Meant for good...

This weekend has been one of the strangest of my life.  I came home Friday night to find our house ransacked, and many of our belongings stolen.  At first came a sense of shock, then of disbelief, then of fear, then of anger.  It is strange that events happen to us as whole beings-- not just affecting our minds, but also our bodies and emotions.  I have tried very hard to process this unexpected event in a godly way, but the effects of Friday night reached further than my thoughts.  It is curious to feel emotionally at peace about something and still feel like your nerves are out of your control.  I am tired from a lack of sleep, and on edge from the inevitable shock that came as I explored the rooms of our house with armed police officers that night.  Glass was broken; drawers were emptied and overturned; our clothes had all been searched and trampled, after first being thrown around the rooms.  It no longer felt like a safe place, but rather like a crime scene.  Item by item, we tried to remember what to look for.  What was missing?  How much was it worth?  (The police officer wrote down each item as we described it.)  What was still here?  (Praise the Lord!)  After seeing that a few of the most important things had not been stolen (photos, etc.), all I could ask Belmont through heaving breaths and heavy, frenzied tears was whether they had taken my grandfather's banjo. (I also checked the bookshelf and saw my grandparents' beautiful portrait sitting there unharmed, along with the costume jewelry that had belonged to my grandmother.)  It is not anything I regularly think about, or even anything that I would have expected to think about in such a state of shock, but those were the only words that I could speak.  I wanted to know that the evil had not stretched that far.  It might have come close to home-- affecting some of my more recent creative work and curriculum (since my laptop was stolen), my clothes, my sense of order and privacy, and even my safety as my home was invaded.  But certain possessions are irreplaceable.  God knew what I could handle, and in His grace He allowed a few items of comfort to be left behind.  Having to process such an evil event was made a little bit easier.  The few belongings that I have that belonged to my late grandparents were left untouched through His grace to me, and that closed chapter of my grieving heart was not again ripped open as I feared it might be.  My husband and I, too, were safe, having not been home at the time.  In the end, only some of our things were gone.  It hurt to think about these things, but they were still things... not anything of much eternal significance.  God had given us certain things to keep, at least for a while longer, and certain things we have had to part with.

We stayed with his parents for the night while the police continued the investigation for many hours.  A clear fingerprint was found on the television that will be entered into the case file, but that was the only solid evidence so far.  The serial number from my laptop was located, which may prove to be helpful, but it is doubtful that anything would be left on the hard drive if it were to be found.  The police officer in charge of the initial investigation stopped by again this evening to collect our fingerprints, but his work is done.  The case will now change hands.

And in my heart continues the hard work of responding well.  It is hard for me to imagine people destroying our home, taking things that they never worked for, and which in their eyes only represented money.  For me, the laptop was a gift from my best Valentine, while we were still dating, to provide a means for me to finish grad school (and all the research papers, grading, etc., that went with it).  It represented long, hard hours of work from someone who loved me-- a way to show me tangibly how much he cared.  It reminded me of the homemade dinner we had that Valentine's night, while we listened to Frank Sinatra and even danced for a few songs.  It reminded me of planning our wedding.  Of researching honeymoon destinations.  Of making our own wedding programs.  Of the weeks of work I spent on the Spanish curriculum to take to Mexico on my trip.  Of Eldon's Advent calendar.  Of baby shower invitations.  All of these things were still on my laptop-- all of which meant nothing to the person(s) who stole them.

We went to church this morning, and it was pleasant to be with our brothers and sisters in Christ.  I have been reminded over the weekend of many truths that have helped to mold my perspective on the burglary, a few of which came to mind during the worship service.  The most obvious was this:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  (Matthew 6:19-21)

I was also reminded of Joseph's story.  Regardless of the evil involved in this event, God is somehow working it out for our good.  (Romans 8:28)  As Joseph speaks to his brothers after all of the evil they have caused him, he confesses the same truth:

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good...    (Genesis 50:20)

The last one came as I was reminded of Who really gave me anything in the first place.   I was thankful for my laptop, and I honestly believe I was able to do a lot of things with it that were glorifying to God and helped to further His kingdom.  However, He has now seen fit that I would use other tools.  His is the kingdom.  How could I respond any differently than Job?  My grievances do not even compare to the losses which he suffered.

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.”  (Job 1:20-21)

That is where my heart is now.  There is a lot of cleaning up still to do-- around the house, and even emotionally.  But I know "that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another" (Job 19:25-27a).  I cannot say that I feel quite as secure here in our home as I have in the past, but I am reminding myself that it was never the locks, doors, or windows that kept me safe to begin with.  Even though I truly think that the thieves were still in the house when I came home, God allowed me to escape unscathed.  He has always led me, and will be my Protector all my life long.  Someday He will call me home and I will understand fully what I now only see dimly, as in a mirror (1 Cor. 13:12).

Please keep praying for us.  And pray, too, for the thieves.  The police suspect from the evidence, as well as the amateur manner in which the crime was carried out, that it was likely someone who had been in our home before.  How life-changing it could be for a troubled youth to be forgiven by someone whose home they had invaded and robbed.  Maybe it would lead to their hopefully someday coming to know a hope in Christ, outside of worldly possessions and things which can be stolen.

They meant it for evil.  But God meant it for good, as He always does.  It is in His arms that we are resting.