Good From Evil

FishersThree years ago today, I survived an attack in front of my home.

It was a hot summer night.  I had just arrived home from visiting a friend.  I pulled into my parking place in front of my new apartment.  I moved to Fishers just 6 weeks earlier.  What a great place to raise a family! I was told.

It was around 10:30 p.m.  I got out of my car and stepped onto the sidewalk.  My heeled sandals clicked as I inched closer to my door.  My keys were in my right hand, my purse in my left.

That’s when I heard it, the sound of feet rapidly running up behind me.  In that moment, I knew something was wrong, and yet instinctually, I turned. 

I saw two Hispanic men running toward me, just a few feet away.  All I could do is scream. 

In those split seconds, two thoughts went through my head.  First, I’m going to die.  Then, Hit the panic button on your car keychain.  I tried, unsuccessfully.

Just give me your purse, one said as he grabbed my arm and ripped it from my grasp. He may as well have ripped out my heart, as well, since in that moment he stole my security, my safety, and my sense of confidence.

Adrenaline pulsed through my body, but I stood, frozen in fear.  And so they ran to their getaway car that was parked at the end of my street. 

They were out of sight before reality hit.  I had no phone; it was stolen with all the other belongings in my purse.  My checkbook.  My credit cards.  My drivers license.  What am I going to do?

Thankfully, a neighbor heard my cry and came running.  Are you alright, Miss? 

Please don’t hurt me, I said through my sobs as I backed against my door. Please don’t hurt me.

I won’t hurt you.  He promised, as he stopped dead in his tracks.  I’m going to call 9-1-1.  It’s going to be okay. 

He stayed with me until the police arrived. 

This doesn’t happen here in Fishers, ma’am, a policeman tried to reassure me, shaking his head. 

Thus began a long night of filling out police reports, freezing credit card accounts, and cancelling checks.  It was after 2:00 a.m. by the time my tasks were finished. 

Despite being in the safety of a friend’s house, I barely slept.  My security was shattered.  My mind replayed the events like a broken record.  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their faces.  I heard their footsteps.  I felt their strong grasp on my arm.  I relived the horror over and over…

I still struggle with why I am one of the very few victims of violent crime in Hamilton County.  This side of heaven, I may never know.  But I do know that I have prayed for those men, my perpetrators, a lot over the last 3 years. 

Though I may not have the answers I so desire, I love and trust the One who protected me and walked me through it, for only He is capable of bringing good from evil.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” -Romans 8:28


~ by Serena on July 14, 2009.

5 Responses to “Good From Evil”

  1. Wow. I’m so sorry to hear about that Serena. Thank God you’re okay…

  2. Serena…as I read your blog, I am once again reminded and deeply touched by your ability to capture thoughts, feelings, and raw emotions simply by tapping out letters and words onto an empty screen. That ability is a gift from God! Thank you for your honesty, and transparency as you share sometimes difficult experiences and unique perspectives from your life. God uses those experiences we go through in life (good and bad) to communicate His love to those in need. Certainly, our world is full of those in need! Your blog serves as a beautiful reminder of His love for us…and His plan for our lives.
    Your friend,

  3. This is why you need to carry a johnny around everywhere you go :). I’ll keep ya safe in Japan! I am part of Yakuza after all haha. I love you friend and am glad to see that you’ve grown in this and I’m so glad that you made it through it without physical injury.

  4. […] much more conscious of my surroundings since I got mugged a few years ago, so I immediately started looking around, taking in my surroundings.  That’s […]

  5. […] To be aware of my surroundings (post-mugging) […]

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