Everyone believed my next-door neighbor, Gill Mason, was harmless, including me. He was creepy and annoying-leaving me odd gifts and notes, knocking on my door at odd hours, and watching me as I left the house-but I never guessed he was dangerous. That all changed on April 1, 2014, the morning when he broke into my bedroom and held me at gunpoint while my six-year-old son slept in the next room. I nearly lost my life that day. I was saved by my own determination and a series of miraculous occurrences-events and circumstances that I came to realize were beyond coincidence. As I struggled to recover from the physical and emotional trauma of the attack, I found that the only way to renew my spirit was to start counting miracles.