; producing shock, unbelief, disorientation, disordered, chaotic, mind-splintering, suffering. That crashing down, down, down, with the force of trauma, applied to every fiber, every nerve, every cell, bone crunching, displacing, into pieces, the joints, and stretching the ligaments, and tendons, into disabling injury. Of Body. And Soul. And Mind. Distorting the thoughts, and memory, of all that like the fairy-tale of innocent childhood, evaporated, vanished, like a puff of smoke from a diesel, in the winds of cyclone. The bones shatter, the mind separates itself from the pain, of being hated. of feeling the bits of bone, like shards of glass embedded in the tender flesh. And bone pain of fractured strength, fractured hardness and intactness, into pieces of bone, scattered; and tendons and ligaments, stretched beyond normal capacity, rendering an upright walkabout woman, into a crawling, child-like waif, abandoned, in hopes the neglect will cause the final death; of the one so hated. Because I said, 'I've never suffered an injury, because GOD watched over me." provoking, the power of evil, and darkness, to wipe out forever my Praise of GOD. Or try too. BUT for the grace of GOD. I survived. The insidious tearing down of my self-respect, the hatred, the contempt, of a man, who took vows to love me and cherish me, then tried to destroy me. A man who said, he hated me so much that I could not even imagine it. That was then. Now I imagine it nightly. A man who said, in word and deed, that all he cared about was money. And who said, he "didn't want wimmen" after having married one. I survived. his hatred. his physical attacks, his contempt, his effort to obliterate me. I survived; his attempts to destroy me, steal my very name, and consume my identity. I survived. By the grace of GOD. WHO gave me, supernatural strength, to drag myself, fractured bones and all; with reeling mind, wandering consciousness, up a flight of stairs, pushing with the strong leg, bumping up the steps, one by agonizing one. Until I reached my apartment, and sat on the floor, fumbling for the key, and unlocked the door, and crawled in, on all fours, like a infant, and pulled myself to the sofa, and called on phone for help. But then in came the evil again, the face of the devil, reappeared , in my face, snatching away the phone, suddenly. "Don't tell anyone, or I'll kill you," he growled at me. He grabbed my broken leg, swollen, tender, discoloring, and twisted it like twisting the lid on a jar, like trying to separate my foot from my leg; I screamed! "Don't tell anyone, or I'll kill you, " he said, as he hung up the phone. I understood the message. My mind was reeling, my ankle was throbbing, my heart was breaking, and my life was ending. Or so it seemed. But the grace of GOD, saved me. Hysterical sobbing, unable to stand, writhing in pain, moaning, sick to my stomach, but I understood, that my life depended upon play-acting a calculated calm. Through the night, the demon stayed. Sleeping on the edge of the marital bed with me, so I could not leave, guarding the phone, so I could not call anyone. Telling me, 'don't tell anyone, or I'll kill you." The last words he spoke to me, alone in our dwelling. Before leaving the next morning, when he was fooled into thinking I had given up on life. No comfort, no relief from pain, no hugs or kisses, no soothing words of reassurance. "Don't tell anyone" with a clenched jaw, and hands formed into fists. "Don't tell anyone, or I'll kill you." he growled at me like the demon he is, repeating his oft message to me said many times before, "Don't tell " the Judge if he asks you what happened; "don't tell the doctor" "don't tell the surgeon" don't tell the Church; don't tell, don't tell, don't tell, DON'T TELL. But I'm Telling. with this because the words haunt me still. The night is dreadful sometimes, when I think I hear him in the hallway, and the fear comes over me like a fog descended on my brain, and the sick feeling wells up in my stomach, and my throat gets dry, and I lay very still, and listen to see. If it is real, is he there? or did I have a nightmare? Those words of a wicked man, who was my husband then, but not now, and thank GOD! GOD in HIS mercy, saved me. and took the very trauma, and turned it against the evil, so the devil fled that morning, leaving me to die, he thought. too injured to stand up, or walk; too disoriented to think clearly, what to do? and how? great, engulfing tears, like the waters of the Tennessee Valley turned loose; suddenly, flooding my mind, water-logging my brain, waves of nausea, heaving, gagging, producing nothing, but more hurt; stomach too empty, nerves too damaged, mind gone; it seems. BUT for the grace of GOD I'd be dead. BUT for the grace of GOD, my mind would be in a never land where life is pleasant and there is no suffering. BUT for the grace of GOD, my foot would have been separated from my body. BUT for the grace of GOD, my skull would have been fractured. BUT for the grace of GOD, I would have been among the dead, and not the living. The devil tried to destroy me, but he failed. BECAUSE GOD PREVAILED. And the power of GOD defeats the devil, every time. I am alive. And I walk, though wobbly, unsteady, with a limp, that gets worst from a walkabout, that would have been no exertion at all, before. Before looking into the face of evil, and hearing the words, "Don't tell or I'll Kill you." And enduring the calamitous crash down the stairs, and the deliberate effort, to break off my foot, from my leg; after it was fractured; and the pain was agonizing, to make sure I understood, what he meant. "Don't tell or I'll kill you." Before my path crossed the devil, in the stairwell, of what was my home; I considered myself a sane woman. With her head on straight, and a future. The shame of it all, realizing finally, with absoluteness, how many events of evil, had happened; that preceded that crash. His effort to shove me out the upstairs window, and choke me, and poison me with pesticide, and crash my bike, and crash down stairs before with my foot caught in his jacket he threw there; and kidnap me, in the parking lot of the so-called "justice" building after I testified to tell, only a tiny bit of what happened, before: the more mild events, of abuse, neglect, abandonment; threats, terror, panic. disposal of my assets, even my shoes; theft of my mail, and identity. "I'll cut your throat-- get in the car", he said, but I ran, and ran, and ran for my life. But evil caught up, and grabbed me; BUT GOD intervened, and sent a deputy, who saw, and became a shield for me; against evil, and handcuffed the devil. A deputy who was alert, recognized the threat, and saved me. A real hero. who handcuffed the devil! And took him away. Did I say thank you? I don't think so. I think I was nearly incoherent, babbling, crying, sobbing, terrified. The devil is gone from my life, and now I thank GOD. I praise GOD because I am alive, and my mind, is slowly returning to me." This site owned by and created by Ms Gloria Poole, 'gloriapoole', Denver Co 80203 8:31 AM 6/17/2008