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SWAT in the driveway /or/ this is the new normal

October 10, 2017 Jacqui
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{This post was originally written in August 2015 and republished as part of this series.}

I noticed the police car when we drove home from school. It was parked a few houses down. As my son chased the dog home, he caught wind of the fact that there had been a robbery. I just shrugged and said okay. That's pretty normal on our street lately. It was the sixth burglary I'd heard about so far this year, the previous one being right next door on the Forth of July. Such is life in the city.

God protects us, though, as the houses all around us have been robbed at least once, but ours has never been touched.

When one police car turned into two and I saw them running around the neighbors yard, however, I started to suspect more then a routine robbery investigation. Then I looked out the back and heard them yell that the house was surrounded, and I thought, well, they're certainly not chasing a dog. 

The kids had been outside riding bikes just moments before and saw the cars pull up next door. Eva was still out on the front porch, her bike sitting at the end of the driveway where she left it. I had her come inside and locked all the doors. 

The cops that showed up next were carrying guns that said they weren't messing around, and the kids and I went down the basement for a while. Ben stayed upstairs to find out what was going on. Funny enough, I wasn't scared at all. I told Ben to take some pictures outside, and he glared at me. I make photo collages, so priorities, you know. And besides, how many times in a lifetime are police with assault rifles in your front yard?

Hopefully just once, and hopefully never aimed at us.

The lieutenant told us that we would need to leave the premises, since we were so close, the suspect being right next door. I felt bad for the kids, because although they were trying to cope in their own way, some of them were scared. Men with big guns, masks, and shields were milling about, setting up a perimeter, and standing in our front yard.

We left after dinner and went to get ice cream, because what else do you do when the SWAT team is hiding in your lilac bushes? 

On the way out the door, I almost asked if they would pose for a picture with the kids--selfie with heavily armed men, anyone??--but then I thought, nah... It's not every day that SWAT is in your driveway, though, so it was probably a missed opportunity.

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An officer bent over and pulled the baby's bike out of the driveway as we were pulling out, and that was such a visual for me, seeing the group of them standing there by the toddler's overturned bike.

We drove slowly down the street, past the long line of police cars, past all the neighbors sitting on their front porch. It looked like there was a summer movie event or something with the amount of people watching.

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The officer at the end of the street moved the police tape to allow us out, and we could see SWAT set up at the corner drug store, ready to roll out the tank. It would've been cool to have a front row seat to all the action, unless it went south, of course. So we went on our way.

We live a crazy life in this city, but I wouldn't trade it. A few hours later they got the guy, and life returned to normal.

 


This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, 31 Ways God Paved the Road to Urban Missions. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. To receive these posts directly in your inbox every week, subscribe below!

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In Write 31 Days Tags City Life, SWAT
← the mom beating her son /or/ finding common groundwhen home isn't home /or/ in the city but not of it →

HELLO!


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I'm Jacqui, the mom behind the camera. Wife of one + momma to five. Writer + speaker. Unqualified philosopher + theologian. Accidental mentor. Chaos manager. Lover of coffee + wine, perspective, and Jesus. Truth teller. Freedom fighter. Worth affirmer. Wanna-be author + world changer. Occasional cusser. Laundry piler. Emoji enthusiast. It's nice to meet you!

I hope you'll stay awhile and take a look at life through my lens, as I seek to find joy in the mess and walk with God through the beauty of everyday life.

 

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Year three, buddy. Let’s give it all we’ve got. 🌬🎂🎉 Also, please note that his birthday was actually the 6th. #5thkidproblems #wecannotbegoodatallthethings 🤷🏼‍♀️
Year three, buddy. Let’s give it all we’ve got. 🌬🎂🎉 Also, please note that his birthday was actually the 6th. #5thkidproblems #wecannotbegoodatallthethings 🤷🏼‍♀️
It’s the last day of school for the week, and the only thing I L💗VE more than Friday is a Thursday that feels like one. Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!

Also, if someone signs up for your mailing list with an email address that literally reads, “stuffiwontread@______.com”, that’s a good sign, right? 🧐 Asking for a friend. 😂
It’s the last day of school for the week, and the only thing I L💗VE more than Friday is a Thursday that feels like one. Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! Also, if someone signs up for your mailing list with an email address that literally reads, “stuffiwontread@______.com”, that’s a good sign, right? 🧐 Asking for a friend. 😂
Sweet girl, when’s the last
time you saw your reflection
and thought, “it is good”?
2/11/19

#dailyhaiku
Sweet girl, when’s the last time you saw your reflection and thought, “it is good”? 2/11/19 #dailyhaiku
#ifgathering2019 🔥🔥🔥
#ifgathering2019 🔥🔥🔥
There’s a Soup-er Bowl party every year at church where we all cook up our tastiest batch of soup as a dinner offering, with a side of competition. And also jalapeños, in this case. My culinary brainchild (to which my daughter said, “what does that mean?!?! 🧐😂) this year is Hot Pickle Cheese Soup. It will either be the hottest new trend in cooking or complete crap (likely somewhere in between, but that lacks the dramatic flare I naturally gravitate towards, so 🤷🏼‍♀️💃🏻). Will report back. 👌🏻♥️🥒🧀
There’s a Soup-er Bowl party every year at church where we all cook up our tastiest batch of soup as a dinner offering, with a side of competition. And also jalapeños, in this case. My culinary brainchild (to which my daughter said, “what does that mean?!?! 🧐😂) this year is Hot Pickle Cheese Soup. It will either be the hottest new trend in cooking or complete crap (likely somewhere in between, but that lacks the dramatic flare I naturally gravitate towards, so 🤷🏼‍♀️💃🏻). Will report back. 👌🏻♥️🥒🧀
What’s the most logical thing to do in the midst of a polar vortex, you ask? Go swimming. Obviously. 😂 We have some pretty cool (crazy? 🤪) friends who roll like that, though, & they blessed us with an overnight stay at a hotel. ♥️ Food, friends, games, & fun. Also, a lack of level zero voices & noise complaints. We cannot be good at all the things. Bless. 💃🏻😜
What’s the most logical thing to do in the midst of a polar vortex, you ask? Go swimming. Obviously. 😂 We have some pretty cool (crazy? 🤪) friends who roll like that, though, & they blessed us with an overnight stay at a hotel. ♥️ Food, friends, games, & fun. Also, a lack of level zero voices & noise complaints. We cannot be good at all the things. Bless. 💃🏻😜
I mean, it’s worth a thought. 🤷🏼‍♀️😂 Just sayin. 😋🌮 #tacotuesday #itssimplytuesday
I mean, it’s worth a thought. 🤷🏼‍♀️😂 Just sayin. 😋🌮 #tacotuesday #itssimplytuesday
Day 12 // PROGRESS
.
“We’re created in 
the image of God, we bruised 
and battered people.

And this is WORSHIP:
the seeing rightly of us
and calling it GOOD.”
.
I still write best late at night, a little bleary-eyed from truth, a glass of wine in hand (Riesling, please), the words doing the hard work of building a bridge from my heart out into the world, one character at a time.

I looked back over those lines above, hastily written in my Story last night, and thought, DAYUM...that sounds good! 😂😇 (Humility is a work in progress, y’all) But WHY does it sound so good? 🧐 Oh, right. It’s a haiku, or at least I think it is. And can you string two of them together like I just did? I don’t know these things. Also, how can such depth, truth, wonder, and magic be contained in so few syllables? And how does poetry speak the language of the soul? 🤷🏼‍♀️ Not sure about that either.

What I can say definitively today, however, is Progress Shmogress. Let’s keep showing up as our truest selves, and I have a feeling “progress” will take care of itself. ♥️ #hopewriterlife @hopewriters
.
P.S. I bet you’ll never be able to guess which feet are mine. 😂😂😂
Day 12 // PROGRESS . “We’re created in the image of God, we bruised and battered people. And this is WORSHIP: the seeing rightly of us and calling it GOOD.” . I still write best late at night, a little bleary-eyed from truth, a glass of wine in hand (Riesling, please), the words doing the hard work of building a bridge from my heart out into the world, one character at a time. I looked back over those lines above, hastily written in my Story last night, and thought, DAYUM...that sounds good! 😂😇 (Humility is a work in progress, y’all) But WHY does it sound so good? 🧐 Oh, right. It’s a haiku, or at least I think it is. And can you string two of them together like I just did? I don’t know these things. Also, how can such depth, truth, wonder, and magic be contained in so few syllables? And how does poetry speak the language of the soul? 🤷🏼‍♀️ Not sure about that either. What I can say definitively today, however, is Progress Shmogress. Let’s keep showing up as our truest selves, and I have a feeling “progress” will take care of itself. ♥️ #hopewriterlife @hopewriters . P.S. I bet you’ll never be able to guess which feet are mine. 😂😂😂
Day 11 // FEELING

You know the Enneagram 4’s have been waiting all week for this one, right? 🙌🏻😉 In other news, I sobbed uncontrollably again tonight while watching the bonus content in The Greatest Showman about the creation of the song This Is Me and the subsequent discovery of Keala Settle (the Bearded Lady). You guys, if you can get your hands on this 10 minute clip, WATCH IT. And while I’m still unpacking the origin of such a visceral reaction, I will say this: when you “are” your feelings as I am most days (#enneagram4problems), the shame you experience and inflict upon yourself as a result this is palpable. It’s tangible, undeniable, and vivid. It can feel more true and real than God. Deep cuts the message, the lingering wound, that I’m missing something vital, important, something everyone else seems to have but I lack.
.
“The sharpest words wanna cut me down,” she sings, and from my experience, the most lethal ones come from within. They wield the longest blade and penetrate the deepest caverns of my soul. Unseen from the outside, their abuse goes unnoticed. Shame is the ultimate assassin, but I will not let it have the last word. There is freedom in being rightly named, and I will sing it over and over and over again until it rings true:
.
“I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me”
.
#hopewriterlife @hopewriters
Day 11 // FEELING You know the Enneagram 4’s have been waiting all week for this one, right? 🙌🏻😉 In other news, I sobbed uncontrollably again tonight while watching the bonus content in The Greatest Showman about the creation of the song This Is Me and the subsequent discovery of Keala Settle (the Bearded Lady). You guys, if you can get your hands on this 10 minute clip, WATCH IT. And while I’m still unpacking the origin of such a visceral reaction, I will say this: when you “are” your feelings as I am most days (#enneagram4problems), the shame you experience and inflict upon yourself as a result this is palpable. It’s tangible, undeniable, and vivid. It can feel more true and real than God. Deep cuts the message, the lingering wound, that I’m missing something vital, important, something everyone else seems to have but I lack. . “The sharpest words wanna cut me down,” she sings, and from my experience, the most lethal ones come from within. They wield the longest blade and penetrate the deepest caverns of my soul. Unseen from the outside, their abuse goes unnoticed. Shame is the ultimate assassin, but I will not let it have the last word. There is freedom in being rightly named, and I will sing it over and over and over again until it rings true: . “I am brave, I am bruised I am who I'm meant to be, this is me Look out 'cause here I come And I'm marching on to the beat I drum I'm not scared to be seen I make no apologies, this is me” . #hopewriterlife @hopewriters
Obligatory after-school photo (and also, a hat tip to the teachers who watched them all pile illegally into the van and didn’t say a word). 👌🏻😂 #theirfacessaiditall #carryon #motheroftheyear
Obligatory after-school photo (and also, a hat tip to the teachers who watched them all pile illegally into the van and didn’t say a word). 👌🏻😂 #theirfacessaiditall #carryon #motheroftheyear
 

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