The Speeding Bullet
by Nancy Shore

I am a hopeless romantic.

I love talking about engagements, weddings, and marriage. As a young adult, I had a cake business based out of my home. I even made the groom’s cake for our wedding. The enjoyment of this type of work led me to employment as a wedding/event coordinator for a short season.

Before computers and blogging, we had newspaper columnists and a lady named Ann Landers, who gave all kinds of advice about life, love, and marriage. She wrote a column that ended with a poem that has been used in many marriage ceremonies, including mine in 1983. It reads: “Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing, and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.” That’s the life I had always dreamed of, being married, having a family, and growing old together. FH was the love of my life.

FH and I raised three awesome children, and we were a family that placed God and His Word as a high priority. We attended our church regularly. We both sang in the adult choir, and our children were in children and youth choirs, along with all the other church activities. Each of the kids played a sport, so we spent a lot of family time together.

In decisions on how we would raise our children, we wanted to instill such traits as serving, giving, and loving beyond our family and church. We served on a mission trip to Mexico, and the kids were encouraged to volunteer. When the oldest entered high school, we decided to host an exchange student from Brazil and another one from Germany. It brought a new worldview to us as we welcomed them into our family. It was an exciting season.

Our oldest daughter and son were both in out-of-state colleges, and our youngest daughter was in high school as we began nearing the new season of empty nesting. One night at our church, they spoke about all the mission trips that were planned and encouraged people to stay and see if God might impress upon their hearts to serve. So I decided to listen to information about several of the trips. I went over to the group that talked about serving in Zambia, Africa. I wasn’t going to go. I just wanted to hear about it. What they shared was very interesting, but both the cost and the thought of making a trip of that kind were too much. After all, I had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, an autoimmune disorder that left me with excruciating pain and chronic fatigue. I left the meeting with an unsettled feeling, so I decided I should seriously pray about this ridiculous possibility that God might indeed be calling me to Africa.

At home, I briefly discussed the meeting with my husband and asked him if he had any interest in going, to which he replied no, but he quickly suggested that I approach our youngest daughter about her interest. So after some prayer and finding out more details, I spoke with our daughter, and she promptly said, “Yes, I would love to go.” Apparently, that instilling of serving, giving, and loving had taken deep root in her heart.

The trip required attendance at numerous planning and preparation meetings. The first meeting was another “level of interest” session where we learned more details about the trip. I had been praying fervently about my involvement and kept asking God to let me know if He really wanted me to go. In other words, I still didn’t want to go and was begging for an escape route. Instead, God was clear and showed me that it was my year to go, that I could no longer wrestle with uncertainty.

Each year, this mission organization creates a new theme and focus, with activities and music prepared around that theme. That year’s theme was God’s amazing love and John 3:16. They wanted to focus on how much God the Father and Jesus the Son loved us. In the explanation of the plans, one of the items the children in Zambia would receive was a certificate with their picture taken with us. On the back was “The Father’s Love Letter,” written straight from scripture passages that tell of God’s love, Jesus’ love, and the plan they have in wanting the children to know this love through a personal relationship.

Through this “love letter,” God spoke to me. Ten years before this mission planning meeting, my earthly father had passed away suddenly on Christmas day. It was a shocking and painful experience that shook my faith. I grieved and mourned his loss, trying to understand how a loving God could take my daddy so suddenly, and on Christmas day. In response to this grief, I felt led to write myself a letter straight from scripture. I have carried that letter in my Bible ever since. It was a secret, and I did not share it with anyone for many years, not even my husband or children. So this was a very personal call God was placing on my heart. I finally submitted and found peace about the trip.

During my time of service in Africa, I learned the amazing power of the name of Jesus. In my group of twelve young girls, there were two that I sensed needed to be delivered from demons and curses. Leaders directed them to the prayer room for deliverance. During this intense time of prayer, I didn’t know what to do except call on the name of Jesus, along with the head pastors who knew how to pray, and to ask God to intervene in their lives. I saw God free those children, and the next day, one of them prayed with me to receive Christ as her personal Savior. Our God is a very personal God, not some far away untouchable spirit, and I praise Him for showing Himself to me so vividly. After the week came to an end, my daughter and I boarded a plane to return home, forever changed.

When we arrived at the airport, we joyfully ran to FH, who was waiting to pick us up. On our trek home, I felt something was not right with FH, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

As our younger daughter left for college, FH and I officially entered the season of empty nesters. We were both trying to “find ourselves” as this season moved further along in our lives.

On August 18, 2012, FH was out of town on business for the weekend, and I was preparing to host a women’s tea at our church. I spent time with the Lord reading my Bible and praying for our speaker and that event. I felt led to share a scripture with our speaker and have found it to be a significant life verse: “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you singing” (Zephaniah 3:17). The Tea was a wonderful time of fellowship and encouragement.

That evening, I went back to church to witness the baptism of a longtime family friend. On my way home, I stopped by Taco Bueno to get supper and then proceeded home. I drove into my garage as usual, then got out of my car and took a step toward my house. Suddenly a man had his arm around my neck, with a gun to my head, demanding my purse. I wrestled away from him, turned around, and faced him. He demanded my purse again, and in my flustered state I promptly handed him my Taco Bueno bag. Well that didn’t go over very well, and he demanded my purse a third time, this time with expletives. I was within an arm’s length of him as I stared down the barrel of his gun. I shoved my purse into his chest and cried out, “Jesus save me!” as the robber shot me. I went down, alone in the garage, and bled profusely. My God, who is more powerful than a speeding bullet, spoke to me. “Get up, get up!” With these words, He also gave me the physical strength to pull myself up onto a metal stand. About halfway up, my knees buckled, and I landed facedown on the garage floor. I was unable to pick myself up. So I began to “army man” or belly crawl to my car to push the emergency button to get help. But the button didn’t work. God gave me the strength to push myself up and out of the car. Holding on to my car, I shuffled back through my own blood to make the excruciatingly painful journey into my home. I turned the house alarm off, paused at my bathroom to see my horrifying self, and stumbled to the kitchen counter to dial 911. I described the shooter and gave all the needed information to send help.

The investigation led police to discover that FH, my husband of twenty-nine years and father of our three children, had been involved in a three-year affair. Within a few days, he was sued for misappropriation of funds by his employer. Two weeks after the shooting, FH was arrested for “criminal solicitation to commit murder.” Yes, that’s murder for hire.

After seeing all the evidence from the investigation, I realized that FH was not just having an affair. He was living a double life. My longtime dream of growing old together ended in divorce in June of 2013.

God often uses a song to speak to me and impress upon me something He wants to teach. At my lowest point, God messaged me through a song whose lyrics challenged me, and my conversation with God went something like this: “Really, Lord? You want me to ask you to make me broken, make me lonely, and make me empty? I have nothing. I am nothing. My past, present, and future have all unraveled and are one big loss.” But over the next few weeks I did what He asked. I prayed those things and completely surrendered my shreds to Him.

While my story is one of complete loss, betrayal, grief, fear, depression, and excruciating physical pain, I praise God that He didn’t leave me there to find my own way out. A few months before the trial, God took me through an agonizing journey of facing the horrible emotions I had felt since the shooting. God impressed upon me the need to pour out my anger, rage, bitterness, and feelings of betrayal at His feet. I confessed all of that and was given merciful forgiveness and freedom. This was clearly in preparation for the jury trial ahead. During the two-week jury trial in August 2014, evidence of God’s sovereignty was overwhelming as testimony revealed numerous failed attempts on my life. God was in control and did not allow it to happen until He was ready. “He thwarts the plans of the crafty, so that their hands achieve no success. He catches the wise in their craftiness, and the schemes of the wily are swept away” (Job 5:12–13).

After an hour-and-a-half jury deliberation, my former husband was found guilty of attempted capital murder and sentenced to life in prison. God gave me the peace and strength in open court to publicly forgive him. I must say, other than the gift of my own forgiveness and salvation, there is no greater gift than to forgive someone else. A sure reminder of this is found in Isaiah 42:16: “I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.”

The man who shot me was tried in a two-week jury trial in August 2015. Facing this man in court was overwhelming. The last time I had seen him in person was when I stared down the barrel of his gun. ML was convicted of aggravated robbery and sentenced to sixty years in prison. With previous felony convictions, he could not be eligible for parole for thirty years. In my victim-impact statement, I told him that I forgave him, and I prayed that he would someday come to know the Jesus, whose name he heard me call on the day I was shot.

Many have asked, “Why did you turn off the alarm? Why didn’t you just let it call the police?”

God had a plan.

He showed Himself by giving me the strength and breath to provide the details to the 911 dispatcher, along with the ability to pray and call on God and Jesus to help me and save me.

He showed Himself by leading me to speak on NBC Dateline, where many people would hear that 911 call and be encouraged by the outcome of those prayers.

He showed Himself by giving me the opportunity to honor my 911 dispatcher with an award for “Telecommunicator of the Year” for the State of Texas. I was the first survivor to do this. I also got to pray over 600 first responders and police officers at that award gathering.

The injuries I sustained required a year of brain retraining and physical therapy, as well as numerous surgeries to rebuild my face and eye socket. In the repair process, God provided a world-renowned ocularist to create and paint a beautiful prosthetic eye to match my God-created blue eye. I’m forever grateful that he is such a kind doctor, passionate about helping his patients to feel normal again. God always turns bad things for good for those who are called according to His purpose. During one of my many visits to Dr. T’s office, he sent me out to lunch while I waited for him to work on my prosthetic. Wearing my white eye patch, I stopped at a local restaurant. Business was a bit slow, and my waitress was curious about my eye patch. I told her how God had saved my life during the shooting, but I had lost my left eye. She asked about my faith, which led to a clear presentation of the gospel. This young woman was searching for Christ. Our divine appointment ended with her praying to receive Jesus as her personal Savior. I was overjoyed to be God’s vessel that day.

In my journey with the Lord, I struggled with being convinced of His all-sufficient, never ceasing, never-changing love. As a child, I prayed to receive Jesus as my personal Savior and was baptized. I was one who tried to faithfully follow Jesus, but I waffled with doubts about whether I had truly received Him. I couldn’t remember the prayer I had prayed, and I worried that I didn’t say it right or do everything right. I persistently asked God for assurance. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I finally put all those doubts to rest. Through much seeking and searching, I understood that it wasn’t about what I had said or if I had “done it all right.” It was about God and what He had done by sending His Son Jesus to die on the cross for me. Jesus had done it all right. I was thankful when I accepted that fact. The bottom line is this: there’s no doubt, no sin, no secret, and no pain so deep that God can’t pull us out.

While I believed that He loved me enough to send Jesus to die for me, the concept of the daily personal relationship and the love and care for me each moment of the day was something that I couldn’t grasp. Therefore, any pain or loss in my life was viewed as “I deserved it,” and/or because “He didn’t really love me.” But God’s Word is alive and active, and once again I didn’t have to continue believing the lies. Neither do you. “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10).

Until I became convinced of this kind of love, I struggled with trusting God’s promises, whether His heart was for me. If we cannot believe that God’s love is about shaping us to look more like Jesus, we will struggle when the storms of pain and loss come.

Spending time alone used to be a form of punishment for me. I’m a people person, and I hated being alone. But through various situations, God taught me. I began to understand that being alone, feeling lonely, and solitude were different. Through times of solitude, I learned how to rest in His presence. As I sat and listened to music, read my Bible, and prayed, the Holy Spirit spoke to me and taught me, healed me and comforted me, and refueled me. Surrendering to this form of self-discipline has transformed me. Now, I crave solitude and this special quiet time of focus. It has also prepared me for my new life alone with my little dog. Sometimes I feel lonely, but God is always there, providing His presence and often providing a person who checks on me. I call it “Jesus with skin on.”

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:1, 5, 10).

I’m grateful that God didn’t choose to just save my life, but He has also continued to heal me so I can live and care for myself. Early in my recovery from the shooting, I worried about what the long-term ramifications of my injuries would be. But God. Yes, He’s always there for the pause and consideration of His plan.
As I continued through my surgeries, therapies, and testing, improvement was always evident.

I’m thankful that after many stepping stones of working small jobs, I am now working my first full-time job in twenty-five years. It’s not just any job. After a sixteen-month job search, God opened the door to a secular job with a Christian culture. I go to work every day knowing that I’m allowed to ask for prayer, or I can offer to pray for someone. I can read and talk about scripture. My natural abilities and spiritual gifts are played out daily, and joy and thankfulness are present, even in the rough days.

Last year, I felt led to tell my story in a book titled, The Shooting of Nancy Howard: A Journey Back to Shore, written by Alice Mathews. We both hope it will draw others to Christ.

I hope you can see the many times God has acted on my behalf or has prepared me for the path He has laid.

Since the year of the shooting, I prepare for the year ahead by praying and asking God to show me an area where I need to grow and to give me focus on a specific verse. My 2017 focus words are strength and courage, based on Joshua 1:9: “Haven’t I commanded you? Strength! Courage! Don’t be timid; don’t get discouraged. God, your God, is with you every step you take” (MSG).

Thank you for sharing my spiritual journey. May you find new strength and courage in your life too.

Nancy Shore is the mother of three married children and speaks publicly about her faith in Jesus Christ after surviving an attack at her home in August 2012. She lives in Plano, Texas, and is an active, longtime member of First Baptist Church, Carrollton. Nancy’s story was written by Alice Mathews and published in May 2017. The Shooting of Nancy Howard: A Journey Back to Shore, can be purchased at AliceMathewsNancyShooting.com or on Amazon.com.