Too Close to Home

I've debated whether or not to write this post for a few days now.  I wasn't sure it was worth it. I wasn't sure if it would be better to try and forget and just move on. But after days of feeling angry and sad and scared, and festering and stewing over this, I decided that writing about how I'm feeling might be best.

John and I live in that wonderful city that just hosted the Super Bowl - Indy! We were so proud and impressed with all the city did to host this major event, and we were lucky to be so close to all the action. We took advantage and visited Super Bowl Village several times, and really took in all the excitement.

Outside the JW Marriott and with Hoosh after walking to Super Bowl village!

Pin It  

Then Saturday happened. John was less than three blocks from our apartment when a man blindsided him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He proceeded to kick John in the ribs, before saying, "Give me your cash or you're dead." John gave him his cash, and the criminal ran away. It was only then that one of the 15 people around him bothered to walk up to him and say, "You alright, man?"

When John told me what happened I immediately got in the car to get him. I will not soon forget - if I ever do - how he looked as he walked; my tall (6'3), fit husband was hunched over with a huge lump on the side of his face. He struggled to get in the car, and I immediately lost it. Hysteria. Complete hysteria. There is no other way to describe my reaction.

I'm not much of a crier, but this sent me to a place I didn't know I could go. John was the one mugged and violated, yet I was inconsolable. I barely managed to get words out when I called his mom to tell her what happened. John, as always, was the calm and collected one. Somehow through the violent sobbing I managed to help him, though I feel like I was a zombie.

Hours later my body must have given up on me, as I suddenly fell into a deep sleep. I awoke to John's bruised ribs and face, and his weak smile. Yet again, he was telling me that it was okay. But how could that be okay?

He managed to give me a little smile...he's gotten blacker and bluer since then.

 As friends and family learned of what happened I continued to get messages and calls filled with the same words, "But how could someone do this to John of all people? He's the nicest person in the world!" He truly is. There is not a kinder or more genuine person. Not only that, John would have been the first person to help if he watched that happen to another person.

In the wake of what happened I'm left with some troubling thoughts. What if it had been worse? How could no one have said or done anything? Is it even safe to stay here anymore? These questions have made my chest tight, tears prick my eyes, and fear linger in my heart.

But in spite of those feelings, I've been left... grateful. Grateful for my husband, for his forgiving heart - even when I am not ready, his strength, his graciousness, his safety, and for him, period. But most of all, I am grateful to God. For His protection of John, His grace, and His strength, which I know is the only thing that will allow me to forgive and move on.

So with that, I thank you for reading this long post, if you stuck around to do so. And hopefully, you are reminded to be thankful for those special in your life.

on our honeymoon...had to end with a happy picture!