I’m joining Rachel and Mr. Daddy today over at Once Upon a Miracle for True Story Tuesday…pop on over and read some awesome true stories.
This true story happened to me about five or so years ago…
Sleep eluded me. I was exhausted, but as tired as I was, I could not fall asleep. One o’clock passed, then two o’clock, then three a.m., nothing. Firehubby was at the station so I went ahead and turned on the light and began to read. At about three forty five, I could hear a car driving through the neighborhood, it sounded like it was a few street over. Being that I was upstairs, I enjoyed having the window open, I could hear the car very clearly. I heard honking of a horn in the distance and then some squealing tires. What the heck was going on, it was the middle of the night.
Within a few minutes, my doorbell began to ring. Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong. Pound, pound, pound, pound. I nearly jumped out of my skin! Without hesitation, I picked up the phone and dialed 911 and then ran to the kids rooms. I scooped up Scout, ran to Princess’ room and then placed him on her bed. Her room was toward the front of the house and had a view of the street.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator asked.
“Someone is ringing my doorbell and pounding hard on my door!” I replied breathlessly.
“Can you see who it is?”
At this point the pounding began to sound much louder, like they were trying to break down my door.
Opening one slat of the mini blinds, I saw a full size, extended cab pickup out front and could make out at least four guys running around my front yard. I described what I could see to the operator.
Then suddenly, one of the guys looks up at me, he could see me through the single open blind, peering out, even though the lights in the room were off. He pointed up at me, then another guy looked up at me and threw something towards my upstairs vantage point and it hit the window. I don’t know how the window did not shatter, but I was not going to wait around for the next projectile.
Now, fighting hysteria, I gather my kids and ran with them to my room. The bashing at the front door continued as I closed and locked the door behind me and head to the master bathroom. Slamming the door, I quickly lock it. The operator continued on the line as I explained what was happening.
“Mam, we have officers on the way. Be calm,” the operator said, hearing my anxiety heightening.
Holding the children on each knee, I prayed out loud.
“Dear Lord, please help me, please help me,” I pleaded.
“Mam, you need to stay calm for your children,” she said with a scolding tone.
Oh my gosh, I was doing my best! Can you really blame me for getting anxious?
Within five minutes, the operator told me that the police were in front of my house.
Then a few minutes later she told me that they were at my door. I went downstairs and opened it up.
The police officer told me that there were reports of hoodlums terrorizing multiple houses in our subdivision. At one house they were shouting for a guy named David to come out. They had actually turned the power off at that house. The officer surmised that the guys who had been at my house had been looking for someone, but had gotten the wrong address.
The kids and I lay awake in my bed until sunrise, I tried to reassure them. Later in the morning, I called Firehubby. He was upset that I had not called him as it was happening. Could you imagine how he would have felt, getting a call from his wife that someone was trying to intrude into our home, when he was forty miles away? Horrible.
One of our neighbors came by the next day. He lives a few houses down. He told us that he had just come out of his house to workout in his garage, at about 03:45, when he heard the commotion. Not knowing what the guys were up to, he started down the street to check out what was going on. All four of the guys rushed into the truck and sped off, shouting “It’s none of your business.” This neighbor happens to be a probation officer and was likely armed. So, he had saved me.
Another neighbor woman had turned on her lights to try to scare them off.
The Lord clearly provided protection for me that early morning, in many ways. The fact that I was awake at that weird hour was a blessing. I can not imagine how I would have reacted if I had been awakened from a sound sleep. Then, of course, He provided people to come to my aid.
Additionally, when Firehubby came home the next morning he found evidence that the bad guys had been mule kicking my door. If you know how these houses are made, not the most solid construction, you can see that the Lord absolutely kept us safe by not allowing them to kick in my door. I am so very thankful.
Only by the grace of God was I able to rest in my home again when Firehubby was away at the fire station.
The first night when I was home alone, as I settled into be, I noticed something on my bedroom door… more of His grace.
It is a source of comfort to me every night when Firehubby is on duty and I am home alone. I keep a light on so I can see it (me, afraid of the dark?).
Can you see it?