Labor Day Weekend my sweet high school besties (minus our mustang) came for a visit with their families! We had a blast! There is something to be said about 20 years of friendship! I did have some sweet sweet glasses back in the day.
17 years ago today I woke up to what I thought was a pipe busting.
It wasn't until I stood up and opened my bedroom door, that I realized that noise was no pipe. I guess it was the smell of gun powder that gave it away. I whispered, "I love you mom and dad." The holy spirit has a way of telling you things.
I walked outside my bedroom door to see what was going on. That's when I saw the reflection of a man in the window above the front door. A man wearing a tied dyed shirt, jeans, and a pony tail.
That's when it started coming together. The smell, the time of day (3:30am), nobody coming to my rescue, seeing my brother trying to leave the house without even saying hi to me.
I ran back into my room, straight to my closet where I had left my phone. I dialed 911. The dispatcher came on the phone. I have no idea what I said. Except that at one point I asked her if the police officers if they where on their way. She answered, "Yes, stay calm." I walked out from being barricaded in my bathroom, and looked out my bedroom window to see the officers, swat team (it was a hostage situation), and the ambulance pull up. I stood in the middle of my room where the bedroom door meets the wall, hoping when they shined their flashlight in my room they would see me or at least a shadow of me.
It was seconds later I heard, "Is someone in there." I yelled back, "Yes, I'm by myself." It was silent for a moment. "OK, we will be back."
So I sat on my bed and waited. Wondering if I will ever hear my mom and dad's voice again? Will they ever come up here to get me? I called my friend, Beth, as I sat on the bed and waited. She talked to me, calmed me, cried with me, told me she would come get me.
The officers came back up and had me sit on the couch in game room. There I sat in my mom's silky nightshirt and shorts. A little too short and a little too big. I was 14 years old and thought it was cool to wear such pretty things to bed. Never thinking I would be talking to grown men in such an outfit.
They asked me if I knew the man that I had seen earlier. I lied and said no. They then asked if my sister was married. She was, and I knew it wasn't her husband. Afraid they would go after him, I admitted the truth. I told the officers it was my brother I saw running to the front door. They replied, "That's what we thought." I asked, "Are they gone? Both of them?" The office looked down to the ground, shook his head and said, "Yes." I quickly asked, "Is there anyway you can save them?" (referring to my parents) He shook his head no. Then I asked about Stephen. They said he had injured himself and was being life flighted to the hospital where they were going to try and save him. He died in the helicopter.
I have to stop here and say I love Stephen will all my heart. He is forgiven. Not only by me, but by God, by my sister, by my family, by my mom and dad. He was a good man. A beautiful man. A man that struggled, like all of us. He made a really bad choice that night, but I believe he is, with my parents, in eternity.
I know the next thing most people wonder is why?? I don't know why. We all have our speculations. Past wounds that never got healed. Mental instability. We will never know. And for me, that's okay.
As the story goes. I looked at the officer and said, "Well, God will give you the strength to handle anything." The officer looked at me and said, "You have strong faith little girl." I was shocked this man called me, ME, a little girl. Did he not see my sexy older looking silky pj set? I was not a little girl.
The officer had me put a shirt over my head to walk downstairs and out the door... for my mom was shot and killed when she opened the front door. Her body laid at the bottom of the stairs. The officer did not want me to see her blood. He escorted me outside and into the patrol car. I had my bible in one hand, my mouse stuffed animal, and my mom's dog in the other. I sat in the police car, bible opened, starring out the window.
Let me stop again. I am not some sort of a saint. My parents were believers. They had radically changed their lives when I was in Jr. High. And my dad did instill in me how important it was to have a relationship with Jesus. That you in your lifetime you will be given many "tests" and it is how we respond to the tests that matter. He gave me that speech a week before he died. I also went to christian school were I was taught in times of trial we turn to Jesus. So there I was, in the police car with the only thing I knew to grab, my bible and my dog.
This story could go on and on... but I will wrap it up... after some time sitting there the officer came and got me and took me to the neighbors. That is where CPS came to check on me, where I called my sister to tell her the news, where the principal at my school called me Lindsey instead of Lesley. Where my friends came to visit. And it was from there I left and stayed with a friend from school. Four days later, the day after my parents funeral I was off to live in College Station, TX with my Aunt, Uncle, and 2 cousins....
Now here is where the good part comes in. That is, that from that day, the day my parents and brother died, to this day, the day I sit next to my sleeping daughters and son on my bed... God has fulfilled every promise He has ever given me. It has not always been easy and at times I wished Stephen would not have spared my life that morning. But God did. And I am here to say God is trustworthy! He is a Father to the Fatherless- not only in who He is, but who He sends to be in our lives. He did heal up my broken heart and He bound up my wounds. He sent in people to love me in those empty places. He made me comfortable with empty places. He turned ashes into beauty. He set my parents FREE! No more tears, no more shame, no more condemnation, regret, hurt, worry... They are FREE! To love and live in eternity. I remember someone telling me if they had the choice to come back to earth and raise me or stay in heaven, they would stay. That is how marvelous it is!
Great is the Lord. So worthy of praise. One generation commends your work to another.
His Goodness is there, in the hard places, sometimes it's hard to see. You have to look for it. See it. It's there. It just might be in your husband. In your work. In nature. In your kids. In the silence. In His Promises or purely In faith of His Goodness.
"A Good Man Leaves A Spiritual Inheritance for His Children's Children"
20 Years Ago Today My Parents Left Their Spiritual Inheritance Down Here On Earth as They Entered The Kingdom of Heaven. There is No Greater Gift To Have Left Behind Than Such A Legacy of Faith For Generation to Come!