Home invasion

 We had a very quiet Labor day until about 8:30 pm.  I was relaxing with my cup of decaf in the TV room at the back of our house, all of our “peeps” were tucked in for the night and my husband, Denny was taking a shower. All of a sudden,  I heard a man talking right  in back of me , I turned around to see a drunken stranger standing behind my chair and realized we were the victims of a home invasion!!

 Swaying in the doorway was a dirty little man, wearing only shorts and a long grey beard.  I stood up, talking to this guy in my calmest voice, as if he were a welcome guest.  On the outside I was acting natural; inside, my brain was screaming– “GET HIM OUT & GET DENNY!”

I walked and talked him out of the TV room, stuck my head in the bathroom and said to Denny, “Get out here NOW!”  My voice was quiet and steady, and Denny looked puzzled, but when I repeated those words with emphasis and he saw my face contorted into she-bear intensity, he realized we had a serious problem.   Meanwhile, the “visitor” was right behind me.  As Denny threw on some pants, I invited the invader down the hall, through the kitchen , around the butcher block full of knives (which we both glanced at),  and into the living room…all the while my mouth was rambling on like a tour guide.  We were near the front door when Denny took over.  The man was bobbing and weaving and talking gibberish, and I was wearing my best “Barbara Walters” face, trying to find out why, how, and who this man was in our house.  Denny helped him out the door, saying he would try to get him home. That’s when we realized, the man had parked in our front yard…no...literally, on the front yard… missing the mailbox by inches.

 I called our son-in-law Steve from next door to help us.  Before he got there I could hear the man crying to Denny and talking about God …as only a drunk can discuss theology.  Denny finally got the man into his car, drove him safely home, with Steve following in our truck.

Now, as I look back over last night, I thank God for the best outcome, but wonder, “How did I stay so calm?”  A delirious drunk, who looked like the gator/turtle hunters on television, walked in on me, at night, making a few lewd and crude remarks, reeking of alcohol and neither Denny nor I were rattled.

It could be because we both have experience dealing with drunks.  It could be because it all happened and resolved so quickly.  It could be because we have faced many crises’.  However, I’m convinced the answer is because of this promise:

 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phiippians 4:7)

Last night I prayed a prayer of thanks for our Fathers ongoing protection.  I included the man who so desperately needs Christ, and remembered to lock the door.