When You are Robbed

Last Friday morning my husband and I went hiking, along with our dog, Mollie. When we got back, a small bathroom window was open and things from the window shelf were on the floor. At first, we thought our son had left a mess, but when questioned, he denied it.

Someone had broken into our home.

A quick survey through the house revealed about $22 stolen from two purses. Credit cards, electronics and signed checks were ignored. Also ignored, to our eternal gratitude, was our sleeping daughter in her bedroom.

Incredibly, one more item was overlooked. The thief didn't realize he left behind his wallet and i.d., knocked out of his pocket, we assume, while the burglar squeezed through the tight window.

Unbelievable!

Today I am thankful for protection for our daughter. I am thankful for a pickpocketing angel that lifted a thief's wallet from his pocket. I am thankful for grace.

I was reminded of another time we were robbed three years ago. From my archives....

Grace For Nobody

On Friday Kevin and I rode our bikes to attend the Tempe Art Festival. We locked them to a bike rack and walked around for two hours. When we got back, our bikes were gone. After standing around with a sick I can't believe this happened to us feeling, we found an officer who came to take our report.

After giving descriptions, the officer had a few questions: Did we have the bikes registered? No .Did we have the serial numbers recorded? No. Did we have receipts? No. Did we have photographs? Yes.

We walked away knowing that the chances of ever seeing our bikes again were very slim -- right up there with finding a snowman in the Phoenix area at Christmas. And even though we had used our bike lock for over a decade, I walked away feeling like an idiot and wishing we had used a GIGANTIC lock to secure our property.

So to say I was surprised on Sunday afternoon when the Tempe police called to say they had our bikes would be an understatement. They ID'ed the bikes from a piece of paper they found in one of my bike pouches. On it I had written my name and address in case I was ever in an accident.

Who gets their stolen bikes returned? Almost nobody.

And without serial numbers and registration? An even smaller group of nobodies.

Suddenly, we found ourselves stumbling into a grace moment.

Grace -- something freely given and undeserved. A grace moment. It's not planned. It's not on a to-do list. It's completely unexpected. 

We didn't find it for sale at any of the booths at the art festival because grace isn't like that.

It's not given because you are smart enough or rich enough or talented enough or because you remember to write down serial numbers.  Grace can't be grace if it were dependent on any of those things.

Grace is free. It's undeserved. It's not from buying super-duper locks to keep the bad guys away. It's sometimes given even on days you feel like an idiot. Or a nobody.

In fact, I think grace is especially given on days like that.

So what do you do in a grace moment?

Maybe you will want to do what I did.

Simply bow your head and say, Thank You.