I live down a dirt road, not many callers come to my door during the day let alone at night, few cars pass by.
Some years ago, someone came to my door late at night. I was hesitant, somewhat fearful to open my door. I peeked out and saw a young girl in distress. As I opened the door, and looked at her I was sure she was doped up, maybe got into a fight and dropped off. She wanted to come in and use the phone. Something inside me said, “Be calm let her in”. I let the young woman in; she sat down and began telling me her story. She had been out running and fell, hurting her leg. She laid in the ditch almost 2 hours before making her way about a half mile passing the first house because there was no light on. When she got to mine she saw the light and came to my door. I let her use the phone to call her father. She told him what happened trying to explain where she was, she handed me the phone. As I began to explain where I lived, her father said “Billie is that you”? It was Kenny. A family who I had gotten a kitten from that I had known long. His daughter now sat on my couch as she waited for her father. We shared a bit more as we talked. That night God showed me to not be fearful.