On Tuesday a burglar came and visited my parents’ house. The reason for the singular being used is because the burglar didn’t really take very much with him/her. A pair of my jeans, my dad’s brand new shirt that he got for his birthday that he hadn’t worn yet, his digital camera and not much else. The burglar appeared to have had plenty of time as he left the place in a mess and had carefully gone through most things – including sifting through the costume jewellery that I had there. All my "important" things were at my flat.
The burglar broke in through my old bedroom and managed to cut himself and left a bit of a blood trail. He probably put his arms through my freshly washed tracksuit top as it was inside out and all rumpled…
Co-incidently? the removal people had been there the day before taking my brother and sister-in-laws stuff away to transport to their new place. When my mom left in the morning there was a woman “hovering” around talking on her cellphone. Bit dodgy…
In God’s provision, my mom was out the whole morning and when she came back she decided to put out the washing and get the car ready to go out again, so she drove into the garden, turned the car around and as she did so, she saw a broken window and burglar guard. She was then able to drive back down the driveway and phone for help without having to go inside.
A horrible situation, but clear evidence that God was still there...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment