Jesus Confounded My Attacker: How God Protected Me at 15
I don’t think I’ve ever written out this testimony fully before, but when I was a high school student, around 15 years old, Jesus saved me from a sexual assault. It’s one of those moments where I know without a doubt that God protected me. One day, I was riding the bus home from school and got off a block or two from where I lived at the time. I enjoyed riding the bus with my CD player and headphones to filter out the various sounds. The bus was known for its diverse and sometimes loud passengers. To make my daily commute, which was over an hour each way, more bearable, I would listen to gospel music.
As I got off at my stop and headed toward my house, I noticed a young man at the bus stop who began walking in the same direction as me. Even though I had headphones on, I was aware that he was getting closer. At the time, he was still some distance away. It was broad daylight.
As I got closer to my house, which was about half a block away, he approached me and asked a question. I believe it was something like whether I knew where someone lived, though I can’t remember exactly what he said. I kept walking briskly and replied that I didn’t know.
Then, all of a sudden, he ran up to me with his hand in the pocket of his hoodie, holding something inside. He told me he had a gun and that I needed to do what he said.
He walked closely beside me, and since I believed he had a gun, I did what he said. He directed me to walk to the corner and then behind someone’s house, down a driveway. It was one of those homes with a garage in the back instead of a backyard, with fences on both sides and only one way in or out, which he stood in front of, blocking my exit.
It was semi-private. The only way someone might have seen us was if they lived in that house and happened to be home, or if someone happened to walk or drive past the driveway.
He stood there in the entryway of the backyard/garage area, completely blocking the way out. As you can imagine, I was terrified. At first, I thought he was trying to rob me. I began praying silently in my head, calling on the name of Jesus.
The first thing I said once we were behind the house was, “What do you want? I have a CD player, two dollars, and this cell phone.” He shook his head no. I asked again, “What do you want?”
He replied, “Two minutes of s**.”
I was stunned. Never in a million years would I have imagined those words coming out of his mouth. I never thought I’d find myself in a situation like that. Growing up in Philly, I had always assumed that if something like this happened, it would be a robbery—but this was something completely different.
I told that man no.
He looked completely stunned when I said it. He started yelling, his hand still in his pocket. I remembered a news report I had seen a few years earlier that said men who sexually assault women often do it to feel powerful or something along those lines. So the entire time, I tried to remain calm and didn’t shed a single tear, by the grace of God. I was doing my best to act like I wasn’t afraid of him.
By that point, I realized there was no way he actually had a gun in his pocket. He did, however, have a screwdriver in his pocket, a weapon, which I caught a glimpse of as he started to walk towards me.
Before I knew it, he was right up to me, aggressively grabbing at my clothes. He tried to force himself on me. I fought him off and pushed him away. He threatened to kill me. I told him to do what he had to do, because I was not going to do what he wanted.
Again, he looked completely stunned.
Then I started praying out loud. I prayed for what felt like several minutes, asking God to save him, to forgive him, and to rescue him. He couldn’t believe it. He asked me what I was doing. He stood there, constantly on edge and scanning his surroundings, yet still hearing me pray for him. He halted there and didn’t try to touch or grab me again, instead, he looked confused and almost stuck.
I kept praying aloud, and eventually, he said I was crazy and told me I could go. I find it interesting that he called me crazy when he was the one doing something so horrible. But I know it was no one but God who made him freeze like that.
When he told me to go, I responded, “No, you go first.”
And he did. He ran off, leaving me there alone.
I waited for what felt like five to ten minutes before moving. My main concern was that he might try to follow me home, because all of this happened just a few houses away.
When I finally walked to my front door, I knocked, and my uncle answered. As soon as he opened the door, I broke down, crying hysterically. All of the emotion I had held in during the attack finally came pouring out.
I told my family what had happened, and they called the police. I was taken to the police station, where they handed me a book of offender photos. It just so happened that his photo was in the book, and I was able to identify him. They arrested him that same night.
Come to find out, he had assaulted multiple children recently, and he was the man the police had been actively trying to find, whom I heard about on the news.
I was 15 years old when this happened. The case didn’t go to trial until I was 18, during my freshman year of college. I had to testify against him in court. I remember meeting some of his other victims during the trial. They were all young, and I was one of the oldest. He had assaulted all of them.
At the trial, the judge asked me why I believed he didn’t successfully go through with it on me. I gave glory to Jesus.
Then the lawyer representing the victims, I suppose trying to clarify my answer, as if Jesus wasn’t acceptable, said something like, “I’ve gotten to know Donielle in the lead-up to this trial, and she’s one tough cookie.”
Still, I know without a doubt that it was Jesus who confounded that man and caused him to let me go. He was convicted and sentenced to many years in prison.
I had the opportunity to share my testimony at church one Sunday morning. My high school newspaper also interviewed me for an article they were working on about the dangers of walking around distracted by headphones, phone calls, and other devices.
It’s because of this experience, and the many other things the Lord has brought me through, that I’ve come to see Jesus not as the God who prevents all bad things from happening, but as the God who is with me through both the good and the bad. He is the God who never leaves me, even when people use their free will to cause harm. I am forever grateful for this deeper revelation of who my Savior truly is.
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