A young man I know was robbed at gunpoint this weekend. He was pulled out of his own bed while sleeping, thrown face down onto the carpet, and threatened with a gun. "Where's your wallet? Where's your cell phone? Where's your money, rich boy?" Two gun shots were fired into the floor right by his head. He was terrified... and he prayed for his life.
This young man attends college. He also works at a nursing home taking care of those who can't take care of their own basic needs. He is not "rich." He does drive a new sports car... one he is paying for... it was not given to him by "rich" parents.
This young man's life was spared. His possessions were stolen (including his new sports car) but his life was saved. I know this young man's mother. I have watched her cry many tears over the last two days. I know what she is thinking because I have an only son just like she has... she is crying from relief... her son is still alive. She is crying over "what could have been." She is crying for all of the other mothers who have lost children to violence.
This mother is realizing what her most important possession is... it is love.
When I think about what happened to this young man, I get angry. Angry at the violent man who had no business trespassing into a home that was not his own. Angry at the way he treated the young man I know. Angry at his use of "rich boy"... as if the label "rich" made what he was doing okay. Angry at the possibility of someone hurting my own loved ones for no other reason than possessions. Angry. Just angry.
People always ask, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" I don't know. Evil exists. And evil can be very random. I do know that evil didn't totally win in this case because the young man is still alive. Praise God for that...