Bang! The door burst open from the power of a swift kick. And then they came in, one after another piling into our home.
Five men.
Five shotguns.
Pointing at me.
I screamed. Blood-curdling fear. Mind racing. Not believing that five men with shotguns are in my home.
Surely I must be dreaming.
But I was not.
The lead intruder cut me off with a barking demand: "Give me your computer!"
It was the middle of the night, 1:30 in morning. Five minutes before, I had sat down with My Love's laptop; I had spent two hours before that rocking and singing to a fussy-teething Constance and I was restless. After laying her finally asleep body down, I took my very awake self into the living room to check emails.
The intruder only had to say it once. "Take it!" I said, handing over the laptop to one of the other four thieves and releasing it as soon as I felt its weight lessen. His hands inches from mine. My Love had an almost-completed book on that computer and it was not backed up. Months of work. Gone.
My Love stumbled out of our bedroom onto the scene, jolted awake from a dead sleep. Realizing what was happening, he peeked his head into the room where our three oldest were. "Be quiet and stay put," he said, and shutting the door behind him, he walked out into the living room. Took my place in front of the five gun barrels.
He took my place.
"Give me money!" The lead intruder barked again My Love calmly began walking toward his wallet, taking the focus off me. "It's cool, guys," he said. "It's cool. Let me get my money."
Charlotte walked out, stumbling, sleepy. I crouched and walked to her, guns inches from me. I whisked her into our bedroom where Constance was now hysterical. Shutting the door was so hard. My heart was being ripped out of my chest with the thought of never seeing My Love again. That they would surely take his life.
Lifting Constance in my arms and searching for the cell phone, I cried out. "In Jesus' name. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus!"
It was all I could muster. Just His name.
Then it was over.
My Love ran into the room. "They're gone! Where's the phone?" He found my cell phone and called 911.
Within minutes the police arrived. Six cars. Dogs picking up the scent from the muddied footstep in my living room.
It. Feels. Like. A dream. So unbelievable.
I close my eyes and see it again and again. Like a dark cloud, a rabid dog lunging to attack.
Unreal.
We thank God today that we are alive. We thank God that the next day, over thirty of His people flooded our home and packed it all in four hours so we never have to sleep there again. The body of Christ at work. Healing. Beautiful.
There is a long road of healing ahead. Fear barks angrily in our ears, our hearts. We would appreciate prayers today and in the coming months for the Father's grace to process it all. Please pray for Emma and Dorothy, who heard most of it cuddled together in their room. And for dear Charlotte who saw the intruders. The guns. For Adam and me to walk wisely as we take the next steps for our family--our things are packed but we do not have a home. We long for a home.
Lastly, please pray for the five gunmen, running from a Father who loves them dearly. who sent His only Son to free them from the darkness that ensnares. We pray that they be chased down buy his unfailing, merciful love.
His love never fails.
