I feel an overall relief now that the recent string of burglaries has been broken by the arrest of a county woman, but in a way I’m disappointed, too.
Before the arrest, I took much solace in the fact that the robbers (and it was rumored there were two, so one might still be on the loose) were nonviolent and only forcibly entered houses when no one was home to give them “directions.” It was only our stuff and not my family’s persons that seemed in danger, and so, anticipating filing a nominally hefty insurance claim once my beloved stereo, thrift-store shirts, and $180 electric guitar were stolen, I traipsed around taking pictures of everything we own and uploaded them to my private photos account on the web, and then recharged the camera’s battery for when the people showed up.
I also came up with a number of response plans ranging from vigilante justice to Christianity. When leaving home we of course locked our doors and closed our gates, but I was more concerned about what to do if we were home when They arrived.
The extreme cowboy in me wanted to move all of our vehicles to another location to make it look like no one was home, then wait with the camera poised, 9-1-1 at the ready, and a heart-stopping greeting for anyone who dared enter. But that would only be asking for a new layer of trouble–for me if not them–and so I quickly scrapped any such notions.
Besides, our church’s morning service on the very day we learned about the robberies had been about loving the stranger, and the service on the following Sunday, the morning of the day the woman was arrested, was about loving one’s enemy, with lots of super-relevant Bible verses. It was rather compelling.
About twenty-four hours before learning of the arrest, even before the love-your-enemies service, M and I brainstormed: We could greet the people asking for directions with, “Are you the people we’ve been hearing about who have been robbing homes? Come on in! We don’t have much stuff of much value, but we have plenty of good food–let us get you some.” And so on.
If that would have gone smoothly, I’m disappointed that it didn’t happen. But at the moment I’m mainly glad that I still have all my stuff.