Thanks, dear ones, for your well wishes and prayers as I and hubby have dealt with trouble from a stranger. I certainly have needed your prayers and am thankful for them and for your care. A couple of days before Thanksgiving (how was your holiday, beloved?) we'd received an odd phone call from her. The next morning I got three phone calls from her, asking me to take her to the hospital or to give her cab money to go to the hospital. I basically told her I couldn't help her. We didn't hear from her the next day. The day after that was Thanksgiving. No phone call from her. No phone call from her on Friday. Then Saturday night, as I was out at the store, standing in the checkout line, I got a call from hubby telling me she had called. She needed to go to the hospital, she had told hubby, and wanted to know if we could take her. We'd agreed we would call 911 (and leave the phone off the hook) if she ever came again. You'll remember that the police stood us up on three separate times when dealing with this girl. My brother is a juvenile court magistrate and advised us how to deal with her (and with the police) since we have found ourselves in this crazy and odd situation.
So, when hubby called me on my cell, I didn't want him to let her in, but it was the only way we could detain her till the cops came. I couldn't get home fast enough. I was livid. Just the thought of her made me feel like less than a nice little Christian girl; I'm ashamed to say that, but it's true. She had exploited my kindness, and I resented her for that. But this is where the rubber meets the road in our faith walk. This is where we get the chance to love our enemies. Only sweet little Michele didn't really even have any enemies. Until today.
I get home, and there she is sitting on my couch. I said, "Hi" but didn't pretend to fake the funk. There was no real compassion left on my part any more. I knew she was a con job. I got home and hubby and I played tag team. He held her there, asking that she "give him a minute" to finish up what he was doing, then he could take her to the hospital. I sneaked into the kitchen, called 911, left the phone off the hook, and the police arrived shortly thereafter. I couldn't tell them my story quickly enough. Her story changed the moment that officer stepped into our living room. Her name changed. Her whole story changed. I asked her why she lied and told me her name was this, when she told the cops her name was that. She couldn't even look us in the eye, but it was clear she was not happy with us. The cops took her -- where, I'm not sure. Her story was so shifty and had so many holes in it, I'm not sure if the girl is homeless, an orphan or if she told us nothing but lies from the beginning. My brother says to be careful, as she may try to retaliate; both hubby and I are aware of that possibility. Please pray for us, and for this young girl (who is actually 16 years old).
In the meantime, as busy as my year has been, I managed to finish two books (please see sidebar). Hubby says I should take a whole year to write the next book, and that doesn't sound like a bad idea; my plate feels really full, and another opportunity just opened up for us. More on that later that if we decide to accept the opportunity (and no, we are not adopting another child.. oh wait. Never say never, right?).