Cowboy Salvation

There was an incident, or nearly and incident last night. Here's what I wrote about it in my sketchbook:

I almost fought a man tonight. He was yelling at a woman. He threw his bike at her. She screamed, and I started to run towards them while screaming "Hey!" I told him to stop. He turned and yelled and came towards me. He was very evil and blind. I backed away a little. I thought to myself, "Wow, I'm about to fight this guy... I don't know if I can beat him." I felt the fear of underwater dreams and slow-motion punches. I spoke softly, waving a verbal white flag and he lost interest in me and started after the girl again.

I looked over and noticed that another man had appeared--a cowboy. He wore a black cowboy hat, boots, and had a cigarette in his mouth. He looked badass, like a guy from a movie. The angry man walked by the cowboy and had an exchange similar to mine, except the cowboy didn't cower. At that point, I felt as if we could handle this situation together. The punk seemed to realize this as well and he retreated to his bicycle. He looked as if he was planning to go around the block and find the girl again, so the cowboy hopped in his truck and said he was going to follow the girl and make sure she gets where she needs to go. I called the police.

I was scared, but I knew I had to do something. I wish I had the sense of authority that the cowboy seemed to possess. I guess it doesn't matter though, because I'll obey God and my instincts and He'll give me what I need. I'm just a skinny kid, but I know I could do anything if God willed it. It's either David and Goliath or getting beat down, but either way, through obedience, God is glorified.