I was awakened this morning at 4:14 to the sound of gunshots...I thought. I sat up and tried to figure out if I was dreaming or if it was real. I realized that Craig was not in bed; he had gone running. Then next thing I knew, my door opened and Tara was standing there asking if I had heard the noise. We sat there for a minute staring at each other, then I decided to call 911. After reporting what we had heard, I started worrying about Craig. The funny thing is, I don't worry much about him when he's at work. I know he's careful and always on guard. But my mind started picturing him all alone, running, with no protection...and I panicked. Tara tried to call him on his cell phone, but it started buzzing on the bathroom counter, so I knew he didn't have it with him. I finally sent Tara back to bed and I sat on the edge of the bed for the next 45 minutes hoping and praying that Craig would come home. When the front door opened at about 5:00, I burst into tears and thanked my Heavenly Father for bringing him home safely. Craig was sorry he worried me, but he had to laugh as he told me that he was running right by the
TRUCK that had
BACKFIRED! It scared him so bad that he ran into a light pole and tripped. We were both relieved that it was just a truck, but I told him he better take his phone from now on! I learned from this experience that I need to trust in the Holy Ghost more. The whole time, I didn't get the feeling that things were really bad, but I let my imagination get the best of me. Funny how we are taught the lessons we need to learn.
