I have been circling my computer for several days now, like a shark circling prey in the water.  However, I have been too afraid-yes, AFRAID-to write to my brothers and sisters in Christ, those who are most able to ease my agony.  Yes, Satan plans his attacks well.
  I am a regular, normal person....a mom, a sister, a wife, a friend.  My family is normal (well, maybe slightly off-center, but let's not quibble!  LOL) We go everywhere and do everything together, including pray.  We all love the Lord and know Him intimately.  My husband and I are both retired NYC Police officers, and still in enough physical shape to give a bad guy pause.
  Each summer, we go away in our motor home....however, not like most people.  You see, we are both Harley-riders, with one girl on the back of each bike (15 yrs. and 9 yrs.-the girls, not the bikes.)  After many different unsatisfactory experiences with poorly-built motorhomes, we had one built for us.  It looks like an 18-wheeler, but purple and with flames on the sides.  We put our bikes in a garage built into the back.
  If you are an RV'er, you know that occasionally, between campsites and places to visit, you have to spend a night at a roadside reststop or a Walmart parking-lot.  This is not due to being cheap; not all campgrounds can accomadate our size rv (47 feet), and sometimes we are just too exhausted to go any further.  Thus, we catch a few winks 'till the sun comes up and get going again.  After several close encounters at night with suicidal deer, free-range cattle, and 180' country-road curves, you learn your lesson.
  This particular afternoon, I was having real trouble. I had mis-counted my blood-pressure meds and brought too few, and the headaches had begun in earnest three days prior.  We spotted a walmart about 5 pm, and I went in to see about having my florida prescription transferred to Utah so they could fill it there.  They were PACKED, but said they could do it if I could wait, so to be on the safe side (we didn't want to block any delivery trucks), we pulled around back by their loading docks, as far from the building as possible.  RVers know they are welcome to spend the night at Walmart in most towns, as long as it doesn't violate any ordinances, because most of the time, we do all our shopping there, refill camping supplies, and generally drop a small fortune.  This night was no exception.
  We ate at a local place, and took a long walk with our girls, enjoying the sights and stretching our legs.  It took several hours for them to fill the script, so it was dark by the time I had them.  My little one talked us into a "movie-nite", and pestered us into our showers so it could start (Brother's Grimm).  My husband was last, and I was already in my jammies when the banging started.  As it is a regular thing in different walmarts or stops for security or management to keep rvs in a particular area, I made the ASSUMPTION it was a manager or security knocking.  I called out to my husband that I was indecent (jammies, remember), so he began putting his clothes back on to answer.
  The banging on the side got MUCH louder.
  To answer the door in this rv, you have to reach down about two steps, and just open it.  The windows are frosted (for our PROTECTION, I guess!).  Anyway, he unlocked the handle (my hands are shaking now, sorry about the typing) and the door was YANKED open.  A LARGE man (about 6', and about 240-260 PURE muscle....found out later he was a competetive body-builder) barreled up the stairs.  My husband is a very strong man, I am 5'9" solid muscle, and we looked like kids compared to him.  My girls, on the couch right in fromt of him, screamed.  My husband ordered him out, and this guy screamed at us "start it up-you're driving me south".  After that, everything was so fast (Lord, please don't let me cry again-this has to come out-someone has to know!)  This guy back-hands my husband, the girls shreik, I try to shove him out the door, he punches me in the stomach, and as I go down, hits me in the face.  I collapse.  My husband runs to the back where we keep the shotgun by the bed, and racks one in the chamber.  In a normal person, it would end there.  This guy starts to laugh, and yells, 'wanna rock, big boy?"  At that point, my husband realizes I am directly behind this man, the girls about a foot to the left.  He turns his back on the guy to put the safety on unlit I can drag the girls down and get on top of them.  He's yelling "get down" to me.  This man grabs my husband around the throat in the crook of his arm and starts squeezing.  I can hear his gasps-he is athsmatic (my husband), and panic is starting it.  I jump on this guys back, and the man pistons this enormous elbow into my face. All I can see are stars...but I can hear the girl's panic-screams for help.  I am on my hands and knees in front of the door.  I start pushing at the back of HIS legs, trying to force him out the door.  He has braced himself, and is turning back in.  That is when my husband shoots him. (Yes, the man is VERY dead.  And Yes, it was legal.)
  The rest is slow motion.  Me throwing towels over my girl's heads so they couldn't see any more.  My husband trying to get enough air to dial 9-11.  My whole face throbbing like a drum.
  The police treated us with such respect, and Walmart was so gracious and kind to us.  In my dreams, though, I keep seeing it over and over again, only this time we lose.  The thing is, after he uses the gun on us (in the dreams), he is left with just his knives.  I picture what he does to my girls with them.  The nightmares are awful.  I can't praise, or pray, or hear God's voice....I feel under attack.  HELP!!!   Yes, this is REAL-I have the news articles to prove it).  Can someone tell me how to ward off spiritual attack?  I am a LOUD christian....I fell as if I am being forcibly stopped.  Tracy Dee