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When my husband violently attacked me at 4 a.m. on Christmas Eve 1990 using a newspaper torch, I first thought my life was over. My second thought was my children. I silently prayed to God to protect me and my children. With my upper torso in flames then I saw an angel guide me down the hall to the bathroom where I was able to lock the door, get in the shower, and put out the flames. Through this ordeal and my faith in God I knew God would get me through this emotional and physical trial. With my trust and faith in God, He healed me physically and most importantly because of my faith I was…mehr

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When my husband violently attacked me at 4 a.m. on Christmas Eve 1990 using a newspaper torch, I first thought my life was over. My second thought was my children. I silently prayed to God to protect me and my children. With my upper torso in flames then I saw an angel guide me down the hall to the bathroom where I was able to lock the door, get in the shower, and put out the flames. Through this ordeal and my faith in God I knew God would get me through this emotional and physical trial. With my trust and faith in God, He healed me physically and most importantly because of my faith I was emotionally able to continue to deal with my hurt and my pain. Also, the care of my children. I know God cares for all of us. Vickie Richardson was born and raised in Dry Ridge, Kentucky. She now resides in Cincinnati, Ohio. The incident she writes about led her to a career as a paraprofessional for 29 years in the Northwest Local School District. Since retiring, Vickie decided to tell the world her story. Vickie now enjoys spending time with her family, hiking, and biking.
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