Yesterday was an uneasy kind of day. You know, the kind of day where your soul feels like something is wrong in the world even though you don't know exactly WHAT is wrong in the world at that moment.
My son fell while visiting the zoo with his friend. It was a nasty cut, really deep. The zoo staff wanted to call the paramedics but my friend was wise enough to know it was a big owie but not a hospital owie. His knee bled for over 2 hours. My kids have had some big ouches, like when my oldest cracked open his head and had to have it glued shut. I'm a boy mamma, I can handle blood and bumps and grossness. This one, however, threatened to turn my stomach in its grossness.
Last night we heard yelling on our street. I tried to ignore it but when the sound of the fighting escalated and I heard someone yell, "You're dead" I decided to call police dispatch for my own peace of mind. We weren't the first call they had had and the cops were on my street before I even got off the phone with the dispatcher. Soon the voices died down but the police had called for EMS since the men were fighting so there was fire engines and ambulances, lights blaring, across the street. I decided that was a good time to call my mom-in-law to let her know that the ambulance, though in front of our elderly neighbor's house, was not there because of our elderly neighbor. I didn't want her to worry that he or his wife were ill, especially since he just recently had surgery.
I was grateful for the police. Like I said, I was already uneasy before the fight broke out. When the street was quiet again, Hubby flipping channels stopped on the news for a few minutes. Good news, there are new leads in the case of the missing, killed and mutilated little girl. Bad news that psycho is still out there. Two more reported attempted abductions this week, both closer to my home. I want to let my children live and I also want to smother them with severe over protection right now. I don't want them to leave my house AT ALL. I find myself hesitant to let my oldest sleepover at his friends house. Silly reasoning, actually. See he stayed over there the night the theater was shot up. And he stayed over there the night the news broke that the body had been found. I find myself almost superstitious, feeling that if he doesn't stay over there that bad things won't happen.
Of course I know that bad things happen and that my son's sleeping patterns have nothing to do with those bad things. I also find myself hesitant. At parent teacher conferences, they handed out flyers about student safety. All stuff both my kids and I know, still gut wrenching that we have to reiterate it.
I went to bed off, still uneasy. My mind raced a mile a minute while I laid next to my sleeping husband. And I fell asleep thinking of the many times the Bible says to not let your heart be troubled. I fell asleep hearing the words, "Let not your heart be troubled" on a replay track in my head. Those words were my lullaby last night.
God, help keep my troubled heart at peace. Bring peace and comfort to my heart. Help me to rest in the knowledge that you are in control.