God is Faithful

It has been a very long time since my last post. I've been pretty busy living life. Homeschooling 2 little boys and trying to learn how to keep a clean house take up a lot of time. Actually, I have even less time now, but I feel compelled to write, to share what God has been doing in my life recently.

On Thanksgiving Day, in 2007, we were in a car crash on our way to dinner. Our car was totalled, but no one was even slightly injured. The man who hit us (didn't see the red light and T-boned our car) was very sweet, and very upset, even though no one was hurt. My husband was angry, but he said nothing, thankfully. I assured the man that he had not ruined any one's Thanksgiving, and that everything was okay. He did not accept that, however, and insisted on giving us some money to make up for it. I highly doubt he had any more money than we do, and we're living hand-to-mouth, as it were. I couldn't talk him out of it, and honestly, since we had no money to replace our car, I was truly grateful for it.

A little while later, then, he gave us $1,000. With the insurance we got, it would make a decent sum to be able to get a used car. We had an old car (an 89 Camry) that wasn't running, that DH wanted to fix, but I didn't want that, I wanted something safer and more reliable. Admittedly, looking back, I was wrong to insist on a different car. The Camry, while it shakes like crazy when idling and doesn't want to shift into fourth, is drivable. However, I wanted a Volvo station wagon I had seen online for exactly the amount we had to spend. Volvo's are safe, if nothing else. So, we were about to go look at it, when my husband's temper unexpectedly took a serious turn for the worse. He was frightening to say the least. He said some things I will not repeat, and I felt quite unsafe. That night, at God's prompting, I fled with the boys, first to a shelter, and then, when it became clear that the shelter was a fast-track to divorce (they were pushy and demanding to say the least) I fled from there to my parents' house in Tennessee. I did NOT want a divorce. I just wanted DH to see the situation in as serious a light as I did, and turn himself around. That, he eventually did, and just before Christmas, we went back home to him.

This was the beginning of a new chapter in our marriage apparently. While the "honeymoon" feeling of being back together after such a separation wore off not long afterwards, he hasn't once shown signs of returning to the kind of behavior he had grown accustomed to in the past. He seems to have himself under control. He also appreciates me more now than ever, and has a modicum of respect for me. Not much though. He still says that whoever earns the living makes ALL of the decisions for the family. He is neither exaggerating, nor joking when he says that. He means it fully, and repeats it frequently, lest I forget "my place" and try to do something ...Which leads me to the most recent changes.

We live in, what used to be, a quiet suburban neighborhood. Our house sits in a cul-de-sac where our children love to play with the many other children who live here. However, things are changing at a pace that is difficult to grasp, and are changing for the worse.

Due to the neighborhood's location, within walking distance of just about any place anyone would want to go, realtors here say they cater to a certain type of buyer. Illegal aliens. I know, some will be taken aback that I dare to mention them in the context of a neighborhood going downhill, but I am merely stating a fact. (I'm not the politically correct type anyway.) Realtors prefer to sell houses in my neighborhood to illegal aliens. Frankly, I didn't even know it was possible for them to buy a house here. Perhaps one of the adults in the house is legal, and they make the purchase, while everyone else in the house is illegal. I don't know. All I do know is, that is who lives here. The realtors claim it is because the vast majority of them have no license to drive. Regardless, as houses sell, one by one, over the years, the demographics of the neighborhood have changed. English speakers are now in the minority here. My sons only have one friend with whom they can communicate, though that doesn't seem to hinder them at all. They play with everyone.

Most of the people who live here are wonderful people, regardless of their status. I have spent a great deal of time with one neighbor, and have been teaching her english. They all take very good care of their property, and are very hard workers. So, in all honesty, I can't complain about them. But there is one house, directly across the street from ours, that gives me concern.

In all, about 20 people live in the 3 bedroom, 1 bath, house directly across from us. They are known gangsters. One of them is the leader of one of the local gangs, and about 5 or 6 more males in the house are members. The females may be members too, but I cannot be certain. They are covered in gang tattoos, wear "colors", and deal cocaine, heroin, and marijuana in the street. Sometimes the drugs end up in my yard, or another neighbor's, but thankfully, none of our children have been hurt by them. The police have been called many times, but they never do anything. When they come, it is usually several hours, or even days, too late to catch them at anything.

One night, nearly 2 weeks ago, I was poking about online when I heard popping noises. I ran to the window and peeped out. To my shock, a large number of people were running around screaming in Spanish and bashing car windows, and people's heads, with baseball bats. Other neighbors said they saw guns, though I don't believe any were fired. None-the-less, it was terrifying. I called the police. They came, but too late to catch anyone. The gangsters told the police they had a clash at a party, and were followed home. That was only partly true. The "party" was a 4-year-old's christening. A rival gang had found out about it somehow, and had crashed it, destroying the place. The people from my neighborhood had retaliated by smashing the other gang's cars. So they came here to retaliate back.

According to the people across the street, it is a turf war, and the rival gang said they wouldn't rest till they (my neighbors) were all dead or gone. Far from leaving, my neighbors are gearing up for war. They have pulled out all of the bushes and trees in their yard, so as to have a clear view of the street, and have ramped up their gang activity. I've seen more drug deals and gang get-togethers this past week than I've seen in all the years they've been here.

In spite of all this, my husband is unconcerned. He doesn't believe (or at least he says he doesn't believe) that it will ever happen again, much less get worse. He believes we are perfectly safe, and that, if we aren't safe, we couldn't possibly be safer anywhere else in the country. He says the risk is the same, whether we're here or out in the country on a farm. I cannot agree. I believe we are risking our very lives to stay here. If the rival gang returns, and with guns, our neighbors may fire at them. If they do, their guns will be pointed right at our front windows. Any stray bullets will hit our house, at the very least, and perhaps even us. I believe we MUST move. DH says we will divorce first; an interesting remark considering our former separation. When I pointed out my concerns and asked him to allow us to move away from here, he refused, and stated again that the one who earns the money is the one who gets to make all the decisions.

At first, this was a source of great stress for me. However, God soon took me in hand, and led me in the right direction. He reminded me that I am to let my husband make the rules we are to live by. Then He told me what I am to do. Right now I am preparing my house for sale, cleaning, painting, repairing, replacing wherever necessary. Once the house is ready, I will take the boys and go to Tennessee, where my parents live. There I will work for my father to become the one who earns all the money for our family, hence "earning" the right to make all the decisions for our family. (I have more income potential there than my DH has here.) My husband will then have the decision to make just for himself. He can sell the house and move to where we are, or he can stay here. He would have to quit his job in order to make the move, but I will be supporting the family, so there will be no urgency for him to get another job. I have already found the ideal place out there, for him as well as the rest of us. I told DH about the plan, but he refuses (naturally) to help at all. I'll have to do everything myself, but I know it can and will be done. God wills it. (Yay! My promised home in Tennessee, near my parents, is nearly mine!)

Lest you think that this is me making God's promise happen, I will tell you... Of anyone I have ever known, I am the LEAST capable of accomplishing this feat of moving our family. I am the last person to want to try this on my own. I am disorganized and lazy. I am scatterbrained, easily discouraged, and timid. As I have told DH, if this goes off without a hitch, we can give all the glory to God for it, since we both know I certainly couldn't and didn't do it myself. Which, I believe, is God's intention. God is truly faithful!