Beyond Surrender

Our laughter split the quiet night as we hung tight as a family and enjoyed a hilarious video Jeff had taped while in America. Laughter lingered in our home as we hugged goodnight and headed to our rooms; laughter that was to be violently shattered. We did not know it then, but they had been watching us all day from the small, unfinished, cement block construction across the way. Eyes peering, glaring, watching. In our wildest imaginings we never thought it would happen to us. It happens to other people, in other countries, but not to us, not here and not now. In the serenity of our bedroom, Jeff rested comfortably against the pillows waiting for me. Suddenly our door burst open. "Mom, Dad, there are guys with guns out there!" Kevin and Kari frantically shouted. The icy fingers of dread squeezed my heart. Jeff bolted from the bed, grabbed his shorts and raced to the phone in the dining room. He heard unnerving sounds of voices yelling and confused commotion outside, in our compound. He drew the receiver to his ear but immediately tossed it down in frustration. The line was dead. Cut. Quickly reaching down I drew on a discarded pair of short overalls to cover my summer weight, skimpy nightwear. I knew I only had seconds. The clothing was not enough, but it was all I could do. My thoughts were racing. I yanked my engagement ring off my finger and flung it under our bed. Scared, more scared than I have ever been, I cried out, “Jesus, in your name I bind Satan.” Before I could speak another word the security of our home was explosively destroyed. With a thunderous boom and splintering crash our back door was brutally broken down. It was the most intensely horrible sound I have ever heard in my life. In seconds a hostile man in military fatigues, wielding an authoritative shotgun in his hands, stood glaring at me from our bedroom doorway.