I’m probably overreacting.

I do that.

But.

If I go missing, please tell the police that they need to find the door to door steak salesman who was in my neighborhood yesterday afternoon. He was wearing an orange shirt with a collar. (Sorry. I’m not really a visual person, and physical descriptions are always a challenge. But Mike could describe him.)

Mike was home for an hour or so in the middle of the day and someone came to the door. It wasn’t one of those nationally or regionally known companies with trucks that have routes and menus, etc. This was a guy with a poor quality brochure about steaks sold by a company no one had ever heard of.

I watched their brief interaction from my vantage point on the couch. Mike gave him the brush-off by saying, “Well, my wife’s a vegetarian and I’m about to go out of town for awhile.”

At this point, the Generic Brand Steak Guy looked at me.

I looked at him.

He had definitely reacted to Mike’s words. His expression either meant:

a) Cool. Thanks for the tip – I will return when you are gone, murder your wife, and sell a new variety of steaks made from a petite vegetarian. Limited edition.

or, more likely

b) we have vegetarians in West Texas? WHAT?

A few years ago I would have tried to explain to Mike that you don’t say things like that to strangers, out of what should be a more protective stance towards the security of his oh-so precious wife. And he would have completely not gotten what the big deal was, as I have a history of overreacting to people trying to kill me.  Because, hello? He IS going out of town and also, i AM a vegetarian and the truth was the most expedient way to get rid of the Steak Guy.

I briefly considered trying to explain what was wrong with his statement, and what an uphill battle it would be, and then just didn’t even bother. Mike thinks the best of people. It’s a good quality and not one I want to change anyway. Instead I’m telling y’all what to do just in case, and I discussed extra angelic security measures with the Almighty.

He and I used to have need for those talks far more often. They’re the reason I’m still here. Those quiet, unmistakably authoritative directives “watch out,” “turn around,” “move that,” “wake UP,” “don’t go in there.” Words whispered right into my spirit that saved me, over and over again from minor to major harm.  Words that saved, and words that reminded me I was worth looking out for.

It was such a horrific time I’d never want to re-visit. Simply surviving it with any shred of sanity was a serious life accomplishment for me, and total proof that God can and will be there in every moment. He was there. Always.  Even when I was afraid to sleep, but finally did, He stayed.

I don’t really like to think too much about those days, but it’s necessary in order to hold on to what that sort of faith looked and felt like. When people talk about depending on God for everything – I get it, when before those words sounded hollow and religious. Depending on whispered directives in order to get through each day unhurt is not my life anymore – God carefully whispered me right out of that phase and into another one where I usually sleep so peacefully I forget to appreciate He’s there.

Anyway. I don’t suppose He brought me through the last 7 years in order to let me get killed by a door to door steak salesman.  Now that I think about it.

Right. And I didn’t think that at all when I started writing this, and now I’m reminded of all the very real ways He kept me safe for so long and I feel a bit faithless for even forgetting it long enough to worry… tempted to delete the whole thing. But maybe this veeeery-not-eloquent reminder can stay here in case i need it again one day.

In case any of you need to hear it, there’s nothing special about me – YOU are very much worth His looking out for, standing guard over, whispering saving words sort of love also. In case you need that reminder. (Remarkable, isn’t it?)

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