No this is not a title to a new bestseller. It is, however, a Lovelock hot topic right now.
Back in the month of April, while I was out on some sort of adventure with the kids, a group of someones decided that it was a good day to break into our home. They broke a pane of glass in the basement door, unlocked all THREE deadbolts and let themselves in. They came upstairs and helped themselves to all our home entertainment equipment (TV, PS3, Wii, Apple TV, all controllers, our old iPhone which the boys played with and more than 20 games). I arrived home, walking in with a few bags of groceries I walked right past the giant hole of missing stuff. Sam calls out, "mom where is the TV?" I promptly responded with, "son, don't be silly, you know where the TV is." He said, "mom I'm not, it's not here." I flew out of the kitchen, panic rising. The door was locked, I unlocked it to get in. Then my mind wondered to the basement door. Fear rising I was afraid they were somewhere in the house. I shooed my chicks outside and called the police.
These someones missed my iPad (charging on the back of the couch), Hubs professional camera and laptop bag (which contained the laptop) and a giant desktop just a few feet away in the office. Whew! But still, I felt so strange and violated. Someones were in my home. Uninvited and stole from us. The kids were terrified that they were coming back with guns. I consoled them, telling them they wouldn't come back. They don't come back to the scene of the crime. Hubs boarded up all the windows in the basement door so that this would prevent them trying again.
That night I couldn't sleep. Every sound sounded bad. My mind raced to unhealthy thoughts of all the terrible things that could happen. Finally in the midst of one of my mind ramblings I heard a quiet, yet firm audible voice speak to me and say, "Be still. . . know that I AM GOD." I was like, wow. God spoke to my mind and within minutes I was asleep and slept all night. See, God showed me that they can't steal what is important. They can't steal my peace, because my peace comes from Him.
Weeks went by and I had stopped looking in the front door window while unlocking the door to see if everything was intact. It wasn't a fear thing, it was a is-my-stuff-still-here-thing.
Until last week.
The kids and I had been out running errands. I had a bag of groceries (seems like I am always needing something), we came in, TV still there so I went on through. Daniel calls out, "mama, where's our PS3?" Out loud I started saying, "no, no, no, no, couldn't be, no." I try not to babble like an idiot but sometimes it just happens. It was gone. Controllers too. I went to the kitchen, door leading to the basement was open (I don't leave it open). I sat down. The kids were in tears. I couldn't believe it. I thought maybe we hadn't locked the door or something and then I thought of the basement door. Knowing no one was still here, I sent Makiah downstairs to look at the door while I looked to see if anything else was gone. I was sick, just sick. She screamed, scared me to death and came back upstairs and told me the door was broken in half. They had kicked the doorknob until it splintered, knocked in the bottom half of the door and came on in. As if they were invited.
Police came. Another police report. It was determined that I must have interrupted them because the TV and Wii were unplugged and moved slightly but still there. I was in front of my house, with my chicks, while thieves were running out my back door. Nausea. I was absolutely sick. Not about the PS3, which was bad mind you, but by the fact that they came back. I knew the first time that they had to have been watching the house to know when we were all gone or if Hubs had the van and we were home. Watched, we were still being watched. How else would they know that no one was home, you can't judge that just based on van or no van. And they waited long enough for our insurance to come through and we had replaced our things to come back and take it all again (police said this is common).
Now I am trying to explain to my kids that I was wrong, that I didn't think would come back. Now every time someone they don't know walks by our home or they are near our yard they think robbers are coming. They ask if they will bring guns. They ask what would happen if we were home because daddy took the van that day. They ask why God didn't protect our home. I gently remind them that God protected the really important things. . . them and mommy and daddy. We pray for peace. We read scriptures about peace. We sing about peace.
And every night I am reminded of that first night. He is God. The protector and peace giver. . . THAT cannot be stolen.
*No, we don't live in a bad neighborhood. And in 11 years of living in this big ol' city we live in this is the first (and second) time we have ever had our home broken into.