Happy June!

It may be impossible for me to explain how very happy I am that it is now June.

Seriously.

I can't tell you (but I'm gonna try) how thrilled I am that May is OVER.

While I don't want to wish time away....
or hurry through the moments that God has blessed me with....
In all honesty???
May 2011-May 2012 was not exactly my favorite period of time.

I'm kinda ready for a "re-do".

I'm looking forward to a summer that IS SUMMER....
not one that was....well....this post may best explain what last summer was/wasn't/was/wasn't.

I'm looking forward to catching fireflies with my kids...
to staying up super late and missing much needed sleep because I choose to....
to remembering which days are for tennis and which are for swim team....
to not showing up at the wrong venue 2-3 times a week....
to remembering all the ingredients (at once) for homemade ice cream....
to checking some things off our "what we WANT to do" list....
to being excited to come home at the end of a weekend getaway.

And speaking of "home".....

We're making some serious progress on our "forever place".
There is paint on the walls and tile going down on the floor.
It actually looks more like a house than a disastrous tangled wire pit of total chaotic dust-ridden despair construction zone right now.

And that's good.
Real good.

Our official move date is (hopefully) set for September 1st....but everyone is telling me that it could me much sooner than that.

All of the wonderful kind people in my life are so thrilled for us....and they keep asking me if I'm so excited to be at this point of "transition".

(Now here comes the point of my post where I am afraid I sound like a spoiled rotten ungrateful horrible brat....when I am actually incredibly grateful and know my blessings are obvious but am simply being honest because SO MANY of my "displaced" friends have admitted feeling the exact same way to me and I hope to perhaps normalize this feeling a bit by publicly admitting it and confronting the emotional contradictions.....make sense? )

I don't think "excitement" is the best word to describe my feelings.

I've been racking my computer's thesaurus brain for a good word and here's the best I can come up with:

Anticipatory Relief.

(Yes...it's two words....a "term" really but let's not get technical....please.)

I am really looking forward to being DONE.
I am really looking forward to being SETTLED.

To be specific.....
...to unpacking that last room in the warehouse and seeing once and for all if certain things are actually gone or have been waiting patiently for me in insulation filled cardboard boxes.
... to my kids having a place to unpack their "treasures" and see that some of their old life is still around.
...to framing some photos (that had been lost and I have re-ordered) and putting them out where I can see them.
...to buying bathroom towels that match and are in a color I like.
...to changing the address on my driver's license and sending out "change of address" cards.
...to putting things where I want them instead of just using them from where they landed when they came out of a big black garbage bag last June.
....to being DONE and SETTLED.

Now believe you me....I KNOW that "things" (or even walls and a roof) don't make a home.
I know very well that anything tangible (and I mean anything) can be taken away from you in 72 seconds flat.
I know that the only dependable constant in my family's life is God....and that if we aren't centered around Him we're simply stumbling along on sinking sand.

I promise.
I know this.
I know know know know this.
I knew this last year....and I know it now.

But here's a truth I have learned about myself this year...
I want a home base.
Not a temporary one....but a permanent one.

Maybe it's because I'm a stay at home mom.
Because I'm a homemaker.
Because I'm a girl.
I know it's not because I like picking wall colors and flippin' fixture shapes....because those decisions are driving me freakin' batty.

Whatever the reason....God wired me to feel and work best from a "homey home"....and that's just how it is.

Small disclaimer:
((On the flip side.....
If I felt like God was calling us to make a move....
To become more transitory as a family....
To uproot and travel around doing His work until He told us (if ever) to stop and rest....
I think I could totally do that.
Because the difference would be this:
First of all I would have had the opportunity to CHOOSE to make that lifestyle change.
Secondly....it would be our new life....not some temporary "on hold" business until things became settled again.
But I certainly don't feel like God's nudging me toward a gypsy style missionary life.
If I'm wrong...I will gracefully certainly accept correction.))

Sure....I know this has been an awesome refining experience for me.
That being said....I really hope I've learned what I should and it's almost over.

So let's stop the rambling.

Let me quote a friend of mine in a great articlerecently written about Joplin:

"This is an opportunity we never asked for....but can't afford to waste."

I get to essentially create a home that will be custom-ly perfect for my family of five.
What an opportunity!
I can put outlets in places that I've only DREAMED of!
I can add insulation between my kids' rooms so they don't wake each other!
I can have a fireplace that turns on with a light switch!

And YES I am so happy about the house that we are creating!

But.....
I didn't want to move.
I liked my house.
I loved my neighborhood.
I really miss my neighbors and my "old" life.

I have an opportunity to create a home that my family will enjoy for the rest of our.....forever.
I thought we would have enjoyed our old home forever.

So I look at the dusty newly textured walls in our new house.
I picture where the Christmas tree will go.
I imagine the kids sitting at the soon-to-be installed breakfast bar watching TV.
I try to find the right furniture for the room---and isn't it cool to be able to purchase furniture that actually fits a room instead of trying to fit your old stuff into a different space?--and try not to wince when I think of how our old couch/rug/table/lamp/whatever would have looked in a certain spot.

I want to live in this house.
I like this house.
I know we will be so comfortable there.
I realize how incredibly unbelievable blessed I am to have this opportunity.

I don't think I've explained this very well.
Let me try one more time.

When I am picking out a design for a bookshelf at the house....
I am not "excited" about changing a wall into something different....
But I am hopefully and gratefully anticipating howgood it will feel to see my things settled on those shelves.

When I am walking out a potential fence line in the backyard....
I am not "excited" about creating a fenced space for our dogs.....
But I am happily anticipating how good it will be to not have to worry about that anymore.

When we are moved and settled.....
I will feel relief.
This chapter will close....and the next will begin.

Chapters...and season....must be experienced.
Thank God they have endings.

And we're close to the next chapter....
And when we get there....
Come on over.

I am going to be on the back porch enjoying a big mug of tea.

Or a wedding cake concrete from Shake's.

The Longest Year...

It's been a year.

How can that be?

I'm sure it's only been a week or two.....or maybe it's been 8 or 9 years.

It's so raw....but such another-lifetime-ago.

The week after the tornado I was on extreme autopilot.
I honestly remember maybe about 20% of that time period.
One thing I do recall is lying in my mom's guest bed on one of those endless sleepless nights and realizing that I HAD to somehow process what had happened to me.

I seem to do this best by writing things.

But...
I didn't have a computer,
Or a phone,
Or enough brain cells to spell my name.

Then at some point my mom found her old laptop and I rigged up some weird shouldn't-have-worked connection to the Internet...

...and I wrote.

Over the past year I have looked at my "story" every now and then.....
But haven't been able to read more than a few lines at once.

Today I decided it was time.

And I read it.

And I started shaking.
And crying.
And remembering so so vividly.

I will heal....
I am really almost there.
This city will heal...
It's come so far.

But here's the thing....

Even when healing has occurred.....a scar remains.

And anyone who has ever had a significant scar knows that....
They are sore at first.
Tender.
They hurt when we touch them.
Yet we occasionally feel the need to probe them to "test" the healing process....
and we feel the pain again.
Yes...it's less than the original injury....
but it still hurts.
But with each day/week/month/anniversary that passes....the tenderness lessens....
Until eventually only a memory of the pain surfaces.

Joplin has scars.

Some are visible....like the monstrous hulk of St John's hospital.

Others are prettily bandaged....like the Extreme Home Makeover houses standing along an otherwise empty street.

But many are hidden....like the debris that's been covered with a foot of new topsoil. 
And these remain out of sight until someone decides to dig a hole for a new tree or foundation....and then makes the realization that the "fresh new ground" is just a big facade.

Moving on?
Nah.
Moving forward, I think.
But not forgetting.
Instead...remembering.

Remembering how we were....
What we liked about our PT lives....
What we lost...
What we gained....
And ultimately realizing that God truly truly truly does work all things toward His good.

So here's the link to my post on May 22nd 2011.

And a link to my sister-in-law's story, which easily brings tears to my eyes too.

If you have a moment....read them.
And remember.
Remember not what abject fear feels like....but what abject gratefulness feels like.

God heard my prayers....
And to borrow the words from a beautiful song....

(On May 22nd I saw:)

Love that doesn't ever end...
Even when the sky is falling...
I've seen miracles just happen...
Silent prayers get answered...
Broken hearts become brand new....
That's what faith can do.

I am truly blessed beyond measure.
Truly.

Here it Comes...

I don't believe much in anniversaries.

Not that I don't believe they exist....that would be a little silly.
It's just that I've never put much stock in the self-made importance that people pour into a certain amount of time passing after an event.

(Now I DO love birthdays....which I realize are an "anniversary" of the day of birth and all...but I look at those more as an excuse to celebrate a person.  Am I talking out of two sides of my mouth?  Possibly.  But it's my mouth.)

Ask RH. 
We're married.
We were married last year.
We'll be married next year.
We'll be married forever....and the "year amount" might be a good excuse for an adult-only vacation....but the amount of years doesn't truly matter unless it's the diamond anniversary and then RH better flippin' remember.

Anyway.
The point I am trying to come to in my rambling is that while I have never been much of an "anniversary gal"....
I simply can't avoid this particular anniversary.
This particular "memorial".

May 22nd is right around the corner.
Even if you didn't have a calender or an iphone or an ipad or a clue you couldn't claim "ignorance" on the date.
There are ads and information and counseling offers and tributes in all of the newspapers and tv stations and billboards and signs stuck on pickets in yards.

And then there was the Joplin Memorial Run yesterday.

While it was a good race....well organized, well attended and well supported....it wasn't what I had personally expected. 
I had thought that I would have a good ol' cathartic cry at the beginning when they released the 161 balloons and called for 161 seconds of silence.....but unfortunately I was too busy totally panicking trying to find my running partner to give into any emotions.
I had thought that I would have a hard time not crying when we ran past my old neighborhood and the other tornado devastated areas....but I was too busy avoiding various splots of road kill and trying to keep up with my psychotic we can make it in under two hours running partner while going up the longest hill ever.
I had thought that after the run I would (literally and metaphorically) wipe off the reside from the tornado, close the steel reinforced door on the past year and move into the next year as a gi-normous "redo" with fresh expectations and views.

Then I saw my mom after we finished and she told me she cried when the men carrying flags ran by.

And I teared up.

Then I saw a picture of a friend of mine's cat on someone's shirt.  My friend found her cat after it had been buried in the debris of her house, and the shirt said: "I survived being buried under the rubble for 16 days....you can run 13.1 miles!"

And I teared up.

Then this morning as I was getting dressed for church I picked out a white skirt.
Then I realized I wore that same white skirt the first (and second and third) time we went to church after the tornado because it had been in my "lost" luggage and was the only skirt I had left.

And I wore a new sundress instead.

And I went out to lunch with my mom and step-mom and they began talking about where they were when they heard about the tornado and what went through their minds.....and for the first time in months (and I meant MONTHS) I started shaking.

That same all-over-body-shaking I experienced the first few months after the tornado.
My mom thought I was chilly.
I let her think that.

Then someone pointed out that my dad and step mom were leaving to go back to Atlanta on May 22nd....just like last year.

Geesh.
Who cares?
It's just another day?
Right?

Yes.
And no.

Then I got on facebook.
It may not be May 22nd...but it is the "same Sunday" (thank you leap year!) that it was last year...and
People are remembering.
People are emotional.
People are re-creating in their minds exactly what was happening one year ago.

Most of the posts are full of gratefulness.
Many are full of memories.
Some speak of the fear that still lingers.
Quite a few of them address the changes that are still hard to adapt to.
Many mention the difficulties that still exist in dealing with the event.

Yeah....I get all of those emotions.

I finished my "additional living expenses" report for insurance today.
Basically it's a compilation of expenses incurred during our "homeless period" directly after the tornado.
Part of it included itemizing receipts (which I somehow miraculously had) of food, supplies, and meals eaten out of the house during that time.
As I copied a receipt from Johnny Carino's on May 28th I had a total memory flashback of that afternoon with my brother and my parents.

We left my house because I just couldn't take it anymore....and went to see what had happened to the rest of the town.
We drove past the high school to see it for ourselves for the first time.
I remember how raw and horrible and sick I felt.
I remember when we reached the other end of town and my brother and father said they were starving and pulled into the restaurant and I thought I was going to throw up.
I remember pretending to eat a wedge salad (and there it was on the receipt) so my dad wouldn't yell at me....while sitting in the restaurant in my sister-in--law's dirty workout shorts drinking wine (because there was still a boil order on water and I couldn't get diet coke)....and Barrett meeting us to tell us that our insurance company had officially "totaled"our house.
I remember RH and my parents and brother being happy about that because it was "better" for us insurance-wise....and having to go to the bathroom because I was crying so hard.
I remember my dad telling the waiter to just ignore me as I continued to cry all the way through lunch....

This vivid memory came back from a receipt.
A stupid little piece of crumpled paper.
A piece of paper with the ability to make my stomach churn and my eyes well up.

What's going to happen on Tuesday?
What's going to happen at 5:40 when I remember how scarily empty my arms felt when I couldn't put them around my son and nephew as trees began flying?
What's going to happen at 5:41 when I remember how loudly my ears popped?
What's going to happen at 5:42 when I remember holding my arms over my son and godson and his sister in my basement and hearing the world rip apart around me?

Well...there are two possibilities.

One:  I lose it.
Just lose it.

Two:  I am overcome with pure and extreme thankfulness.  Complete gratefulness to God for hearing and answering prayers that day....for my family and for so so so so many others.

I suspect it will be more of the latter....with a healthy dose of the former thrown in.

It will be a day of many tissues.
A day of holding my family close.
A day of reading Psalm 116 over and over again.

Truth?
I'm looking forward to May 23rd.
I want to "close the door".....and keep moving forward.
I don't want to "re-live" and "re-remember" all of this....because it is still so very raw.

Other truth?
I want to remember.
I don't want to forget.
This event has changed me, shaped me, helped refine me... and I want to hold it close enough that I can reach out and grab a memory that helps me keep my priorities where God wants them to be.

So I'm a little mixed up on this.
That's par for the course.

But listening to the people around me....I'd say I'm not the only person who is (eagerly or dreadfully) anticipating this anniversary.

We're all experiencing something new..... this whole year has been a year of "firsts" after the storm.
And this is the "first" memorial.

We'll see how it goes.

If you catch me crying....just pass the tissues please.
But I'd prefer to avoid the wedge salad.

Side-By-Sides...

Today I feel the need to share a personal bit of truth.

(Hurry....click far far away from here while there's still time!)

Here goes.

I am not a runner.

I am simply not a runner.

Yes...I run.
Yes....I train.
Yes....I even run races.

But....I am not a runner.

In my mind....a runner is someone who loves to "get out there and pound the pavement."
Someone who pushes themselves to the ends of their limitations....and then begins planning the next run while they're picking themselves up from a puddle of exhaustion.
Someone who wears shirts that say, "If I collapse....pause my Garmin."
A runner gets those "runner's highs"....and strives to go farther and faster.
They are anxious to start and thrilled to finish.
Runners properly carb load and do recovery drinks (usually involving some weird protein combination) and actually know what "interval training" means.

Me?

Well..

I run because I'm getting older and I want to keep eating Shakes.
I sign up for races so I HAVE to train and therefore have "street therapy" time with my running buddy.
I don't go if it's too cold or too hot or raining.
My carbs usually include some variation on a mixture of bagels, cadbury cream eggs, mac & cheese, and probably Shakes.
(But not Thai food.  Never Thai food.  I learned that lesson....trust me on this one.)
I walk when I'm tired and my only "intervals" involve speeding up until I get to a shady spot.

In fact...the majority of the races I sign up for involve a fun destination....and that is how I justifyget my "girl trip time" in with my friends.

But....
My next races is not so much a "destination" one.

In two weeks I'm going to run in the Joplin Memorial Race.

It's commemorating the tornado last May...and dedicated to those who lost their lives as well as those who came in by the thousands to help us.

And as much as I'm not a fan of running....I usually just gripe and moan and make it through without actually going off of the deep end although I may tuck and roll....just ask my running boss!.


This time though....I think I may be a little more emotional.

Today I got an email from the race site with a link to THIS VIDEO showing the race course.
There are a few spots during the video where the tech-savvy crew put up a simultaneous side-by-side picture of what the road looked like BEFORE May 22nd next to what it looks like now.

Quite a bit of the race route goes along the exact streets where we run.
Now we've been running these streets for several months now...and gotten over the shock used to seeing them as they are today.
But as I watched the "before" pictures ......
Uggh.
Gut punch.
I forgot.
I remembered.
Uggh.

Then just after "mile 7" (at about 5 minutes) the route/video goes past my old neighborhood.

My friend and I have been purposefully running through our old neighborhood since a few months after the tornado.
Although both of us had been "displaced" from that neighborhood...that's where we'd run for sooooooo long we didn't want to let the stupid tornado change any more of our lives change all of our routes.
Besides....it was a good way to keep up on the rebuilding of the 'hood.

Point is....I'm used to it now.
What I'm not used to is seeing a "side-by-side" of how it used to look.
How I remember it....even though I have almost forgotten it.

So all of this blather is a long way around to saying....
I think I may be a bit emotional this race.

It's been a year.
That's a long time.
But not that long.

Things still hurt.
Things still seem "off".
Things still aren't quite settled for everyone.

Me, at least.

Tuesday the furniture restoration place came to get my bedroom furniture.
Parts of it had big scrapes and gouges and water damage....but we'd waited until everything else was done so that I didn't have to go too long without dressers or a bed.

Before they came I had to clean out all of the drawers.
Now mind you...I've been using these drawers.
We taped them shut after the storm when we moved the dresser....and I just kept using them when we moved it into our current house.
On Tuesday...when I realized they restoration people were coming in 15 minutes.... I dumped all of the drawers out on the floor.

Amidst the cascade of mismatched socks and old workout shorts came pretty little tufts of insulation and random twigs and gritty things.

Again....gut punch.

I've been USING this stuff.
These drawers were closed during the tornado.
How did I not notice this junk in my drawers???

Then I dumped out my night side table.
Same thing.

Yuck.

Then that same night Ethan and I went looking for a book.
It's a book I had as a kid (and the kids loved that you could still read my name where my mom had written it) that we all enjoyed reading together...we just hadn't thought about it in a while.

Guess what?

Yeah.

It's gone.

Then this weekend we needed the camp chairs which were buried in the warehouse....
Then I discovered that my kid's special photo books I thought were ok (because I finally had time to look at them for the first time in 11 months) were actually moldy....
Then I argued with the contractors that I didn't want my new kitchen desk the practical way they were suggesting....I wanted it the same way as my old house....


Nothing big.
Nothing earth-shattering.
Nothing (Certainly!) salvational.

Just little snippets.
Little reminders.
Little "side by side" comparisons of what normal used to be.

I think that as we near the one-year anniversary....memories may come closer to the surface.

Today as Bennett was climbing out of my car to go into his fiddle lesson he randomly said,
"Mom....know what's weird?"

"What?"

"I don't want to think about the tornado....but I really want to remember the tornado.  That's weird, isn't it?"

I kind of get what he means.
I'm not dwelling (writing about it is NOT dwelling....it's more of ....well....debriedment.  Yeah.).
I'm moving forward....
But I want to remember.

So I answered, "No.  I don't think it's weird.  I feel the same way. I think it's just that everything has changed so much....including us....that maybe have to remember what it is that made all of these changes."

And he moseyed into fiddle and I wondered if I'd answered correctly.

So.....what's my point?
Who knows.
I guess I'm just realizing that underneath all the day-to-day normalcy around this city....there are still a lot of small little "side-by-side" comparisons to the "old normalcy" in our minds.

Maybe it's just me.

Maybe not.

But I kind of doubt that I'm the only one who is going to be needing kleenex during this race.

Now I realize that many of the runners will be giving their all....running their hearts and knees and hips out and finishing hours ahead of me.

That's awesome for them...and I applaud them.
Those guys and gals have WAY more discipline then I can even imagine having.

But if you happen to come out to spectate this race...
And you see me slowing down and blowing my nose on my shirt around mile 7....
Or crying when I read the "In Memory Of....." shirts around me....
Or wiping my eyes when we pass St John's.....
Or more tears as we go past the street where all of the nursing homes once stood.....

Just hand me some kleenex.
My shirt will probably be soaked by then and my running partner will be incredibly grateful to you.

Leftovers...

I don't want to be rude....just (surprise!) honest here with a sincere disclaimer:
If you're sick and tired of hearing about the tornado......you probably ought not read this post.

Just a fair warning because I hate the thought that I'm the cause of eye rolls and heavy sighs and grunts of disgust.

(I get enough of that with my pre-teen and 5 year old.)

To be completely honest (again)....I'm sick of hearing about the tornado too.

It's over people....
It's been almost a year....
Strap on those big girl panties and
MOVE ON.

Seriously.

When I see the remaining smashed up untouched buildings around town I get a little irritable. 

Let's smash and crumble and pile and remove that debris folks....we all know the routine by now.

We've all seen the signs flashing on every major road this month:
DEBRIS REMOVAL DEADLINE APRIL 2something!

When I am at the store and get held up in the checkout line because people are retelling their "Where Were you When" stories I no longer feel quite as patient as I did the first few months after May.

When people ask me if I was happy with our insurance company and I have to explain to them that we still haven't received a CENT on content and I am still filling out appeals and receipts my shoulders tense up with the frustration at the repetitive state of stress these pain in the.... goofballs have chained me to.

When I go into stores to pick out things for our new house and the lovely workers ask me if we're remodeling because of tornado damage I cringe.

I don't want to revisit it anymore.

We are moving forward.
We are focused on what we've gained.
We are grateful for what we have.
We are immersed in our normal (not even a "new" normal anymore...right?").
We are simply living our lives.

Right?

At my boys' school they have an art fair every year.
Each student in the elementary classes draws a picture...and they all have to include the same elements in their own creative variations.
This year the kids had to draw a gorilla, an elephant and a giraffe.

I always like wandering through the halls and seeing the fun scenes everyone has concocted.
Elephants playing tennis,
Gorillas rowing canoes,
Giraffes neck-wrestling.

Then I came upon the elephant being sucked up by a tornado while the giraffe exclaimed (via a bubble over it's yellow head), "Oh no....not another tornado!"

Then we had thunderstorms this weekend and my nephew (who is literally not afraid of ANYTHING) hid behind a door so I wouldn't see him crying and shaking.

Then I watched some show on the Weather Channel about how they rate tornadoes on the EF scale based on damage caused.  They simulated how an EF-4 knocked down interior walls....and I had a startling vivid memory of how the big inside wall of our foyer had been knocked over so we could see through the ceiling.

When these things happen....you (I) deal with them. 
You smile sadly at the poor elephant and thank God that the kiddo can express himself in art.
You hug a nephew and explain how we have weather alerts and will let him know when/if it's time to worry then take him outside and let him roll in the mud and play Navy Seal until he's not scared.
You pray a prayer of thankfulness and change the channel.

But then...
When you're not expecting it....
Something wrenches your insides and you have to go to a quiet room and figure out why you just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

Too many "reminders" in one day?
Too many instances of feeling helpless?
Too little sleep?
Too much insurance hassle?
Too much other stress?

I don't know.

But I do know that it's not just me.

(I may be a little "not-normal"...I may have neuroses aplenty...I might have serious (matching and cute) emotional baggage....but this time I do have plenty of company in this particular arena.)

Sitting at my in-laws pool this weekend my father-in-law (who is not really an emotional guy at all) told me that the weather that day reminded him of the afternoon of May 22nd.

My dear friend told me that she is terrified of the approaching storm season.

Another sweet friend changed important travel plans last weekend because of the threat of severe weather....she was afraid to be away from her kids if a storm happened.

A good friend called me to offer their home (with many basement rooms) to us any night there were storms....and said she just felt she had to make sure I knew it was available.

And there are more stories.
More people who seem to be a little jittery.

Is it because the storm season is starting?
Is it because the "anniversary" is approaching?

Maybe both?

And this isn't just people who were actually "in" the tornado.
It's everyone who lives in this town and was impacted.
All of us.

We've lived through it.
We've victors.
We have put our lives and the lives of our loved ones in God's hands and we're comfortable with that.

But....
When the Weather Channel says:
"Live Threatening Storms Approaching!!!!"

We get a little sickly tremble-y on edge.

So what's the point of this rambling post?

Maybe it's just to say.....
Let's give ourselves a break.
Take a step back.
If you need a moment.....take it.

And maybe try to be sensitive to each other.
If someone leaves work early to get their kids from school early because yucky weather is approaching.....
Don't judge.
Just love them.....and pray for the spirit of fear to go away from them.

If someone goes into a loooooooong story about how their new dress/sweater/shoe/whatever that you just complimented is actually a replacement from the one the tornado sucked away.....
Don't groan.
Just love them....and pray for quietness and peace for them.

And if someone snaps "No thank you we're fine!" when you explain to them that their new fixtures will all be discounted because they lost their home to a tornado (not mentioning any names like myself here...) then walks away in tears.....
Don't take away the discount.
Don't take it personally.
Just know that they're working through things the best that they can.

And we ARE moving on.

We really are.

But sometimes we may find that a little bit of debris got left...
And we may trip over it....
But we'll get back up and keep on keepin' on.

And for me...
My gratefulness is very prominent.
My praise and thankfulness to my amazing God won't stop......
And I'm very happy he loves my old messed up self.

And I'm happy for discounts.
And the wedding cake concrete at Shake's.


(And THIS SONG....I'm awfully grateful for this song too.)

It's Good to be Used...

Wow.
It's been a while since I blogged.
Now why oh why could that be?!?!

Could it have something to do with my 3 psychotically high energy nut-jobs precious angels?

How about our current ripping to shreds of anything usable cautious gutting of our soonsomeday-to-be-forever house?

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we stayed up until 11:50 the other night using two (count 'em...two) snow sleds, an entire roll of packing tape, 3 trash cans and a soup jar to make a redneck water divert-er because our fishbowl was leaking really badly in the rainstorm and we haven't had time to get that piece of the roof fixed?

Might it have been the 24 page appeal I had to write our insurance company regarding the 120 out of 610 items that they depreciated 50% -80% even though they were brand new?

Perhaps it's because I had to spend several hours "dealing" with the....shall we say....issues that RH's puppy had on the main floor, down the stairs, on the landing (including the wall...huh?) down the next set of stairs at the bottom and into and throughout the storage room?

Well...whatever the reason...it's been a while and I apologize for not sharing our spring break story more quickly like I promised so many sweet friends.

So.
As the local and national news reported....after the tornado hit us in May
THOUSANDS
of volunteers came to Joplin to lend a hand.

Some of them rebuilt entire homes...
Some of them handed out water...
Some of them helped people find their belongings....
Some of them adopted homeless dogs...
Some of them passed out sack lunches...
Some of them gave out moving boxes...
And many of them prayed and gave their shoulders and ears.

These amazing people are one of the reasons that we--as a city---were able to withstand the chaos that the tornado caused.

For our family personally, it meant more than the world to receive goodies and cards and calls and prayers and messages from people---both known and unknown--all over the country.

And we told each other that
(although we fervently hoped and prayed a storm like this would never happen again)
IF tornados struck somewhere nearby....
WE SHOULD GO LEND A HAND.

WE should be the ones offering support.

Well....'ol mother nature may have had a nice rest this winter...
But she sure as heck came roaring out her cozy little nest in a very foul mood.

On March 2nd a series of storms ransacked Missouri, Illinois, Alabama, Indiana and Kentucky.

We watched the TV in a sick sense of shock....
grieving for them as we relived the terrifying sensations ourselves.

And we knew....
That although God certainly hadn't caused this to happen...
He most definitely was presenting us with a chance to serve.

So we decided that since our family dynamics don't lend themselves well to a clean-up or demolition crew (although they kids are REALLY good at demolishing my attempts at organization!) we would have to find another avenue to "serve" with.

And since the news reports showed that many volunteers had already flocked to the affected areas, we came up with the idea to do something similar to what we'd done for the volunteers in Joplin this last summer.

We put out some messages asking if anyone might want to provide some baked goodies or cards with prayers and words of encouragement for the tornado survivors.

And wow.
The outpouring of love was AMAZING.

Our entire eating room was OVERFLOWING with cookies and breads and muffins and cookies and CD's of encouraging songs and cards and hand-decorated bags and cookies and messages and stickers and cookies.

And cookies.

(and as an aside I HAVE to say this:  Yes...we (Joplin, that is) were VERY fortunate to have have so many people willing to help us...but this made is SO obvious to me how immense our sense of gratefulness for that help was.  Because the moment people had a chance to "pay it forward"....they sure sure sure did.  This city....these people......wow.)

Then we loaded up the car and headed for Louisville.

From there we went North to Maryville and NabbIndiana.

These towns were little....and pretty much wiped out.

Now I'll tell you....it was VERY different from here.
Those were "typical" tornadoes....in that they "jumped" and "hopped" from place to place.
The places they touched down were horribly battered and destroyed...
but the storm didn't stay on the ground like it did here.

So that meant that in some places there were people out gardening in their untouched yards just 2 homes down from a concrete debris laden wiped-out slab of a house.

An area that was hardest hit in these towns looked like a block or two of Joplin.

It actually made me realize (and i guess although I knew I didn't really know....you know?) how bad our storm really was.

So in Nabb we found a church that was serving as base for all the volunteers to organize and orient themselves.  

We talked with them about where they recommended we should go....and they gave us some direction and invited us to come back at lunchtime.   They had been (and would continue to) have a team of people serving hot lunches to volunteers and survivors.   But...as the church lady explained...they didn't have desserts.

A-ha.

Got that message, Lord.

Guess what we just so happen to have in the back of the car?

The team was so excited....and it was so cool to know we were being used.

We left them with a bunch of goodies and many of the copies of letters to hand out to people and then drove to Henryville.

It's a bigger city and we were able to connect with some people on an individual basis.

We handed out some cookies and bags with CD's and letters.
People saw our "Restore Joplin" shirts and asked us how WE were doing.

Humbling.

We also heard people's stories.

We listened to a man tell about how his kids were on the school bus whose driver saw the tornado coming and got the kids off and into the shelter of a stranger's basement, saving their lives. This man started shaking as he talked about how he didn't know if his sons were alive for a while.

I got it.

We talked to a man who was trying to find some salvageable landscape flowers to give his parents who had lived in that pile of rubble for 50 years.

I got it.

We spoke with a man who said that his house had been less than a block away from the DZ and how he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

I got it.

And at the end of these conversations....we were able to do something even more meaningful than share a cookie. (although those were some dang good cookies...not that I sampled any!)

We were able to share with them that :
it does get better...
life will go on....
it's essential to realize how close God is at this moment....
things will begin to eventually make sense....
the fog will begin to lift...
and....one day...there will be a new normal.

And we could look around at the chaos....
we could smell that horrible-never-to-be-forgotten-awful wet insulation mixed with pine smell...
see the orange vested people digging through rubble...

And know how far our hometown had come.

What a gift for us.

Then we came upon another big tent at a church where the Catholic Charities were serving hot meals.

Again we chatted with them and told them what we were doing.

They asked us if we possibly had any extra desserts because they were all out, and they expected to serve meals for the next several weeks.

Yeah....we got your desserts right here!

So we unloaded into their trailers and shared a meal with some really neat volunteers (and some really good bratwurst).

I am really glad we went.
I want my kids remember how it felt to step out of our comfort zone.
I hope this can be a baby step for my family in learning to look for God's plan instead of our own.

I am so in awe of and thankful to all of my amazing friends who baked and baked and baked and baked.....what wonderful people whom I am so blessed to know!


Then we decided it was time to let the kids be kids and get away from that tornado puke smell that they all remember too well so we left Indiana and drove South.

We took them to a seedy honky-tonk bar in Nashville and let them put money in the singer's tip jar and request horrible country music.
(that particular endeavor may have been more out of MY comfort zone than theirs....they areRH's kids after all!)
We rode in a tacky horse-drawn carriage and I ate held Carolyn's ice cream so she could help "drive".
We cruised on the General Jackson and listened to more oh please shoot me now lovely country music.
We stopped in Memphis for some Rendezvous BBQ.

And we managed to hit 6 states in 4 days.

Overall....a pretty dang good spring break.

So it's back to "reality" now.
But in all honestly....
I'm a little concerned that my particular reality includes 2 snow sleds taped to my round windows.