At what cost?

On Wednesday I was feeling like this:


And I wrote this in my journal:
The fl yer campaign is in full swing. I have several friends and neighbors ready to begin plastering every street post, every sign, and every community bulletin board with my "Wanted-The Name of a Ridgetop Thief" posters. I really don't know if it will net me a name but I don't think that is the point anymore. I just want to stand up and says, "NOT OK". I want to stand up and and say, "WE WONT TAKE IT ANYMORE". I want to stand up and say, "MY COMMUNITY IS MY SECURITY SYSTEM". And I think that there are a lot of people who need it too. I have gotten e-mails from other home owners in the area, good families that were victimized in one way or another, who also want to stand up but haven't known how. One guy had his car broken into and they took his wedding album. Who takes a wedding album?
If the only thing that comes from this is that we all feel a little more bonded as a community and empowered in our personal lives then it will be worth it. If the only thing that comes from this is to have it noted that we stood up, then it will be worth it.

And then the phone rang, and I felt this....

And I wrote this in my journal...

It isn't worth it.

I got an automated recording from Caden's school that he was absent. I walked him to the steps of the school and watched him climb them but didn't watch him go inside or even enter his class room. It was drizzling and I had the baby in my arms in jammies so I rushed off to get the girls home and Ella to preschool. I just kept thinking, what if something happened to him because of something I did? What if I made my family a target. What if FOMT was trying to send me a message? What if he was more evil then petty thug? The torment of those five minutes are not worth any thing. In the end they found him in the class room's reading nook. It was library day and he wanted a few more minuets with the book he had to return so when he saw that he had a substitute he hid himself away under a bean bag chair.

What am I doing? I keep thinking that I am trying to find the lesson, the silver lining, the growth from this experience, and if it isn't to find strength then I'm coming up blank. This can't just all be for nothing, can it? Jon doesn't get what a big deal this is to me, not really. I am suffering all the obvious pains of losing my business base, my family photos, my art, but there it is so much more. I grew up in a home that was never locked. We lived in Tacoma, yet still felt safe enough to have an open door policy. I wanted that for my family. I just always assumed that it was a given that we would raise our kids in an environment of security, an environment where locks and alarms are for other homes. On any given day of the week I come home to find an empty car in the driveway and a friend or family member in the kitchen. I love that my people feel connected and comfortable in my home. I love that they enjoy being here. I love that they feel safe here. I love that they feel accepted and welcomed here. Our home has been home to all just like the home that I grew up in. That is changed now. Our doors are now locked and the front window will soon boast an ADT sign. That is the home I live in now. That is the home that my kids will be raised in. One where everyone is locked out and the inhabitants only feel safe when locked in.

So I cancelled our catch a thief poster party, gathered my children to me, and silently apologized for not being strong enough to create the world I wanted for them.