The Lord is our protector.
The Lord is our shelter.
We have asked to be used. The time is now.
Sunday April 27th, 2014
7:15pm We calmly had our children prepare for bed: PJs, potty, brush teeth. Then they gathered their “sleeping stuff” and headed to the playroom where we had cleared out the school table and doll house and replaced it with a futon, flashlights, a shelf of boots, water bottles, pull-ups, and sugar cookies. They sat and goofed off while we attempted to stay self-controlled as we watched and listening to the weather reports of a quickly approaching tornado.
The power went out.
We snuggled together on the futon, nursed the baby, and read a look-n-find Elmo book by flashlight as Matt and I glanced at each other as we heard the storm silence and then the train approach.
A few minutes passed. The kids finished their book. I strapped the sleepy infant in her carrier and we waited. I can only imagine the wait Noah and his family has after God shut the arch door and they waited for the rain to begin. The unknown.
8:30pm Matt snuck out to see if he could get a radio with batteries and signal on his phone. We began playing music for our kids and by no coincidence, the song proclaimed:
“Oh Lord my Lord, you keep us safe. You will protect us. You will keep us safe and watch over us in our coming and going, forever.”
9:00pm Matt headed out to check on dear family-friends. We got word that the tornado passed through their side of town and there was nothing left. The neighbors told me the by-pass apparently looks like a war-zone. The houses behind the sonic in the middle of town are pretty badly damaged. The neighborhood less than ½ a mile away has some damage.
And here I sit. Home intact. Family safely sleeping. Writing. Listing to the terrifying sound of sirens while I have no signal to the rest of the world.
We, like Noah, sent out our birds to check for safe ground. My Matt-bird hasn’t returned. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear what he found. The thought of death and destruction are making my insides cringe.
I just got a text from the family we set out in search of.
“Are y’all ok? Our family is alive. The Lord spared us. All the houses are gone. Many on our road are missing.”
10:00pm The kids' music has stopped. I think they are all 4 finally asleep after the nervous whimpering stopped. I’m sitting here in a big house with a single flashlight lighting the hall for the kids room and the bathroom. I don’t know where that big tub of emergency candles is. I don’t know where my husband is either.
I sit and wait. I’m a worker bee who likes a plan of attack. I don’t know what to do in the silent wait listing to cars and trucks roam up and down near our house in search of people, damage, and destruction. I don’t know how to prepare to be the help God has sent me here to be.
Writing is focusing my thoughts. I want to take captive my thoughts and not let satan run ramped with them through the muck of fear.
My God is so big, so strong, and so mighty. There’s nothing my God cannot do!