30 Days of Thankful- Day #17-25
Sunday, November 17th, I sat down about 7:00 am in my favorite chair with a laptop in my lap, a Spark in my hand and my brain full of what I would type for what I was thankful for. I had been wanting to talk about how much I love mornings. It is my quiet time and I love getting to read my Bible and morning devotion and just meditate and talk with God.
But, as I sat with every intention of typing that out, I didn't. Instead I decided to go ahead and read my Bible, Sunday School lesson and devotion and type my blog later. After all, it was a Sunday, which means naps for everyone so I would get a bonus quiet time.
Not this Sunday.
Church ended about the same time as always and today we were having a "baby" shower for a couple that is adopting a beautiful 2 year old from China. Excitement is high at our church because this journey they have been on is coming to a dramatic end as they prepare to travel next month to pick up their daughter. We had a great time until Caleb decided to start playing the "he hit me first" game so Curt brought Caleb over to the house for a much needed nap.
I stayed for a few more minutes before deciding to come check on how things were going at the house. I stepped out of Harvest Hall into 50 mph, face blasting winds. Running to the house sounded like a much better idea, even if the temps had reached 75 degrees and the sun was blazing in a clear blue sky.
The moment I stepped in the door, the roaring sound of the wind died down and was replaced by the silence of a home with a child sleeping. I could hear Curt in the bedroom talking on the phone, which is quite normal on a Sunday afternoon.
I walked into the kitchen and saw my phone lying on the counter. It was indicating that I had missed a call and had a text so, I checked it. No big deal.
Wrong. BIG DEAL. Very, Very, Very, Very big deal.
I had missed calls from Mike, Matt and Sandy Ehrat. Multiple calls. New text messages that made no sense; "We're safe" "Don't meet us in Springfield, it isn't safe to leave yet" "Do you know if Curt's parents are ok?" WHAT?!?!?!?!?!
Curt comes out of the bedroom frantically talking on the phone, also talking in code. "Mom and Dad are fine, Grandma is hurt. What about your family?"
I am getting ready to yell at him for not making any sense when my phone starts going off again and it is my mother.
And finally someone was speaking so that I understood what was going on.
There had been a tornado. Through Washington. Sandy was on her way to work in her classroom and got to Washington just minutes after the tornado ravaged the subdivision behind the school.
Our world had just changed.
There have been so many moments of thankfulness throughout the last week. A few that are obvious to all; a house, clothing, electricity, phones, family, friends but a few that surprised me.
We went home, to our hometown, where our lives have been centered for just under 40 years. The devastation is massive. Friends have lost every physical possession they have ever owned and have clung to the love of other friends, families and strangers. Watching my hometown rise up from the destruction has been pride inducing and tear producing.
But that story is a common theme throughout the testimonies of those in and from Washington. There isn't much unique in it, but I do want to share a story that makes this time of thankfulness unique for me.
During the week we helped out at Curt's grandmother's (Grandma Bacon) house and others close by. There were some days that the city was shut down (for debris removal) so there wasn't much to do except hang out at my grandparents' home. My grandparents also live in Washington, but their home was not in an area touched by the tornado and so, our family of 6 descended upon them like vultures. You can imagine how chaotic it became in their home and so we tried to find things to do away from the house to help my grandparents keep their sanity.
One of these afternoons my mom took me shopping. We spent a good hour looking for a pair of jeans. I hate shopping and jean shopping tends to be the worst. For whatever reason, jeans never fit the same brand to brand, size to size, etc. and so I dread going out and looking. After what seemed an eternity, I had finally found a pair that fit well, looked great and made me feel pretty good about myself. Whew! It only took an hour and a half, but I was the owner of a new pair of jeans.
We went back, changed into work clothes, and started working in the yard at Grandma Bacon's house before darkness would fall and curfew set in.
The amount of debris in her yard seemed so overwhelming. I could spend an hour in a 3'x3' area and feel as if I moved a mountain when in fact, nothing looked any different. We were so careful to go through every piece of debris, just in case there was a treasure attached to it. There could be a picture, report card, letter, or drawing stuck in the midst of anything we were dragging to the curb and we didn't want to miss any of it. There were towels, living room carpets, coat hooks, electrical wiring, door hinges, pvc pipe, roofing, glass, glass and more glass.
We found National Geographic books, textbooks, Bible studies, and journals, all water logged and torn apart. And pictures. Those made me cry.
What surprised me the most, was how emotional I was when I came upon this:
It wasn't the pictures, the room decorations, or the empty backpack that caused me to have a small break down. It was a pair of capri jeans and a t shirt. I knew in that moment, somewhere, there were two people that had gone shopping looking for just the right clothes. Maybe they had searched for hours for a pair of jeans that fit just right. Maybe they saw them on the clearance rack and got excited and bought them with glee. Maybe they had gone with their daughter, mother, sister, or best friend and made a memory on that shopping trip. They had put those pants on, looked in the mirror and thought how good they looked in them.
And now, they were nothing more than a torn pair of debris, in the middle of a yard, bound for the land fill.
Yes, I know these are just material things. Yes, I know there are much more important things in life. Yes, I know that life is more important than possessions, but for me, this was the moment that brought home exactly what a tornado does. It tears away from us what we think is security. It tears away the safety we have in our belongings. It rips off our outer shell and leaves us naked, exposed and vulnerable.
And we have to choose how to get dressed back up. Some will choose to do so through their own will and strength. Some will rely on family, friends, neighbors and strangers. Some won't. This will be their final stand and they will allow defeat to overcome. Few will find the true source:
"but those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31
My prayer for those that have been affected by this disaster, whether directly or indirectly, is to find the source of everlasting strength. That they will find the Rock upon which to rebuild their homes. I pray they will find hope in Christ Jesus and that even though their security and safety here on earth may be compromised by nature or fellow humans, their eternal security will be found in a God that loved them so much that He sent His son to die for them.
My prayer is salvation.
Will you join me?
Random pictures:
Curt's grandmother's house. She was on the edge of the tornado's path. We believe that as she sat in her chair in front of the window, she was struck by debris. No one knows for sure because the hit to her head caused her to forget everything from the time her garage doors were rattling to when she woke up in the hospital.
This was taken after 3 days of clean up in Devonshire.
Grandma Bacon's puzzle room. The wall to the left became a black wall of mud and insulation after the tornado.
But, as I sat with every intention of typing that out, I didn't. Instead I decided to go ahead and read my Bible, Sunday School lesson and devotion and type my blog later. After all, it was a Sunday, which means naps for everyone so I would get a bonus quiet time.
Not this Sunday.
Church ended about the same time as always and today we were having a "baby" shower for a couple that is adopting a beautiful 2 year old from China. Excitement is high at our church because this journey they have been on is coming to a dramatic end as they prepare to travel next month to pick up their daughter. We had a great time until Caleb decided to start playing the "he hit me first" game so Curt brought Caleb over to the house for a much needed nap.
I stayed for a few more minutes before deciding to come check on how things were going at the house. I stepped out of Harvest Hall into 50 mph, face blasting winds. Running to the house sounded like a much better idea, even if the temps had reached 75 degrees and the sun was blazing in a clear blue sky.
The moment I stepped in the door, the roaring sound of the wind died down and was replaced by the silence of a home with a child sleeping. I could hear Curt in the bedroom talking on the phone, which is quite normal on a Sunday afternoon.
I walked into the kitchen and saw my phone lying on the counter. It was indicating that I had missed a call and had a text so, I checked it. No big deal.
Wrong. BIG DEAL. Very, Very, Very, Very big deal.
I had missed calls from Mike, Matt and Sandy Ehrat. Multiple calls. New text messages that made no sense; "We're safe" "Don't meet us in Springfield, it isn't safe to leave yet" "Do you know if Curt's parents are ok?" WHAT?!?!?!?!?!
Curt comes out of the bedroom frantically talking on the phone, also talking in code. "Mom and Dad are fine, Grandma is hurt. What about your family?"
I am getting ready to yell at him for not making any sense when my phone starts going off again and it is my mother.
And finally someone was speaking so that I understood what was going on.
There had been a tornado. Through Washington. Sandy was on her way to work in her classroom and got to Washington just minutes after the tornado ravaged the subdivision behind the school.
Our world had just changed.
There have been so many moments of thankfulness throughout the last week. A few that are obvious to all; a house, clothing, electricity, phones, family, friends but a few that surprised me.
We went home, to our hometown, where our lives have been centered for just under 40 years. The devastation is massive. Friends have lost every physical possession they have ever owned and have clung to the love of other friends, families and strangers. Watching my hometown rise up from the destruction has been pride inducing and tear producing.
But that story is a common theme throughout the testimonies of those in and from Washington. There isn't much unique in it, but I do want to share a story that makes this time of thankfulness unique for me.
During the week we helped out at Curt's grandmother's (Grandma Bacon) house and others close by. There were some days that the city was shut down (for debris removal) so there wasn't much to do except hang out at my grandparents' home. My grandparents also live in Washington, but their home was not in an area touched by the tornado and so, our family of 6 descended upon them like vultures. You can imagine how chaotic it became in their home and so we tried to find things to do away from the house to help my grandparents keep their sanity.
One of these afternoons my mom took me shopping. We spent a good hour looking for a pair of jeans. I hate shopping and jean shopping tends to be the worst. For whatever reason, jeans never fit the same brand to brand, size to size, etc. and so I dread going out and looking. After what seemed an eternity, I had finally found a pair that fit well, looked great and made me feel pretty good about myself. Whew! It only took an hour and a half, but I was the owner of a new pair of jeans.
We went back, changed into work clothes, and started working in the yard at Grandma Bacon's house before darkness would fall and curfew set in.
The amount of debris in her yard seemed so overwhelming. I could spend an hour in a 3'x3' area and feel as if I moved a mountain when in fact, nothing looked any different. We were so careful to go through every piece of debris, just in case there was a treasure attached to it. There could be a picture, report card, letter, or drawing stuck in the midst of anything we were dragging to the curb and we didn't want to miss any of it. There were towels, living room carpets, coat hooks, electrical wiring, door hinges, pvc pipe, roofing, glass, glass and more glass.
We found National Geographic books, textbooks, Bible studies, and journals, all water logged and torn apart. And pictures. Those made me cry.
What surprised me the most, was how emotional I was when I came upon this:
It wasn't the pictures, the room decorations, or the empty backpack that caused me to have a small break down. It was a pair of capri jeans and a t shirt. I knew in that moment, somewhere, there were two people that had gone shopping looking for just the right clothes. Maybe they had searched for hours for a pair of jeans that fit just right. Maybe they saw them on the clearance rack and got excited and bought them with glee. Maybe they had gone with their daughter, mother, sister, or best friend and made a memory on that shopping trip. They had put those pants on, looked in the mirror and thought how good they looked in them.
And now, they were nothing more than a torn pair of debris, in the middle of a yard, bound for the land fill.
Yes, I know these are just material things. Yes, I know there are much more important things in life. Yes, I know that life is more important than possessions, but for me, this was the moment that brought home exactly what a tornado does. It tears away from us what we think is security. It tears away the safety we have in our belongings. It rips off our outer shell and leaves us naked, exposed and vulnerable.
And we have to choose how to get dressed back up. Some will choose to do so through their own will and strength. Some will rely on family, friends, neighbors and strangers. Some won't. This will be their final stand and they will allow defeat to overcome. Few will find the true source:
"but those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31
My prayer for those that have been affected by this disaster, whether directly or indirectly, is to find the source of everlasting strength. That they will find the Rock upon which to rebuild their homes. I pray they will find hope in Christ Jesus and that even though their security and safety here on earth may be compromised by nature or fellow humans, their eternal security will be found in a God that loved them so much that He sent His son to die for them.
My prayer is salvation.
Will you join me?
Random pictures:
Curt's grandmother's house. She was on the edge of the tornado's path. We believe that as she sat in her chair in front of the window, she was struck by debris. No one knows for sure because the hit to her head caused her to forget everything from the time her garage doors were rattling to when she woke up in the hospital.
This was taken after 3 days of clean up in Devonshire.
Grandma Bacon's puzzle room. The wall to the left became a black wall of mud and insulation after the tornado.
Comments
Post a Comment