Part 2: Surviving a Violent Crime

I’m amazed that an unexpected gift resulted from surviving a violent crime.


(Due to an ongoing investigation, I’m not at liberty to describe the situation  at this point.)

I don’t want to make this sound like an easy journey, finished and wrapped up in a red satin Christmas bow.


That’s as far from the truth as Saudi Arabia is from Siberia.


I’m still dealing with the police department. 

This steep climb of a journey has cost me over $1500 and will most likely cost over $2000 total. Possibly more. 

All for someone else’s mistake. The person didn’t commit the crime on purpose. 


Nevertheless, the situation resulted in counseling, medical bills and a week of missed work because I was -understandably -a sobbing, traumatized version of myself. 

When I gain more strength and information, I’ll navigate the legal system to recover the financial expenses that resulted from this brutal event. 

My heart cries for those who must seek medical treatment, counseling and miss work when they don’t have a financial cushion like we do. 


A few days after the event, I went for a walk.

On the opposite side of the street, I noticed something that reminded me of my attacker. 

My eyes widened and I gasped for air as I felt my heart pounding like a bongo drum. 

Time seemed to poke along as slowly as a Northwest slug as I walked by.

I almost turned around before approaching, but I felt God gently tell me, “Face your fears.”


My eyes widened as continued to place one foot in front of the other. My gaze glued to the situation like Superglue.

Fear pumped through my veins.


But – with God’s help – I did it.

I faced my Mount Fuji-sized fear.

Facing a fear means courage embraces my soul like misty water droplets of fog.

Who knew that the shaking, sobbing, flashback-giving experience would birth a beautiful gift? 

The gem inside the tragedy was a seed of courage. 


I’ll remember this event as the time I learned to grasp God’s hand tightly. 

The powerful interplay of fear and faith swirled into a cascading waterfall. 

And faith – sweeter than my grandmother’s raspberries – won. 

The time I chose to face my fears is branded on my heart forevermore. ~ 

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