Proof The Bible Is True

“Help! Please, somebody, help!” I looked out the window at the orchard, dark and shadowy in the pale moonlight. It was a woman’s voice. Close. But where? My son was at a friend’s house. It couldn’t be him watching a scary show on TV.

 

I lived in Milton-Freewater, Oregon, at the time, renting a garage apartment set back from our landlord’s house. The orchard and a small creek were behind us, not much else. Maybe someone fell in the water. Or was lost.

 

“Somebody, please, help me!” There it was again! A woman, desperate and very near. I grabbed the phone and called the police. “I think a woman is being attacked,” I told the dispatcher. I gave my address. “Please hurry!”

 

Read More: Mysterious Ways: A Cry for Help