Last week, my husband took a short overnight trip, leaving me with our 90-pound German Shepherd. Fierce.
Just in case those burglars got past Benedict, I started digging through our dozens of boxes, almost frantic to find my little can of pepper spray before I bedded down for the night. As I threw belongings out of boxes, searching for the black spray can, I realized, “If someone who wants to do you harm gets as far as your bedroom, God might be more effective than pepper spray…”
I did find the spray, and it stayed by my bed, but I also considered what it meant that deep down, I felt calmer with the little metal can next to me (which I can hold, and over which I have control) than I did knowing that God was there with me, too.