With a prayer on my breath, I stepped outside and walked over to the driver's side window, which was closed.  In the shadows, I could not see for sure who the driver was, but watched as he backed his truck into the carport and turned the engine off.  He parked very close to my front door, so I stepped closer, with my back close to the carport wall, to investigate. 

The driver paused inside the truck, and I realized it was the father of the children next door, whom I had met a few days earlier.  He had come by to visit his kids and had a big argument their mother.  He had gotten violent.  We heard crashing and yelling, and the plates on our adjoining wall fell off the display.  I knew he had hurt his children's mother before, and several times had disconnected her phone so she could not call the police.  Soon the ruckus got so out of hand that my wife had me go over to intervene.

I found the man outside, flustered, and getting ready to leave in his car.  The apartment door was closed, and things inside were suspiciously quiet.  When I asked if the children and their mother were alright, the man mouthed off and would not give me a straight answer.  In the argument that ensued, I told him what a piece of crap he was for beating on his lady, and ordered him to never throw her against the wall again.  When he left I thought the domestic quarrel was over.  I hoped that he had learned his lesson.  Little did I know that he held a grudge, and would return to retaliate.

Now, as I looked through his truck window, I noticed one of the biggest knives that I have ever seen, so shiny and new-looking, just laying there on the pickup's front seat.  I thought nothing of it, because it appeared to be a saber, a collector's item.  At this point the driver seemed so calm and peaceful that I expected we would smooth things over.

Then, without warning, it happened.  Snarling, he swung open the door.  A swift, powerful stroke with the truck door pinned me against the carport wall.  I could not move anything except my strong left arm.  Using leverage, the enraged fiend pressed the truck door tightly against my body.  I looked into the slits that were his eyes.  An expression of hate emanated from his very being. 

Reaching behind him, he grabbed the saber and raised it high above his head.  His face contorted into an expression of evil.  With a deft stroke, he plunged the razor-sharp blade towards my heart.  Time stopped.  Things happened in slow motion.  Strange thoughts flew quickly through my mind, as I realized that I might soon be dead. 

My heart missed a beat as I worried about my little daughter.  With only a split second to defend myself, I reached up with my free arm, and with perfect timing, blocked the oncoming knife.  Fortunately only the flat side of the blade struck me.  God guided my arm and gave me strength.  The man was so surprised that he let loose of the truck door, unpinning my body.

Once free, I ran gasping back to our apartment, to where I could hear my little girl crying.  Opening the door, I stretched out my arms and picked her up.  The joy on her innocent face contrasted sharply with the darkness I had fled.  Slamming the door, I wiped away her tears, and mine as well.  Involuntary sobs burst forth out of my soul.  I was so thankful to be alive, and she was so happy to see me.  Tears of frustration and joy rolled down our cheeks.  I was glad the whole ordeal was over, and that I had been given a second chance to live.

Suddenly, the infuriated man appeared again, this time at our front door.  His screams and curses struck our ears.  My daughter shuddered with fear, and I was forced to place her behind me for protection.  With all his might the embittered thug raised the huge weapon above his head and repeatedly stabbed the screen door.  Each brutal blow ripped through the steel mesh with a crushing sound, as he violently sought entry.  We were shaken to the core.  I paced about, trying to figure out what to do.  To my horror, I could not remember if I had locked the door.  I had to trust God to help me make the right decisions.

To make a long story short, I was forced to hold a gun on the deranged intruder until the police arrived.  Hearing sirens, he took off on foot, and after a chase, police caught him hiding at the local Carls Jr. hamburger stand.  Afterwards, a detective informed me that the man is a career criminal.  He was arrested and locked up in prison for murdering another victim.  I am so thankful that God spared our lives.  

Later still, police recovered the deadly saber from where it was hidden at my next door neighbor’s home.  And when a police photographer took a picture of my injury, it showed the tip of the big knife imprinted as a huge red welt across the entire inside of my forearm.