“Safety first, Shaun.”

-Shaun of the Dead

POW! Ping. Quiet, then subtle rustling of the wind.

My tall and serious son-in-law had his gun strapped on over his tactical gear. A strong, quiet man of few words reassured with his presence despite the fact I was shaking. Not sure how I’d decided this would be a good idea.

After signing off on details I didn’t want to know—but am sure said something about if I get shot or killed or bleed out it is no one’s fault but my own—we’d picked an open range spot so that this deputy of the year could teach me how to shoot my hand gun.

Any other day and I’d have been enamored by the amazing blue skies, light breeze and almost fall feel. Instead I was straining to focus on what he was telling me through my hot pink ear muffs.

Before he and my husband patiently showed me the way to load a magazine and the steps for loading the gun, he brought out a small, black bag and opened it. It didn’t look like a weapon or ammunition. He pulled out a folded over strap and staring at me unflinchingly said, “This is a tourniquet.” I stared back as my brain started racing. Why is he showing me a tourniquet? What am I doing here? I could only think of all the reasons that I was certain disqualified me from getting this information. I am a mom, for crying out loud.

He flipped through the bag and continued speaking in a quiet, firm tone. He explained where and how it should be applied. Then he pulled out what looked like a silver pouch and told me if one of us was shot in the chest, this could be applied to the wound to stop the bleeding.

Head down, filing through supplies, he announced he also had gauze and other bandage supplies while my chest felt heavy as I imagined a gaping hole.

I stammered out something about did he think one of us was going to get shot. He told me it happens often and we just need to be prepared. My husband chimed in that we had to be safe. By the time I was ready to pull the trigger, I could see my hand shaking and hear the heavy thud of my own heartbeat inside my ear muffs. I realized I could cry but I willed myself to not melt.

This is life and death and I had chosen to participate.

Thankfully our adventure at the range did not involve tourniquets, bandages or any near misses. Climbing into bed later in the day, my brain rolled back over all details. They’d told me that the reason I missed the target my second try (after hitting it on the first) was that I was having to battle my own mind. My brain now was aware that an explosion was going off in my hands and it was anticipating what was coming which was causing me to flinch. My brain was fighting my body on setting off an explosion in my hand, seems like a sound design. I thought of all the ways we battle our own minds, the things we know are coming and how are minds open up or shut down depending on the perceived outcome.

Talking it through again with my husband, we said it was so good that we were prepared and took all the precautions we could. My son in law was sharing life-giving, life-preserving information. While I had worried and mildly panicked and fidgeted around, he had made sure that we would be prepared if our lives were actually in danger.

It is a thin line. Instances like these fine tune your focus and remind you of this truth.

We as believers have our own small, black bag with the living-saving tools of the gospel of our Savior, Jesus Christ. We are in a world where the danger is all too real and an unintended wrong move could see our life drained away. Out of awkwardness or even somehow embarrassment, I wondered about how many times I have missed or ignored the critically important sharing of the gospel. These were battles of the mind and I’d let the fear win out.

Everywhere we look someone is going about their life unaware of God’s lifesaving provision for us.

There are people trying to find out how to make their way, how to use the tools they have been given. They are shaking and looking around wondering if they are supposed to be here and what they should do next. They think they have reasons to be disqualified or exempted from life and the inevitably painful mistakes that come from just living it day in and day out.

God is giving me, giving all of us, the opportunity to confidently and calmly tell them we have what will save your life in the end. There is a way this is supposed to work. There is a way to more than just survive.

We are all participating in this life and death adventure whether we are fully aware of the consequences. We need to be properly equipped.

We all need to know how to handle the hole in our chest.