Drivin' That Train...

If you happened to be out and about last night, and on noting the driving misdeeds of others, wondered, “Where’s a cop when you need one?” the answer to your question is that they were all at our place. Yup, every single one, I’m pretty sure.

It seems a traffic stop on Lander somewhere near us netted one stolen car and one of two car thieves. The other got away, or so he thought. Our neighbor saw him jump our fence, which set off our alarm and our dogs. Soon there were like 50 police officers, county and city, plus a K-9 unit, all over our shop yard. (I kept thinking about all the dog poop they were stepping in ;-()...) After about an hour and a half they pinned down his location on our roof and called the Fire Department for a ladder truck and got him down.

It was all pretty exciting at first. But after a bit I just went back to bed and prayed (as best I could amid all the barking and shouting). I really did! I prayed that they’d get the bad guy, but also, I prayed the bad guy’d end up knowing Jesus (I know, silly me). I wonder if the guy hiding on the roof prayed. “God, if you just get me out of this, I promise I’ll never steal another car! I’ll never do drugs again! I’ll register all my guns! I’ll floss every day!” And now he’s sitting in a jail cell thinking, “Well, God didn’t show up!”

I don’t know, I guess I should be happy: The Good Guys won. But I feel sad that there ARE bad guys. What a life! A life my Lord died for. And multiply that life by… how many? How many lives wasted in this methamphetamine-infested valley? I just don’t think anyone grows up thinking, “You know what? I’m going go grow up and be a drug addict, and I’ll pay for it by being a car thief! Can’t wait!” No, I think probably it happens in little devil-baited steps, and no one sees that locomotive coming until it’s run them down.

It affects us all.


I really don’t know why I’m blogging about this. I didn’t plan to get on this soapbox. But now that I’m here...This is something that’s really been knocking on my heart lately. Maybe it’s because of the bad area Mike and I live in…or the drug house that everyone knows about, just three doors up from us. Or the young, desperate-looking woman I saw out front there last Saturday morning.

Ever look into the eyes of a tweaker? It’s not easy to do; they avoid eye contact. But then, most people don’t go out of their way to make eye contact with a tweaker (Jesus would have). But you’ve seen them, even if you didn't know it. You've seen them if you've lived here for at least a day. If you do look in their eyes, you will see the definition of the word “haunted.”

Not sure how to end this. I guess I would just ask for prayer for our rooftop rambler. We (Mike and I) truly believe the Lord sets His angels about this place (our shop). For some reason they let this guy get past them, and maybe it’s the best thing that could have happened to him. Maybe God really DID show up on his behalf last night. I pray it’s so!

(By the way, those of my generation will recognize the title of this post from the lyrics of an old Grateful Dead song. Different drug, same train.)