March 31, 2016 8:08 AM
I predict that one day you’ll read a post on this blog from my brother that goes something like this:
Well, they finally did it. They gunned my little brother down.
I had just stepped out of my van—smiling—when the cop shouted at me, “Sir! Stop right there and put your hands on your head!”
Maybe not his exact words, but it was a little hard to hear him with the helicopter circling so low and close.
I was camped out in the desert in this spot I favor, a spot which on the positive side has lots of privacy but on the negative side has no witnesses either.
He told me to turn around and spread my legs and he patted me down just as two more police cars roared up in a cloud of dust and I found myself surrounded by six armed and anxious men.
I’d like to say this was my first encounter with men with guns who didn’t like what I was doing—armed men who were stressed or frightened or angry and who could kill me with a single squeeze of their index fingers. I’d like to say it, but it wouldn’t be true (here, here, and here).
Still, I welcome these opportunities as they are (still) fairly rare, so I did a quick internal check to see how I was reacting. I felt quite calm, no fear or nervousness, so I chalked that up as a passing grade. The threat of imminent death is a wonderful test of one’s spiritual development. Anyone can think they don’t fear death, but it’s a little tough to actually test. I wonder why the pseudo-savior teachers don’t blog about this stuff?
Anyway, I told them I’ve got nothing to hide and to feel free to search my van and one of the officers, a younger guy in jeans who seemed to be in charge, flashed his badge which I thought said “FBI” and poked around in the van and said they were looking for a kidnapped girl, a girl who was abducted by some guy in a white van—a high-topped van, a van that looked a lot like mine.
He thanked me and apologized for the drama and I told him of a couple of other white vans I’d seen as I’d pulled in and he said they’d check them out and they got in their cars and roared off.
As night fell, I thought about a little girl who may be nearby, maybe alone in the desert, and I thought of the other obvious scenario of an armed and dangerous desperado hiding out in the desert in need of a new vehicle, and knowing how dark the desert is at night I turned on every light I had to let them know that I was a solution to their problem.
A light in the dark of the desert to act as a beacon for a desperate girl in need of safety—or a desperate man who I’d rather come to me than some other innocent camper.
From sunset until 11pm I kept the lights on and bright—I kept the beacon blazing in the darkness of the desert. Each moment I made the conscious decision that I counted less than anyone else on the planet. Isn’t that what capital-L Love is?
Why don’t the other spiritual teachers talk about this stuff? Surely She tests them as well.
Though I searched the news, I didn’t find any story on the kidnapping.
I hope the girl is alright.
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