I had decided to draw a bath in order to relax a little because
I think I need to completely abstain from caffeine and sugar.
Anyway, I had started to get comfortable when I heard some loud crashes and rummaging and heavy thundering in the hall. My first thought was, “Oh God, I don’t have any way out and there is nothing in here to defend myself with.” I am freaking at this point, so I get out of the tub, dry off, and proceed to head for the window. The window only goes up so far; and it is not far enough for me to get out of…
Now I am really freaking.
My heart is racing now and suddenly I find myself praying for my survival; I don’t want to kill anyone; but I also don’t want to just watch as someone hacks up my family (or myself). If I could get out I could get help, but since I could not, the only way for me to survive was to make a break for it. So I grabbed what I could get a hold of: a pair of thin scissors and a can of Lysol (improvised mace) and proceeded to run out of the bathroom to my room. All was clear in the hall; it was dark toward the other side of the house. So, I ran into the room and grabbed one of dad’s softball bats and headed for Mom’s room (Dad is at work) ready to find anything at this point. I called out, “Mom, mom!?”
And there she was; safe and sound on the bed looking at me like I had lost my mind. I sank down to my knees and rested my head on the bat; my adrenaline roaring in my ears. I wanted to cry; I still want to cry but as of yet I have not calmed down enough to do it.
Thank God, my mom had just made more noise than usual rummaging through the kitchen; no one was dead and I did not have to hurt anyone.
But now as I sit down and write this; I wonder to myself would I had actually killed someone if they had broken in. Many would see plenty of justification in my action; it would be a simply matter of self defense. But I do not seek to justify myself; because violence, even violence done for a just or heroic cause, is still wrong, especially if someone dies. You can say all you want to say about how we need to defend our loved ones (and there may be some truth to that) but there is a price to be paid when we take someone’s life. Ask a soldier who has come home from war; many of them drink the memories away or get on antidepressants trying not to relive the horror.
There is just something about taking someone’s life that goes against the new age of the kingdom, against the message Jesus proclaimed. I (and even my family) should be willing to die if that means that our killers go on to perhaps here the truth of the Gospel, maybe even from us as we die. We should be praying for them desperately as they kill us; not ourselves for we go to meet the Lord Jesus Christ.
That is it.
We talk about how we must defend the lives of our families; but if we know our families have been at least a chance to repent and trust the Gospel; then we can embrace death because it brings us into the presence of Jesus. Yes, I still want time to let God have more of my life; to experience the fruits of grace through faith first hand. But there is nothing more glorious than what awaits me in the New Jerusalem.
Do I believe that? Does my family believe that? Or are we convinced that we must do whatever it takes to hold onto this life as long as we can?
The world lives to survive; but we are to die to ourselves.
These are my thoughts as I sit here; too nervous and shaken to go to sleep…do with them what you will.
Grace and Peace