Talk with a Stranger

“ In 2010, while shopping in Hobby Lobby, I seemed to be in the way and said, ” Excuse me, let me move my cart out of the way so you can see the holiday ribbon.”

A sophisticated woman in her mid 50’s quickly said, ” No that’s okay, your purse is exposed in the open aisle. You can move your cart back in.”

I laughed, put up my Kung fu hands and said, ” Don’t worry if someone takes my purse; I’ll take care of them, ” just kidding of course.

In a serious tone, she looked at me and said, “You’re pretty small. I’m not sure about that. “

I changed the subject and asked her if she was buying for Christmas. She said her Mother had just died, and it’s not been long since her husband died of cancer.  In a somber voice, she’s explained she was not in the spirit.  After her husband died, she sold her house and moved to Texas to be closer to her son. She said she was  helping her son by making client appreciation gifts for her son who sold homes in a nearby community.

The actual transition of how our conversation turned into an hour and half long visit near Christmas tree ornaments, is beyond me.  Perhaps, she needed someone safe to talk with that day, someone that she would never see again.

The story soon turned from her Mother’s death and husband’s death to an incident that occurred when she was slightly younger than me, around 32 while living in California.

As most women do, sometimes after we have babies we don’t feel attractive. She decided one day to put on a nice dress for her husband, something he would like to see her in. She picked out a knee length dress with a belt, nothing overly sexy but cute. She wore it all day buzzing around town, one of her stops was McDonald’s, letting her kids play on the in-ground playground.

Unaware that she was being watched, she left with her kids and headed back home. Two men followed her home. For a few weeks they scouted out her gated community, walking the streets in business suits and brief cases, looking similar to a religious person that may knock at the door. They watched her household routine, noting when her husband left for work, how long he was gone, keeping tabs on neighbor activity. They even walked around her house while she was gone looking at all the entrances.

On a Friday morning, she was busy feeding her baby in the kitchen. Soon the back door off the new pool opened, two men in business suits  and suit cases entered the home without knocking. One of the men had a camera hanging from his neck startled she said irritatedly, “If you’re here to take pictures of our pool, you should have knocked. “

One said, “We are not here to take pictures of the pool. We’re here to rape you and kill you and your baby. Now grab that baby and take him up to his room.  Prop that bottle up. If he makes one sound while we rape you, we will splatter his brains all over the wall.  “

She said, ” I can’t prop the bottle. He’s a newborn, and he’ll choke.”

He said, “Lady, we’re going to kill you both anyway. Just do it NOW!”

In a trance like state, she walked up stairs and placed the baby in his bed, propping the bottle as he demanded. She silently prayed over her son as she exited the room.

He nudged her back, ” Go to your bedroom.”

The walk down the hallway seemed to be a long one, she thought about her family, the baby, how her husband would manage without her; her entire life flashed in her mind as she walked towards the master bedroom.

She starred ahead and saw a bed with no sheets. Friday was the day she stripped all the sheets in the house, her raw mattress would soon be the landscape for a horrific attack by demons disguised in men’s bodies.

” Do you know why we’re here? We saw you at Mc Donald’s and when you crossed your legs in that little dress, we decided you’re it. We followed you home and watched your house. We know you’re husband will not be back for a long time. Now go into your closet and put on that dress!”

He made her dress in certain clothes and raped her, forced her to engage in oral sex, he took pictures of her.  They sat the pictures  on her dresser, just underneath her family photographs. Seems these two criminals had done this before, she slightly remembers seeing other photographs in the brief case. They seemed to be prepared with all kinds of sex and torture items.

She did exactly what they told her, she feared that they would kill her baby so she stayed focus on being calm. Her mother instinct took over. Her babies survival was the only thing she focused on at this time. She seemed to go into some detached trance-like state, robotic doing exactly as they  ordered.

Soon the phone rang. Nobody answered it. Then, the phone rang again, again and again. She said, “That’s my husband, and he will keep calling if I don’t pick up.”

The one that had been having his way with her put a gun to her head and said, ” Answer it. You better think of something clever to say because if you don’t I’m killing you and the baby.”

She picked up the phone. She doesn’t know why she said this but she said, “Don’t ever call me again. “

When she put down the phone. He screamed at her, ” You ________ up!”

He then hit her over and over with the barrel of the gun, put a pillow over her head and pulled the trigger. All the time his partner in crime was yelling, ” That’s not fair. You got your way with her ,and I didn’t get to do anything. You jerk. You’re so selfish!”

When he pulled the trigger for some reason, the gun jammed. He was unable to shoot. His friend was still going on and on about not getting to rape her.

At that point, the main man said, “We’re leaving. I’m sure you’re husband will be coming home soon. This is your lucky day. But know this. We will come back to finish what we started. “

She just laid on the bed motionless, from being hit and having a gun shoved into her mouth she was bleeding pretty bad.

They walked out of the house and out the door. When they left the house they passed her sister and nephew, who lived close. They had walked down the street in their robes and slippers to check on her. Her husband just thought she was having some sort of a postpartum depression. 

As they passed her sister at the front door, they said, ” Good luck on what you find in there.”  The two guys took off in a small truck, but too fast for her sister to get the license plate. She ran into the house calling out her sisters name. With her mouth full of blood, only a small weak  gurgling sound could be heard from the bedroom.

Soon the house was surrounded by cops, detectives and her husband would see her in this defenseless state.

She explained to me that the baby is now the  grown son whom she moved to be closer too. They are bonded very strongly by the story of survival. He is the only child she had with her late husband.  She has other children from her previous marriage.

With tunnel vision, I listened intensively to her story, forgetting that I was in the aisle at Hobby Lobby. My eyes were locked on hers. I had never heard a story so horrific in my life. She finished her story. Said they never found the two guys, and that they still have her night gown and other evidence pieces on file at the police station.

She does okay, but she is still on edge. She always has her keys out before she walks to a car or anything. She always has her alarm on at home, and she never goes anywhere at night. A violent event like this changes a person forever.

She changed the story back to her mother’s recent passing.  That recent grief was so strong. She finished sharing and  I gave her my business card.  I hugged her and told her that if she needed a friend, to call me.

When I left the store, I was overwhelmed with what I had just heard. I called my mom to tell her the story.

I kept thinking about the poem my grandmother used to give people when she met strangers that were suffering. It’s called He Maketh No Mistake. I have no idea who wrote it. But she would keep copies of this poem framed, ready for when God lead her to give it.

My Father’s way may twist and turn,

My heart may throb and ache,

But in my soul I’m glad I know

He maketh no mistake. 

My cherished plans may go astray,

My hopes may fade away,

But still I’ll trust my Lord to lead

For He doth know the way.

 

Tho’ night be dark and it may seem

That day will never break;

I’ll put my faith, my all in him,

He maketh no mistake.

 

There’s so much now I cannot see

My eyesight’s far too dim;

But come what may, I’ll simply trust

 And leave it all to Him.

 

For by and by the mist will lift

And plain it all He’ll make,

Through all the way, tho’ dark to me,

He made not one mistake.

 

I couldn’t get her off my mind. I felt like either God or my Grandma from beyond were nudging at me.  The next weekend, I put together a beautiful picture album that looked like silver alligator leather on the outside. I glued a silver cross on the outside.

 On the inside of the album I wrote a letter about how my grandmother would give this poem out to strangers. I encouraged her to fill the photo album with all the memories she cherished. 

I had my husband take me to the model home of the neighborhood she said her son worked.  With a nice gift bag in hand, I entered the model home. Looking for her her son. He wouldn’t be hard to miss because she said he was 6 foot 4. 

The office was empty. But I looked at the picture on the bookshelf behind the desk. There was a very tall young man standing next to a woman who looked similar to me. She mentioned that I reminded her of her daughter in law. In faith, I left the gift bag. I thought if it was her son, that would be great. If it was a stranger, then I guess God got it to the right person. I put my contact information in the bag.

Weeks went by, I never got an email, a call or anything. I started to wonder if I had the wrong office. I continued to pray for her.

This December, just over a year later,  I was shopping for Christmas in Ross, which is just next door to the Hobby Lobby that I heard that horrible story. I had the day off. It was not a time I would normally be in any store.

 I was at the check out and I turned around and she was standing there. I couldn’t believe it. There she was. I called out to her, “Sammy ( name changed), How are you?” 

She looked confused and seemed to be preoccupied in thoughts. I said, “It’s Shea, remember me. We talked for over an hour last year in Hobby Lobby. How are you?”

She said, ” Hi.” The first thing she said was, ” Did you know that my mom died?”

I said, “Yes, last year when we talked you’re mother had just died.”

She said, ” Today is the one year anniversary of my mother’s death. My mom died one year today at 8 am in the morning.”

At that moment, I knew this was a God Moment. What are the chances of me running into her in a town of 58,000 residents? On a day and time, I’m typically at work. Not likely. God’s hand is in this one!

We talked for awhile. I asked her if she got the cross picture album. She did. I had a sense that she had her own reasons why she didn’t reach out to me after. That was completely okay. 

I said, ” I’m just glad you’re okay. You look better  and sound better.” 

I looked at her and said, “Sammy, you know that this is not by coincidence that I saw you one year later on the anniversary of your mother’s death. There is a bigger purpose for this. I’m so glad I saw you today. “

We departed. I had some closure knowing that she was in a better place in her life. 

 

 

Why would a good loving God allow his precious children to suffer?

Thoughts and scriptures to consider:

Learning Patience: God is working while you’re waiting and praying. Trust God’s Timing. He is never late. Sometimes he is working from many directions to get you exactly where you need to be. He may even be crossing missions, paths and purposes with plans he has for somebody else. God is not ignoring you. He is working for you. BE patient.  Don’t run ahead of God. Push the “pause” button and aggressively seek God, set your eyes on Him and off of the things that worry you. Suffering teaches us patience and faith.

You seek HIS Strength: NOT Yours: When your weary and weak, pray for supernatural strength, something only God can provide. He can re-energize you when you’ve given up hope, when you’re out of ideas, when you’re crying alone. He hears you so pray for God to strengthen and direction. Suffering makes us realize that only God can strengthen us.

Realizing You Need HIM:  Sometimes when we hit rock bottom, the reality of how much we need God sets in. When we struggle, we realize that we need to rely on God. Only through God can we achieve or get through anything. Often times we rely on our families, friends, doctors, financial ad-visors…but we forget to rely on God. Sometimes the Holy Spirit touches our heart for the first time through these sufferings. Some of the strongest testimony of faith’s come from non-believers who were touched by spirit during their darkest hour.

Suffering refine us. None of us are perfect. When we suffer God is refining all different aspects of our life and our personalities. He may even be using our suffering to Refine and improve someone else who is watching your situation. Don’t under estimate God’s ability to work double or triple time–on a bunch of people at once.

Suffering can be a gift. Some of us share our triumphs over tragedies with others.  We show true love and compassion for others when we empathize through shared experience.   Our stories on how God got us through can help give hope to others.

 Scriptures to Consider:

Romans 8:28

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.”

**One of my Grandma’s favorite verses. Love it. We may not know his purpose but he has a purpose for everything under the sun! All purposes pointing toward love!

 

Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

 ** Don’t be afraid to acknowledge your weaknesses to the Lord. He will bring you strength, refine you and he forgives.

Romans 5:3-4

 More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

***Absolutely love the above verse. This is the scripture of my life. I believe that my sufferings made me stronger, wiser, a better person and strengthened my relationship and faith in GOD. Thank you God for all my sufferings. I would not change a thing. It brought me closer to you. My sufferings have helped me do your work on earth! I can better serve your children who are suffering because of my experiences. I’m so grateful for every lesson you blessed me with. Thank you, Jesus.

1. Consider Purposes for Your Suffering….