Scary Stuff

I'm not normally an easily spooked person. Paranoid? You betcha. I'm paranoid out the wazoo about a ton of things that life's experiences had dealt me. But easly spooked? Not really. (The sleepless night I spent after first watching The Sixth Sense notwithstanding.)

But last night...I admit, I did get a little spooked.

That escaped who's-it is still at large and while I haven't been neccessarily scared, I have taken precautions. I always keep my doors locked, of course, but I also locked my car doors (something I never have done in the country.), locked my storage room door that is open from the carport outside, I try to stay "aware" whenever I take Libby out after dark and just, in general, practice other common sense safty measures.

I, unlike a lot of the single women in our area, haven't lost any sleep over it. I haven't dwelled on it, worried about it, or even thought much about it beyond the safety measures I mentioned. I even refused when Daddy offered to loan me a gun to keep in the house. Not because I have anything against guns--I grew up in a house full of them. I just have a healthy respect for them. A respect (and slight fear) of them that was drilled into me from an early age. And that respect (and slight fear) tells me that I'd be more dangerous to myself than anyone else were I to weild one in the name of saftey. And I have the aim of a two-year-old blind kid and couldn't hit the broadside of a barn.

But yeah, I haven't been scared or worried. I fully trust God to take care of Libby and I in all circumstances and know that if for whatever reason I was accosted, I'd survive it.

Last night, though, I did get a little spooked.

I've gotten into the habit of rockin' out to some tunes after supper. And by rockin' out, I mean, stereo blasting-my mom would be so annoyed-and I'm glad I don't live in an apartment anymore rockin' out.  I was about 30 minutes into my dance craze when I stopped the CD player mid-song to switch CD's and I heard something a little frightening. I could have sworn I heard men's voices outside on the porch. I don't know for sure if it was men talking or not--it was rather low and stopped almost as abruptly as my blasting music had. But I know it was definitely something because Libby heard it, too. She let loose to barking which is one reason why I'm not exactly sure what it was that I heard.

So, heart pouding and hands shaking, I grabbed my phone and headed to the mudroom to peer out at the carport. Just in case there was someone outside, I didn't want to alert them by moving the curtains. So I checked through the slats of the blinds from the mudroom and didn't see anything. Got up the nerve and went ahead and peeked from the curtains in the living room. Still nothing.

So yeah. I don't know if anyone was actually out there. If there was, I assume Libby's sudden spate of barking and the abrupt halt to the blasting music ran them off. On the offchance that there was still someone out there lurking, though, I decided against continuing my dance-a-thon and shut the stereo off, cut the TV on with the volume down low and hunkered down with my phone and a book. I never heard anything else suspicious and Libby calmed down so everything's okay. I'm okay. Just a little rattled. And I hate the thought that that one brief moment fright has made me a little hesitant to continue enjoying my loud music and dancing. I need to dance. I just have to!

In a different kind of scary, there's some unpleasant and potentially bad crap going on in our church. I don't really want to go into details since, so far, nothing has happened. But we're having an emergency council meeting Monday night to deal with it. As things stand now, I'm deeply disappointed but reserving judgment until after the meeting. If things go badly, though--and I fear they will--I may decide to move on. There are some things in life that I just will not tolerate. And folks who let the deceiver stir up crap in our churches is one of them.

For those of you who pray, I ask that you pray with me that this issue is resolved to the betterment of the church in whatever way that might be. If my feelings on the issue are misguided, I pray that my eyes and ears be made to see and hear the truth. If things are as bad as they appear to me, then I ask that the Father step in and intercede--to take His church back and keep it on the path of it's true purpose. And--whatever happens--I pray that the Father uses me to his service. To give me the words He would have me speak and the courage to acutally speak them. As non-confrontational as I am, I fear that I might not fight as hard against this as He might lead me to. So, yeah. Ya'll just please be with me in prayer.

And that, as they say, is that. Happy Friday, ya'll.