On Saturday, we had what I called a "staycation." A vacation where you don't leave town. I've been reading about them on blogs. Ours was unplanned, yet super fun. Peter, the kids, the dog and I headed out to come garage sales. We hit a few cool shops around town then headed to Cherokee street for authentic Mexican food at a taco stand. It was so yummy and lots of fun. We headed down to Soulard Farmer's Market for some fruits, veggies and fun. It was great day with sweet family time.
We were loaded down with veggies, a watermelon, two kids and a dog, so Peter went to get the car. As the kids and I stood there, a homeless man came up and talked to us. He was very kind, but clearly smelled like he had been drinking. He eventually asked for money. I had spent my last dollar at the Farmer's market which I told him. "Sorry Man." He walked down the sidewalk and promptly got in a fight over some alcohol. The kids and I watched the whole thing.
As we got in the car, Lillian wanted to talk about the incident. Why didn't I give him money? I didn't have any and he was drunk and we don't want to help him buy alcohol. Why are there so many bad things in the world? Why all this sin? Why did Uncle Brain have to die? Why did Hap and SaaSaa's house burn down? Why are poeple homeless? Heart breaking questions to get from your 6 year old. We talked about our need for a Savior and that this just isn't our Home. We need Jesus to save the world.
We get home from our great yet question filled morning to discover that our house had been bulgarized while we were out. Scary, creepy, heartbreaking. We all walked in the house then Lillian and I went back to the car. Peter then realized that we had been bulgarized. He ran out with Grayson and told us to go next door. A. This had never happened to me before, so I didn't know how to feel. B. I am on center stage to shape my kid's thoughts about it. They were clearly upset. Did our beds get taken? What about our toys? I have no clue what was taken at this point. I am assuming not those things.
At this point, a guide book in my back pocket that says here is what you do and say when your house gets robbed and the police are going through it. Some tips for how to parent would be great. I didn't know what to do, so I took them out for ice cream and we talked about our treasures being in heaven and not on Earth. It has been a theme of the summer with the burning of my dad's house and now this.
In a way, it breaks my heart to watch my children's faces as they experience sin and brokeness. And on the other hand all of the crap in the world shows us our need for a Savior and makes us long for our true Home where our treasures will not burn or die or be taken. As I look back on my life and my journey, I am repeatly being taught that this life just ain't it.
On Saturday, the Lord was generous with his truths reminding me that He is always watching even if robbers are too. He is always protecting me. By Monday, the weight of the things lost hit a bit more and I was able to honestly say that I am a bit uneasy here for the time being. I know those things that were taken were merely things, but they were mine. My computer filled with my pictures and my memories. And I have to live with the results of a fallen world where people sin.
Did I parent correctly? Beats me. Did I feel all of those things in my heart that I told the children? Kinda I knew that my response would shape them and I hope that they remember that I told them over ice cream that they were safe and loved and that all would be okay. After all, my response as a mom is supposed to reflect that of the King and that is what He was telling me.