Mugged

So here's something I never thought I would be writing about. . . . "What do you do when someone tries to mug you?"  I remember being in high school and going to a special assembly for girls called "Looking Forward To Being Attacked".  In fact, I still have the workbook by that same name that they gave out sitting on my bookshelf.  The big thing the workshop emphasized was being aware of your surroundings and other people, and not giving off the aura or attitude of a victim.  Being the overly cautious type of person that I am, I believe I have always taken that to heart.  My girls always complained that I walked too fast when we were shopping. . . . . . and I always told them that it was because I walked "with purpose" (which is supposed to make you less of a victim).  I do have to say I think my walking speed has slowed a little in the last few years.

Well, yesterday, none of that being aware or walking with purpose made any difference.  I experienced what it was like to be a potential victim.  Potential is the key word here because I'm telling you right up front that the guy did NOT get my purse!

Woody and I were down in Southern California visiting my mom.  We had gone out to breakfast and then decided we would do a little shopping before leaving to come back to Nevada.  Mom and I decided to go to Hobby Lobby because I needed to pick up some supplies to build a set for a children's musical that starts next week.  Woody wasn't too keen on walking around in Hobby Lobby, so we dropped him off at the mall to check out the sporting goods stores while we did our crafting business.

Mom and I finished our shopping and were walking through the parking lot to our car.  Mom was pushing the shopping cart and I was walking to her left with my purse on my left shoulder.  All of a sudden I heard someone running behind me, and a guy bumped into me on my left, grabbing my purse as he ran by.  I yelled and hung on.  We spent a few seconds (that seemed like much longer) face to face in a tug of war over my purse.  The guy then gave a hard jerk to the side, flipping me off my feet and on to the pavement.  I still hung on tight.  He proceeded to drag me across the pavement, both of us hanging on to my purse.  The guy never said a word, and I just kept yelling at him to stop, and to LET GO OF MY PURSE!

It is strange to consider all the things that run quickly through your mind in just a few seconds.  I did think of just letting go. . . . . but then I thought of all the hassle it would be to cancel all our accounts. . . . .and I had just renewed my driver's license. . . . .and my car keys. . . . and my day planner with some important information. . . . .and Sara's coin purse with her driver's license and medical cards (that I have just kept in my purse ever since her cancer returned and I carried those things for her). .. . . . . and I thought. . . . "NO, I am NOT letting him have my purse!"  Then I thought, "I hope he doesn't have a gun.  If he takes out a gun, maybe I will let go."  Then while he was dragging me across the pavement, I thought, "This is what those cowboys in the movies feel like when they are dragged on a rope behind their horse.  I don't know how long I can do this."  (Random thought I know!)

Then all of a sudden the guy just let go and ran away.  He jumped into a waiting car and away they went.  I looked up to see my mom standing by me holding her purse over her head.  She was getting ready to try to hit him in the head with it.  (I'm not really sure how much good that would have done. . . .but I could tell she was MAD!)   I got up, brushed myself off, assured my mom that I was okay, and we got in the car to go pick up Woody at the mall.  I think the whole thing was probably harder on my mom to have to watch, and on Woody for wishing he had been there, than it was for me.

My mom and I both agreed that our first emotion was anger at the guy for being such a jerk.  Then  I was kind of proud of myself for not letting go and letting him win.  The fear came after it was all over.  The more I think about it, the more grateful I become.  It was a horrible experience, but God sure took care of us.  I am so thankful the guy didn't go after my mom.  I'm thankful he didn't have a gun or a knife.  I'm thankful he didn't punch me in the face or beat me up.  And. . . . I'm thankful he was unsuccessful in getting my purse.  At this point, I can even say I am kind of thankful for the warning . . . . . that no matter how careful you are, or how much you feel like you are in control of the situation. . . . you aren't.

I will continue to be cautious and be aware (more than ever after this).  I will continue to pray for God's direction and God's protection, for myself and my loved ones.  And I will continue to try to trust Him and be thankful in every situation.

A little bit of advice for all you girls and women. . . . .Be aware, consider how you carry your purse, and consider what you carry in your purse.  I know I will!