My Brother's Keeper 1/07/2020
I heard the commotion followed by a scream of anger. Recognizing the scream to be that of my brother’s, I ran to the door and watched him run towards me. Alarm spread quickly as the bright red handprint stretched out over his small face. His eyes reflected pain, as he fought desperately to hold back tears. He screamed that his bike was just stolen. As a poor family leaving five houses down from the projects, bikes were not easily replaced. So without thinking, I ran up the narrow lane to meet my brother’s attacker.
My brother, eleven years old at the time, was not a match for the half-grown man that I saw riding away. Without thinking, I screamed out with all that my voice could muster. “Coward”, I yelled angrily. “Coward”. The tall figure ceased the pumping of the pedals and turned and stopped. It never dawned on me that if he came back, I was of no use to myself. I was not street smart, nor could I give a punch, but there was no thinking in my actions. There was only a need to seek that which was stolen.
Within minutes the assailant had almost reached the spot to where I had shouted my grievances. With a menacing look, and a slur of words, the thief now transforming into attacker, jumped off the moving bike and pursued me. I saw the young man approach me in anger, and yet I fled not, I saw his hand reach for my face and without thinking, I stood still. I was not thinking anything. I was not feeling anything. I saw him draw back his fist and before I could flinch, I saw my mother step in front of me.
My mother five-foot four was an even smaller stature than myself. She on her best day, was no match for anyone let alone the impending attack that was inescapable. But my mother did not stand alone. Psalm 138:7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me. Many times, over the years I have looked back over what happened and accepted that there is no explanation. There was a moment when helplessness was reversed to strength and fear transformed to power. I don’t mean strength like football players or power that erupts from one’s dominion over the weak, but rather an action that is forged out of trepidation and isolates the darkness. It is this action that transforms a moment, changing the impossible to possible. Some call these moments miracles and I for one would have to agree. You see I was part of something that could not be explained, something that you could not smell or touch, but you knew without a doubt that God had been in control.
The next memory unfolds as police were questioning where they ran. My mother and I have no memory of the perpetrator fleeing or even how long it had been. The radios blared the confirmation that he and two others had been caught two miles up the road. We were asked to go and identify the suspects. Once identified, the true miracle was revealed. The cops informed that the assailant was a known gang leader and had been eluding police for a string of charges, including homicide. The police were baffled that not a single hair had been touched. The suspect was questioned on what happened and with fear and trembling refused to answer.
Some will say it’s a coincidence, some will say it was so horrific that our minds blocked it out, but I am here to tell you that in God there are no coincidences, and I’ve lived through many horrible things and Yet I remember ever so clearly. Do not allow the devil to criticize your miracle. Coincidences are God's way of showing us that he is in control, otherwise we would never notice. I might not be able to quote you the entire sequence of events, but I can tell you that where my memory becomes obscured with the unknown, it is because my God made himself known.
Psalm 121:7-8
The Lord will keep you from all harm-he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.