How many times have you heard, “Ask and it shall be given …?”

For far too many of us they are just words from the Bible we recite mindlessly or that we don’t take seriously. But for the very wise, the phrase is freedom. I’ve read the Bible off and on all of my life, but I never really thought about putting the words into action, putting real, directed faith in the Word of God. I just wasn’t consistent in my beliefs; anything could derail me.

The night I was chased away from the parking lot where I was surrounded by other homeless people by the guy in the big red truck, I was forced to put my life into proper perspective. I could have lost my life that night; I could have been yet another anonymous Black woman found dead somewhere under the night sky.

I realized that just because I was in a bad situation didn’t mean that I had to stay there. God invites us to ask him for what we need or even want. That night, I wanted to be off the street. I broke my own rule of “having to be invited in” and called a friend of mine and asked if I could spend the remainder of the night at her home. Without hesitating she said yes.

That one night turned into three nights and four days, which means a lot when you don’t have a home.

Being homeless helped me regain a sense of who I am as a child of God. I felt myself growing stronger and stronger in the face of adversity, because I knew God had my back. I started getting a feeling that I was going “through the valley of the shadow of death” for a reason. I had a vision of an angel standing by my car on the driver’s side while I slept inside at my storage parking lot just after daybreak. He was tall and slim, but I couldn’t tell his nationality because he was dressed in heavy armor.

I remember his headdress because it was so unique. It had thin flowing red feathers that came down his back. He stood straight and silent, I remember the stillness that surrounded him, and I had the feeling that nothing would get past him.

I was still on the street, but I was getting a first-hand lesson on the power of prayer and how it changes things. I started asking for more work, and I got it. Certain bills had to be paid on time. I prayed and I was able to pay my bills. Mind you, part of my problem was the inconsistent manner in which all of my freelance or contract accounts paid. Sometimes I have to wait weeks for a payment to come through, but through prayer the money would come right on time.

The man in the red truck came after me again about two weeks later. I was fed up with being bullied by an unknown man in a big red truck.

He spotted me at my storage facility and proceeded to follow me. This time I didn’t run. I pulled my car over in the parking lot, turned off my car lights and waited for him to get out of his truck. As always he parked right behind me so I couldn’t back up. So, I grabbed a little knifelike cooking utensil I had in my car for protection. If he had the nerve to approach my car, my plan was to kick my car door open and start slicing and dicing without saying a word. I was ready to kick some butt, but something apparently spooked him. After about 10 minutes, he pulled off. Breathing a sigh of relief, I knew this man would never bother me again. I thanked God for my protection.

Frankly, I didn’t know how I was going to stop living in my car. I wasn’t afraid any more, but I wasn’t foolish either. I felt as though I was in a kind of cocoon, and nothing could hurt me. I wanted desperately to get off the street but illogically I couldn’t articulate that to God. I’d pray to Jesus that He would ask God for me because my prayers seemed so weak and feeble. Then things started changing in a way I couldn’t imagine. I’ll share those changes with you in my next article … But mind you, change didn’t come overnight.