Burgled? Thefted? Larcenied? Violated?
I’m not certain what term to use when I find my car window smashed and the contents of the glove box and console rifled and strewn about the car.
But that is exactly what happened to me this morning.
I glance at the car every morning to be certain it’s still there. This morning, as I sat reading the New York Times on the front porch, sipping my coffee, I noticed that the car window appeared to be broken.
So the police have come and gone. I’m waiting for an evidence technician right now. I’ve called the insurance company, the bank to stop the checks that were taken, and the car rental place. Enterprise doesn’t deliver any longer – this I now know.
My frustration this morning, and my slight feeling of violation, is compounded a bit by the fact that I have an out-of-town consultant staying my home this weekend as the Gateway Men’s Chorus undertakes a long-term check-up. I’m missing the morning session with her as I deal with this little matter.
This could be worse, though. The car could have been stolen. The house could have been burgled. My dog could have been dog-jacked. As it is now, nothing of value, save for a few blank checks, was in the car. The window is replaceable, although I hadn’t budgeted this summer for a $500 deductible.
The garage is so inconvenient that I don’t use the garage much. I’m going to now.
God of all things, thank you for this little bump that increases my faith.