The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

I thought she was dead.
The masked gunman had her pushed up against the wall, with the gun aimed at her head.The gun went off and she dropped to the ground.

While sitting in the back of our car, Duncan described an attack by two masked men on him and his travel companions the last day of their five week backpacking trip.

College kids adventuring in Peru.
One was my kid.
My kid was still in Peru.

My kid was the one on the ground.

One young man and three girls had two hours left before leaving this beautiful country decorated with lush jungles, deserts, glaciers, and beaches. A mixture of everything.

They had just gone to the grocery store with their Peruvian friend, Diego, so they could whip up a final meal together.

Getting out of the car, arms filled with groceries and last minute souvenirs two men charged them. The men’s hands holding guns. Guns cocked and ready to fire.

Confusion filled the moment.

Was this a prank?

No, no, no! Diego knew it wasn’t. He took off running. Understanding his car was the prize.

Not understanding, Kendra and Danae, ran after them.

The confusion was no more when they saw the men, the beating, the pistol whipping, and the guns.

Hey! Stop it! Leave him alone.

Now they were the next target.

Car keys in one hand and a gun in the other the men went for their next victims. Confiscating wallets, iPhones, credit cards. Whatever could be quickly snatched.

Time was the enemy’s enemy.

Anyone slowing them down was an obstacle that must be dealt with.
My daughter, frozen with fear, was too slow for them. Pushing, grabbing and shaking.
The cord attached to her bag was strong. The masked man stronger.
Adrenaline filled he pulled the cord, tossing her to the ground while shooting his gun.
She dropped.
Head ringing, pounding. Sound silenced.

I’m shot…
Did he shoot off my ear?

Danae, standing near the attacker, Ken, Get up. Get up. Hurry.

Kendra looked up and saw the gun pointed at her, his angry eyes glaring through the slits in the mask.
Please…no…
Kendra had fallen near the object of the attack. The car.
The gunmen couldn’t get in. Couldn’t escape.

Kendra dazed, Will he shoot me again?

A familiar voice broke through. Get up!

Danae knelt down and pulled her arm.
They ran-off into the safety of a Peruvian home. The other two, Duncan and Rain, did the same.

The community, now fully aware an attack in their hood was taking place, stepped in to help.
One young man flung piece of metal at the car windshield. Unable to see, the robbers crashed the car, got out, shot again, and ran.

And God was there.

God protected the 5 young people from serious injury.
Miracle of miracles Kendra was not shot.
God provided people to help; people to provide safety, compassion, funds.
Kendra’s passport was among her stolen items.

No passport, no money, no leaving Peru.

A man in-line behind her at the US embassy gave her $140.00 U.S. dollars.
What’s your name?
Israel……..

The man’s name let Kendra know God was with her.

My family and friends prayed for God’s protection, provision, and for people to step up and help.
Diego, stitched up, stepped in to navigate the Peruvian bureaucracy.
Kendra’s two girlfriends stayed behind, missing their flight, so she wouldn’t be alone.
It only took one day to accomplish what should have taken at least two. God speed.

Kendra’s home.

Praise you, Lord.
She’s reliving the wonderful moments of her trip.
Beautiful country. Beautiful people.
And a big and beautiful God.

Thank you, Jesus.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed,
for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10

This blog post is dedicated to Kendra, Danae, Rain, Diego (and family), Duncan, and the Peruvian community. Thank you for the courage you showed and for loving each other so much you were able to push past fear and do the best and right things at the right moment. Your acts of unselfishness were bold and beautiful. Many thanks to Delta airlines for making a difficult and stress-filled situation easier. Your swift cooperation, compassion, and hassle-free and cost-free ticket adjustments were so appreciated. To Matt at the US Embassy, thank-you for your kindness to Kendra and for your patience when speaking with two highly concerned parents. And to Israel, the retired GI, we are grateful for your generosity. May the Lord bless each of you.

 

Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the Lord your God goes with you;
he will never leave you nor forsake you.
Deuteronomy 31:6

headshot 2016 stairsLori Wildenberg, co-founder of 1 Corinthians 13 Parenting and co-author of 3 parenting books including  Raising Big Kids with Supernatural Love and Raising Little Kids with Big Love.

 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Lori Wildenberg

Lori  Wildenberg, is passionate about helping families build connections that last a lifetime. She meets parents where they are with her warmth, transparency, humor, and straight-forward, faith-filled approach. Lori is an author, licensed parent-family educator, co-founder of 1 Corinthians 13 Parenting ministry, lead mentor mom with the Moms Together Facebook Community, national speaker, and parent coach. Her 5th parenting book Messy Parenting: Powerful and Practical Ways to Strengthen Family Connections (New Hope Publishers) will be released in August 2018 and is available for preorder over at Amazon. The Wildenberg home is nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A perfect day in Lori’s world is a hike with her Tom (her hubby), five kids (four plus a daughter-in-love), and Murphy– the family labradoodle! For more information or to connect with Lori go to www.loriwildenberg.com 

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading

God Holds You As You Hold Everyone Else

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding toddler daughter on her hip, standing outside

She stands in the kitchen, hands trembling over the sink, tears she cannot let fall pressing behind her eyes. The world outside her window is quiet, but inside her heart there is a storm she cannot name. She is hurting, not because she does not love her life, but because somewhere along the way she forgot how to breathe inside it. Yet even in her pain, little voices call her name. Tiny hands tug at her shirt. Lunchboxes need packing, homework needs checking, hearts need holding. And so she wipes her face, forces a smile, and whispers a quiet prayer:...

Keep Reading

Yes, I Know Fear—but I Also Know Faith

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hands in hospital bed

The night my daughter woke up screaming at 3 a.m., I knew something was wrong. Her cry wasn’t the half-asleep whimper of a bad dream. Instead, it was pain—raw and sharp. Within an hour, we were rushing to the emergency room, the world outside our headlights still wrapped in darkness. Tests, scans, questions, and then the words no parent ever wants to hear: “We’re transferring her to another hospital by ambulance. She needs surgery right away.” They said “torsion.” They said “tumor.” They said “appendix.” I nodded, because that’s what mothers do. We stay steady, even when our hearts are...

Keep Reading

10 Years after My Mother’s Death, Her Faith Still Guides Me

In: Faith, Grief
Woman praying

Growing up, I was a reluctant Catholic. My mother would drag us to church, and I’d go through the motions—fingers moving across rosary beads without really feeling the prayers. But she never stopped. Sunday Mass, daily prayers, devotions to the Blessed Mother. She was relentless in her faith, not because she was trying to force it on us, but because she genuinely believed we would need it someday. She was right. My mother died of stage 4 colon cancer in 2012. My brother and I watched her suffer, saw how her body betrayed her, watched as treatments failed. And here’s...

Keep Reading

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In: Faith
Mother holding hand of young child, silhouette

“But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not triumph over me.” – Jeremiah 20:11 God, thank You for making sure my son is okay. Thank You for this just being paranoia. I believe in You. I believe in Your control. I believe. I believe. I believe. These words streamed through my head as my husband drove us downtown to visit our first specialist with our 4-month-old son, Maximus. Our pediatrician had written me off, but I could not ignore the feeling in my bones that something was wrong. Tiny, hard bumps...

Keep Reading

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

In: Faith, Living
Woman holding casserole

It all started with tomatoes. After we moved, a neighbor invited us to pick from the abundance in her and her husband’s gardens. In return for a pile of tomatoes gathered from their raised beds, I left a plastic bag of homegrown pumpkins on their porch. Later that summer, our neighbor stopped by with a recycled container full of still more fruits. By the fall, we were sharing chili and cookies over dinner at our place. Threads of indebtedness were weaving us together. For most of my life, the idea of indebtedness has tasted rather repulsive on my tongue. The...

Keep Reading