
We always wonder what kind of person we are when it comes to facing danger. Fight or flight? Which response will surface when you're faced with life's most threatening moments?
I didn't know, until recently.
On our last day visiting Montreal, our boys wanted to return to their favorite museum. Thankfully my second son was as ready as I was to exit and enjoy the fall air while the others finished the program.
I reluctantly agreed to race him all the way to our truck in search of some kind of ball to kick around, but I soon slowed my pace, noticing lights on the outside of our truck. "Did we leave a door open?" I wondered. We neared closer, and I heard the unlock button. I looked around thinking my husband and other kids were using the key fob behind me, but they were nowhere in sight.
Now we were just a few yards from the truck, and I noticed men inside of it. Was this someone else's truck? My mind flashed in seconds through a scroll book of checkpoints before landing on the evidence of what was happening. I went from questioning where we parked, to realizing people were actually trying to steal our truck.
What happened next steal feels a bit strange. Maybe because I had a child with me, or maybe because it was in broad daylight and there were at least a few people within ear shot, but I began to scream, "Hey! Hey! What are you doing!"
The three men frantically jumped out of our truck and into their own. I placed my hand on the hood and took out my phone. I wasn't sure what to do, but for some reason held up my camera and began snapping pictures as they burned rubber out of the parking lot.
While I caught my breath, and reassured my son, we called both my husband, as well as the police. The entire event felt surreal, but the strangest part was my reaction. Why hadn't I considered the danger? Why had these men seemed so spooked when all I did was yell like a mama bear? They clearly knew what they were doing--not a scratch on the truck, not one piece of broken glass, not even the alarm sounded. Why not finish the job and take the truck?
While there are hundreds of possibilities, the police shed light on a few things: American license plate, easy target, decent truck can be sold at the port and never seen again. There are no cameras in that specific parking lot. It was a standard, repeatable job.
The police thanked me for the photographs, exchanged information, and answered our questions. Then we went on our way. Later, when the adrenaline wore off, nausea and exhaustion hit me. I asked myself the same question: why did put myself and my son in danger? Why not let them just have the vehicle?
I found myself replaying the entire scene that night, but I inserted scary "what ifs" instead of what actually was. Then I realized it:
"Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world." (1 John 4:4)
It was not me who scared those men, but He who is in me. It was not me who wanted to keep the truck, but perhaps He who wanted those men to finally see the error of their ways. It was not me who was courageous, but God in me. When we have Christ in us, we don't have to fear what comes. We don't have to go searching for danger, but we don't have to run for safety when it arrives. Hiding in comfortable corners can cause more trepidation and anxiety than if you actually saw what God can do through you.
God deserves all the credit for allowing us to stop a robbery. It was a blessing to keep the vehicle that pulls our home, but more than that, we prayed those men would be caught so that their lives could be changed for the better.
With God we can keep moving, knowing He's already a step ahead--He's prepared me to fight or flight, come what may.
~Carefully Careless Mama Bear
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