Aftermath
We had a storm on Friday night.
And that may be the biggest understatement of my adult life.
The experts call it a derecho, a land hurricane. This is one of the things we learned after the storm had passed. After one of the scariest imminent-danger-type experiences ever.
It was a triple-digit evening spent watering our parched and wilting garden. As darkness fell, there was some lightning over the mountains, miles away. All of a sudden, the sound of a freight train. The wind came rushing in at 75 MPH, the power flickered off, and stuff started flying through the air.
Aden was too scared to go to bed, Trey was with his Nana and Granddad (who were struggling to get home, driving through the whipping winds), and so we just sat at the kitchen table with candles burning and Brandon gathering the sad pieces of our emergency kit.
Lightning provided the only glimpse of what was going on outside. Well, lightning and the repeated sounds of crashing debris. And so we would wait until morning for a full view of the destruction.
The house swiftly warming, as soon as the storm died down we opened every window. There was a hint of breeze through the boys' windows, so that is where we hunkered down for the night. My mind was reeling, so sleep was a long time coming. I prayed.
Thanked God for the brave and selfless folks out there working so hard to clear trees off the road, to rescue those in need of rescuing, to restore power. Prayed that they would be safe and have the energy to do their jobs.
Thanked God for our own safety and that of our home. Prayed that those we love would be equally as blessed.
Thanked God whenever a breeze crept through the windows. For the chirping crickets, since according to my husband I can only sleep in a wind tunnel. (No silence for Mama!)
Thanked God that this did not happen in the heat of the day. That the boys would not get overheated because of the cool(er) evening. That everyone had full bellies and clean clothes and comfy beds.
That this happened on a weekend, a weekend where we really didn't have any major plans. The storm filled in our plans for us!
That should the power remain off for any extended length of time, I was confident that we would have a cool and loving place to go. (Thanks, Mom!)
And so much more. Finally, after 2AM, sleep came. It didn't last long, as I woke with the sunlight just before six. Found a way to answer nature's call, grabbed my camera, and headed outside.
Three trees down, corn flattened, outdoor stuff tossed about, structures pummeled.
As I walked around, over and over through my head echoed John 14:1-3.
Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.
Not sure exactly why, except that more and more I find myself longing for heaven.
What we found in the aftermath was not ideal. Ugly in places, and certainly a ton of work. But the most important things we found were a house untouched, a family alive and healthy, and a God still very much in control, who in His overwhelming power taught us a lesson on faith and gratitude.
Though with all due respect, I hope never to hear the word derecho again.
And that may be the biggest understatement of my adult life.
The experts call it a derecho, a land hurricane. This is one of the things we learned after the storm had passed. After one of the scariest imminent-danger-type experiences ever.
It was a triple-digit evening spent watering our parched and wilting garden. As darkness fell, there was some lightning over the mountains, miles away. All of a sudden, the sound of a freight train. The wind came rushing in at 75 MPH, the power flickered off, and stuff started flying through the air.
Aden was too scared to go to bed, Trey was with his Nana and Granddad (who were struggling to get home, driving through the whipping winds), and so we just sat at the kitchen table with candles burning and Brandon gathering the sad pieces of our emergency kit.
Lightning provided the only glimpse of what was going on outside. Well, lightning and the repeated sounds of crashing debris. And so we would wait until morning for a full view of the destruction.
The house swiftly warming, as soon as the storm died down we opened every window. There was a hint of breeze through the boys' windows, so that is where we hunkered down for the night. My mind was reeling, so sleep was a long time coming. I prayed.
Thanked God for the brave and selfless folks out there working so hard to clear trees off the road, to rescue those in need of rescuing, to restore power. Prayed that they would be safe and have the energy to do their jobs.
Thanked God for our own safety and that of our home. Prayed that those we love would be equally as blessed.
Thanked God whenever a breeze crept through the windows. For the chirping crickets, since according to my husband I can only sleep in a wind tunnel. (No silence for Mama!)
Thanked God that this did not happen in the heat of the day. That the boys would not get overheated because of the cool(er) evening. That everyone had full bellies and clean clothes and comfy beds.
That this happened on a weekend, a weekend where we really didn't have any major plans. The storm filled in our plans for us!
That should the power remain off for any extended length of time, I was confident that we would have a cool and loving place to go. (Thanks, Mom!)
And so much more. Finally, after 2AM, sleep came. It didn't last long, as I woke with the sunlight just before six. Found a way to answer nature's call, grabbed my camera, and headed outside.
Three trees down, corn flattened, outdoor stuff tossed about, structures pummeled.
As I walked around, over and over through my head echoed John 14:1-3.
Not sure exactly why, except that more and more I find myself longing for heaven.
What we found in the aftermath was not ideal. Ugly in places, and certainly a ton of work. But the most important things we found were a house untouched, a family alive and healthy, and a God still very much in control, who in His overwhelming power taught us a lesson on faith and gratitude.
Though with all due respect, I hope never to hear the word derecho again.
Comments