Hearing a noise behind me in the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror, confused as to who on earth could be there. This was clearly a distinctly Kenyan man’s voice, saying “Mum, mum…” Sure enough, there was a man’s face reflected in the mirror, nobody I knew! As I turned, about to interrogate the man as to who he was and why he was in my bathroom doorway, I noticed the gun in his hand pointed at me and my blood froze. I could no longer understand what he was saying because my mind was frantically trying to process the scene, which didn’t make any sense. Who was this? Why did he have a gun pointed at me? How on earth did he manage to get in and we not hear it? As these and many other questions chased each other through my mind, another corner of my brain registered that this was a dangerous situation and I had better listen to what he was saying, lest he think I was resisting and be tempted to pull the trigger. I finally registered that he was commanding me to join the others in the office down the hall. I arrived to find the whole family sitting on the office floor in a circle – Chip, 17 year old Joshua, 14 year old Sam, and 10 year old Amanda.
As I joined them one thing kept running through my head… “We need to pray!” I murmured this to Chip, as I sat in the circle and he agreed. As the ‘guard’ with the gun (2-3 of the 5-man gang had guns) began making demands, Chip quietly announced “We’re going to pray first”. I did not think this unreasonable at the time and in the circumstances, but the robber obviously was not pleased and began shouting. Chip quietly insisted that we needed to do this, and it would not take long. Finally, the thief said “OK” sullenly, bowed his head and clasped his hands in front of him, while Chip prayed for God to protect us and to be in charge of the situation. It still did not strike me as odd until some time later when reflecting on the incident.
There were all kinds of things we (mostly Chip) said and did that normally would have gotten us in a great amount of trouble with this gang under normal circumstances. But I am convinced that God was definitely in charge, not the thieves. First, there was the grudging agreement to pray. After the ‘amen’, they prodded Chip up to take them into the bedroom, where others were already ransacking it. They wanted Chip to show them where we had the money. One thug demanded money from Chip’s wallet. As he started to take it from his pocket, the robber, too impatient, started to stick his hand in Chip’s pocket and Chip slapped his hand away, saying “You said to give you my money. You can have the money, but you can’t have my wallet!” The thief actually waited for Chip to remove the bills and hand them to him. The whole time this gang was ransacking the house, packing items into backpacks, there was a guard standing watch over us with a gun. The apparent leader of the group kept coming in and out of the office. He seemed high on something or just very, very nervous. He kept wrapping a towel around his gun and pointing it at us, shouting this and that, giving contradictory commands and warning our teenaged boys not to try to be heroes. Then he would look disgusted, unwrap the gun and leave again. We thought sure they would shoot us, trying to muffle the sound of the gunshot with the towels. But they never touched us, other than occasionally shoving Chip if they felt he was not moving fast enough. Finally, they demanded the key to the car. Again, they started to impatiently grab his set of keys and Chip pulled them back, saying “You asked for the car key. You cannot have the house keys or my work keys!” They waited while he took the key off the ring and handed it over, then ran out to the parking bay. A little while later, someone ran partway up the stairs, threw the key at us and disgustedly said “We can’t take that car!” (it was a bright, lime green and everyone in Nairobi knew it was the Kingsburys’ car). In the end, after a terrifying 45 minutes, they marched all 5 of us into a closet sized toilet room in the hallway, locked the door and took the key. We waited at least another 40 minutes before we felt safe enough to try to contact our neighbors to try to get us out (no cell phones in those days).
That was the most terrifying moment in my life, but in looking back, we could see the hand of God protecting us. They never harmed us in any way, physically, though we were all traumatized for some time. The things Chip said and did would normally have surely gotten him killed, but they always backed off. I, myself, would normally have panicked and probably screamed or gotten hysterical, possibly triggering panic in the thieves, which could have ended tragically. But while terrified, I somehow managed to remain calm. Amanda, who had a seizure disorder and tended to have seizures when traumatized, was very quiet and calm. The boys did nothing to antagonize the thieves, though they may have been sorely tempted, as their faces registered their anger. We were all badly shaken, but not harmed. The thieves made off with several small items and cash, but because they had to carry their loot in small backpacks, did not get anything very valuable (like TV, computer, etc.) because they could not take that bright neon car as the getaway vehicle. They didn’t even get all the money. They got all our personal funds, but not any of the ministry funds entrusted in my care. God surely took care of us, and I’m convinced it all went back to the conviction I had that we should pray, at the start of our ordeal.
People may wonder why a loving God would allow His people to go through such terrifying ordeals or through loss of loved ones, or devastating financial losses, or a dreaded, wasting disease. I’m afraid I have no answers to these questions, but I am convinced of God’s loving care over his people. We live in a fallen world, a world that is full of violence, sin, and death. I can’t expect to be exempt from the tragedies that befall us all. I don’t live in a bubble just because I love and follow God. All I can do is trust that He knows what is best, that He will care for me, whatever happens, and that maybe one day I may understand. Meanwhile, I’ll still pray when in trouble.
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