(February 8, 2016 at 1:32 am)scoobysnack Wrote:(February 8, 2016 at 1:22 am)Rhythm Wrote: Would god violate a rapists free will if he waited until the rapist had made the decision to rape, stepping in after that moment but before the rape occurs to protect the victim? Nope. No more than a cop who sees an assault-in-progress and prevents it before serious harm is done has somehow violated the free will of the perpetrator.
These free wills excuses are just horrid.
All I can provide is a story my aunt told me. After a high school dance her date took her out behind the school. After a while he pushed her to the ground and tried to rape her. She resisted, but being a very petite female didn't stand much chance. She started praying to Jesus. Suddenly her date looked up and behind her with a startled face, and ran away. She had no idea why, but the next day talked with him who told her a very tall man glowing in light was standing behind her and scared him away.
This is a true story, and I have others. All it takes is a faith in God. I would recommend Jesus since there are many other stories I can share. All you have to do is invite Jesus into your heart, and ask for forgiveness. Jesus will save you. God is real.
Even if her prayer was answered how do you prove it was Jesus? Because ghats the one she prayed too? Never mind this is a commonly circulated story with massive holes. Like talking to her raoist the next day? Come on. You can't believe everything people tell you, especially when their religion is involved.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
