In our house we fight bad guys.
That’s just what we do. Just ask my four-year-old son. Just like Batman and Aslan, we’re brave and protect people.
It’s interesting how brave you feel when everything is ok.
Last night we woke up to the police chasing someone who shot at them at the baseball field across the street from our house and was loose in our neighborhood. We were told to go down to the basement while they searched.
12:30 a.m. found the five of us huddled on the couch in the dark as we told our kids it was like a storm. At that point I wasn’t feeling too brave about fighting real bad guys. The sight of me in my boxers and brown polo with cupcake icing on the shoulder didn’t really give off the Russell Crowe Gladiator “Look out bad guys” vibe either.
Instead I felt a very tangible helplessness, a weird feeling that all I could do was hide in the basement of my own house.
It’s interesting how much of life we are powerless over and how much we delude ourselves thinking we’re in control.
30 minutes later we were notified they’d found the suspect and everything was ok, but that feeling danced around in my head and heart as I laid in bed.
I’m not in control.
All I can do is hide in the basement. But, that feeling also reaffirmed to me my desire and need for something greater than myself – because I’m not strong enough to fight the bad guys on my own. Although I wouldn’t mind a Batmobile.