The Up-Side of Being Robbed

Our office wall... minus 4 guitars...

After a barrage of standard questions, the kind Officers left our home and we looked at each other incredulously and I thought, "So, what exactly is the up-side to being robbed?"

I thought it was odd that the garage door opener was missing out of my car and I remember Mike taking it the night before, mentioning something about dying batteries. I was actually slightly peeved because I knew I would have to park on our tilted drive, get Sarah's meds, the laptop, my purse, the days receipts and used kleenex out of the car while holding the door open due to the incline. Not only did I have to carry all these items, but I also needed to free Sarah from her car seat and take her in as well.

Now, I know from experience, this isn't a fun thing to do when you have way too much to carry as I've done it several times before, each time with the same result - you drop things, papers blow down the driveway, your child starts to complain, the meds slosh, etc. Not only that, but I was doing all this in the dark, which wouldn't be a problem if you didn't have a fear of bugs and spiders... unfortunately, that's just not me.

Our front door is a place I don't like to be. We don't use it heavily, so there's always spiders or bugs or snails or icky little critters hanging out there. During last fall, there was a huge orb weaver (large web making spider - looks like a tick on steroids) that insisted on making it's web to the right of the door and if you weren't watching where you were going, you'd walk right into it... and into the spider... so with these thoughts in mind, I was grumbling and mumbling as I approached our front door.

I had just enough light from the street lamp to see where to insert the key and as I turned the key, I tried to open the door... but again and again, I couldn't get the thing to budge! I tried at least six or seven times more, each time, pushing hard against the door and still, I couldn't get in. I thought this was odd and it frustrated me even more than I already was and I finally decided that either that door was going to open, or I was going to break it down in the process. And with that, into the door my shoulder went and both me and Sarah went spilling into the house.

As I "walked" through the door, I thought I heard a noise come from the garage - like a door slamming shut, but didn't think anything of it... just thought it was a noise, some sort of inconsequential racket, so I proceeded into the house with Sarah in tow. Right away, I noticed the change jar we keep on the bar was missing... but after searching high and low, I quickly surmised that Mike had taken it with him to cash in. Nothing seemed out of place, so the night proceeded uneventfully. I put Sarah down to sleep, then three hours later Mike came home.

The first thing I asked him when he came through the door was "where did you put the change jar?" "What do you mean? I didn't do anything with it..." "Well, it's not there. Did you move it?" "No, it was there this morning." "Well it's not there now. Are you sure you didn't move it?" "No, I didn't move it. What did you do with it? Are you pulling my leg?" "No, I'm serious, what did you do with it?" And so, we went on like this for a few minutes until finally, the unthinkable became reality to us... we'd been robbed!

Mike quickly ran upstairs, armed himself and started making a sweep of the house to make sure there wasn't anyone hiding anywhere. I started moving through the house, flipping on lights to see if anything else had walked off. First place I went was the office and noticed, all his guitars (save one) was missing from their hangers on the wall. "Your guitars are gone honey..."

After he made a sweep of the house and I had called the police, we just looked at each other in disbelief. So this is what it feels like to have someone come into your home, into your safe haven, into the most intimate of living spaces and rip away what doesn't belong to them. In short - you feel very violated and extremely unnerved. All but one of his guitars had been stolen, including his classical (my wedding present to him, given almost 12 years ago) and his electric (my birthday gift to him almost 4 years ago). Both guitars were extremely sentimental to both of us and to see them missing made our hearts ache. But after a few reflective moments alone, the question again, "So, what exactly is the up-side to being robbed?"

This question would roll around in my brain for the next couple days and I can honestly tell you, my reaction to the people that invaded our home was not one of forgiveness or mercy. To tell you the truth, it wouldn't have phased me a bit to have blown a toe or two off their slick little feet or maybe filled their little fannies with some lead as they ran out the door. No, I wasn't feeling exactly Christ-like at this point... I wanted JUSTICE!

Then I got to thinking - how much Jesus must love me to not have sought justice over mercy and grace for me. How much God must burn and seethe watching His beloved children die at the hands of evil people on a daily basis... and yet He holds His anger back to allow those very murderers time enough to change, so that they too may know His love. Who am I to seek justice for a few guitars and some spare change?

Given, I need to work on the attitude a good bit (given my natural reaction is to shoot off yer dog-gone butt off first, then ask questions later) but it becomes so much easier to do when you look at how Jesus suffered on that cross. I find myself thinking there truly is an up-side to robbery - the blessing comes not from those who did the robbing so much as it comes from Him who forgives our robbing!