Reflections on Having Our House Broken Into

So when the family and I got back from a weekend trip to see the grandparents (in between coming back to preach at Bible Church on Sunday) our house had been broken into. My wife's computer got taken, along with a handful of other electronics: DVD player, microwave, cd player, etc.

We were supposed to be headed straight out to a birthday celebration, so some great friends came and took our kids to the party (thanks, Kortus family!) while Kelly and I talked with the police and straightened things up.

It's sobering to get your house broken into--it makes you feel vulnerable. Our room was totally trashed--they went through drawers looking for jewelry or gold bars or loose diamonds or enriched uranium or something. I'm sure they were disappointed to find that my sock drawer contained only socks.

It's funny what they left: our old t.v. was too big and old and heavy to take. Ditto our printers. Some of what they took was in need of replacing anyway--our cd player wasn't working and the microwave was burning the popcorn.

As we straightened some things up and drove to pick up the kids, we prayed. My wife prayed really generous prayers: that the men who did it would know the love of their Father, that they'd repent, that they'd find good work to do, meaningful work to do.

I've felt really gracious towards them as well. Been praying for conviction for their hearts mostly so that they'd come to their senses and end up living a life worth living. And I'm grateful that they weren't malicious. They were looking for stuff to sell and money to take. They could have done much more damage to the house.

Our kids have been a little spooked, but they've been okay. And insurance has been only moderately difficult to deal with.

Over the summer I realized that I was somewhat worried about our stuff--mostly worried that something "big" could break (like a car or roof or plumbing or wiring) and worried that we didn't have the money to fix it.

And so I started praying for the stuff. Daily, I give back to the Lord our cars and our house and our roof and plumbing and electrical and tell him that I trust him with it.

And what I've found over the past 23-ish hours since coming home to a plundered house is that this has worked to root in a new perspective on my stuff. It's God's stuff, not mine. He can protect it. He can allow it to be taken away. Either way, we ask him to provide for us what we truly need.

As I work with insurance adjusters and electricians and window-repair people, I'm trying to honor them as God might. And even as I hit grumpy patches today, I'm praying that God would give me a trust in him--the one who's Lord over my family, my stuff, my insurance company...all of it.

And I'm praying that I might learn to release other things to him alongside our stuff. I'm praying that I might grow up into a man who is surprised to find himself free from the things that would otherwise take up way too much prime real estate in my heart and my soul.

That...and of course I'm praying for continued favor with the good folks at my insurance company. USAA, have I told you lately that I love you?