Beautiful Disasters

Disasters.
There are many
many
many
many
different levels of disasters.

My daughter's room after a 12 minute play-date:
Disaster.

My teenager's closet after he "organizes" his room:
Disaster.

My RH's bedside table (which is piled so high with junk important stuff that it's continually toppling over in the middle of the night LOUDLY):
Disaster.

Really...I've found that I use that word kinda often.

The state of my garage,
An attempt to make banana bread in a convection oven,
The basement after a ping pong tournament,
The kitchen table after six kids devoured cupcakes,
The idea of doing "summer math",
RH's dog's encounter with a skunk,
Shake's being out of wedding cake for my concrete.....

All things I've labeled "disasters."


But seriously?

Whatever.
Minor inconveniences, really.
Many of them are even kind of humorous.
(But not the Shake's one.  Not at all.)

Real disasters.....
Those are different.

A tornado ripping through your town?
Pretty disastrous.

A tornado taking away someone you love?
Even way way worse.

Disasaters are relative....
and there is always something worse.
Always.

My family and I saw our town turn into a disaster area a little over two years ago.
Literally.
'Ol Obama himself came and declared us an official disaster zone.

We walked over it.
We climbed on it.
We smelled it.
We lived in it.

It was hard...
And sometimes kind of scary.
But after a while we became somewhat....
well...
Accustomed to it?
Used to it?
Pretty blasé about it?

Maybe.
You almost have to, sometimes.

Then a year later we were in Indiana a few weeks after some horrible tornadoes had ripped through several communities.

The damage was no where as wide spread as Joplin....but it was pretty nasty.

I was worried about how the kids would react to seeing the damage around us.
Would they have flashbacks?
Would it be scary to them?
Would it bring back memories they'd worked to overcome?

Well....
We pulled into town and came up to some of the more damaged areas and turned off the kids' (mind-numbing keep-'em-quiet for the trip) movie and told them to look.
They did.
And kind of shrugged their shoulders.
"Looks like Joplin.  Not as bad.  Where are the people we can help?"

Ok then.
Have they become numb to disasters?
Are they compartmentalizing?
Have they run out empathy?

Fast forward to Hurricane Sandy.

I have family on Long Island.
They had to evacuate and we kept in close contact with them.
When the ocean met the bay over their home....we tried to convince them to come to Missouri.
("Forget it! Too many tornadoes there!" )

My kids were worried about their relatives....
But didn't seem too shocked by the pictures of the damage.

When we went to New York this summer and saw a boat still in someone's front yard they thought it was interesting.
Interesting.
Hmmmm.

We were in Moore, Oklahoma this summer where the damage is still quite fresh.
I believe that it's an official disaster as well....thank you Mr. Obama.

Again....the kids were relatively unimpressed with the rubble fields previously known as homes around them.
Again....they kept their eyes peeled for people we could make contact with.
People who wanted to tell their stories.
People who wanted to be heard.
People who wanted cookies.

That afternoon we went to the Memorial Museum for the Okalhoma City Bombing.

Wow.

(Side note:  That might be the most impressive and heart-wrenching place I've been to. 
Beautifully done.
Impossible not to be touched deeply.)

Lots of pictures and examples of the debris.
Lots of survivor stories.
Lots of tributes to those who were lost.

As I walked around I noticed that my kids were drawn to the pictures of rescuers.
They seemed most interested in the stories of the people who came to help.
They loved seeing a wall of T-shirts with all of the places on them that people had come from to help.

Now.
I realize my kids have been exposed
(purposely in some cases)
to many "disaster areas".

I've had people question my reasoning and parenting in allowing them to see these things.

Here's the deal.
I did NOT choose to expose them to their first "big disaster."
But it happened.
And they saw.

And....as they kept seeing....
Their focus became directed toward the "helpers."

And...
Eventually....
to how they could help.

Apparently the legendary Mr. Roger's had a quote he used when disasters were unfolding: 
"Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping."

Well....
My kids have not seen Mr. Rogers.
I'm relatively certain they have no idea who he is.

But....
Kids (and people) WANT to find the good.
They WANT to find the helpers.

They naturally search for the good....the Godly....the pure .....in the midst of disasters.

Even when I find myself tearfully aghast at someone's story....
I have a kid tugging on my sleeves and smiling and waving at volunteers walking toward us.

They look for the good
Because they know there IS good.

Have I done something to teach them this?
Heck-to-the-no.

They just haven"t (perhaps)
Grown up enough to become negatively focused.

Where I might see shattered dreams....
They see cool youth groups coming to help clear someone's lot.

Where I might fixate on the "could have been so bad"'s.....
They focus on the "it turned out ok!"

When I might see an overwhelmingly huge (literal) debris field...
They notice the sunflower growing next to piles of smashed homes.

My kids have shown me lots.

Some of it I don't always want to see like what random food they're currently chewing on  because, as an adult (or is it just me????) I need to see the "ugly" so that I can empathize and sympathize and be 100% ready and willing to sacrificially help.

But....when I do see what they see....
I find hope.

And don't kids live in a perpetual state of hope?

And isn't that a pretty darn good state in which to live?

(Less tornados there, I think.)

Point being....
I think it's ok for my kids to see real life.
I think them seeing that bad things can happen
(because they do)
is ok because THEN they see how goodness blooms out of all of that dirt.

That being said...
I don't let them watch certain movies.
I turn off the news when certain stories come on.
I monitor what they see on the computer.

I want to preserve their innocence to certain kinds of ugliness for as long as I can.

Because,
I know,
That someday they will be thrust out from under my wings into the real cold scary world.

I pray that by then they will be so good at looking for...
the helpers,
the good things,
the way God brings beauty out of disaster..

That they will be able to keep on keepin' on without
cynicism or
despair or
paralyzing fear
or anger....

That they will be able to look past the "yuck" and find the hope.
And...that they will be able to search for ways to serve and help.

I want my kids (and I want myself!)
to know know know know know
that in the midst of any type of disaster....
God is there.

And when He is there,
Because He is there...
it will,
eventually,
truly,
be ok.

And doesn't God, in His awesomeness, sometimes use people to show other people how He loves??

By being there...
By being in the "disasters"...
By being ready and available....

Maybe we can be lucky enough to be used.

So we will keep on.
Trying to be there.
Looking for ways to help.
Searching for the good.
Pointing out the helpers.

Learning gradually daily minutely to focus on the bits of beauty amidst the chaos.

And maybe...
Just maybe....
we will even be able to find the clean spot on my daughter's floor and use it to stand in as we begin cleaning up the mess.

Maybe.

Splinters

A while back my dear father said,
"I think your whole town has PTSD."

I agreed then that at that point....he was probably right.

However....we've come a loooooooooooooooooooong way.

We've grown.
We've healed.
We've learned.
We've eaten Shake's.

Last week-ish we had our first really big bout with severe weather since the tornado.

(Not counting that micro-burst that hit us the first morning we were in our new house and literally knocked me over on my screened in porch and messed up our new roof.....)

When the horrible storm hit Moore, Oklahoma
the images and stories hit awfully close to our Joplin hearts.
Then we saw the storm coming our way.
Then the sirens went off.
In fact....the sirens went off THREE times.
People scattered to their various shelters.
(and the the weirdly humorous and slightly self-deprecating comments
began flowing all over fb and texts:
"We are the mole-people!"
"I think we live in Meerkat Manor!"
"Dang...left my wine on the counter!")
And it was over without incident.

Then the anniversary of our May 22nd storm came along.

And again....we were basically ok.

Yes.
There were memories.
There were fears.
There were tears.
There was mourning.

But we were ok.

(And to make this self-centered....
I was ok.
I was cautious.
I was prepared.
I had my little ducks all in a crooked screwy row and within arm's reach.
I was prayed up.)

And we did it.
We made it through.

Hooray us.
Hooray me.
Adios PTSD!

Ha.

Ha. Ha.
(Can you hear the slightly maniacal inflection in that laugh?)

Sooooo......
Yesterday it was stormy again.
In fact it was supposed to be pretty darn stormy overnight too... and my eldest wanted to stay the night at a buddy's house.

I actually considered keeping him home....
but realized that was neurotic and crazy and pretty non-trusting of the Father that loves him a HECK of a lot more than I could.

So I checked with the other mom and made sure they had a safe room in a basement (they did)...and I dropped him off.

And my stomach was actually kinda twisted about that.

The other two wanted to eat at the mall and then do some shopping.
While we were eating the sky got really dark....and I got the "tornado watch" text from the local weather station.

I told the kids I didn't have "the right part of my wallet" (What?!?!?! That was a graceful sense-making--lie-under-pressure) and we needed to run home for a minute....and we left the mall right after eating.

Wait....
I'm NOT neurotic.
Right?
I said, RIGHT???

Anyway....I screwed my head back on and weheaded out a few hours later
for Ethan's saxophone lesson.
(Hooray again....neuroses conquered.)
It was a little rainy then, but nothing too bad....so we zipped over to the 15th St Walmart to grab a few groceries. 

(Mind you.....this was the store that was smashed two years ago....where quite a few people lost their lives....where two of my friends and their sons survived but went through a terrifying experience that they had just shared with me last week.)

As we were shopping it began to rain REALLY hard.

I noticed a group of  Walmart manager-types marching en masse down an aisle.
Then they marched back the other way.
Several times....not smiling....just purposefully marching somewhere.

We finally got to the check out....and it was raining so hard it was hard to hear people talking.

Our cashier was a young lady who looked at me nervously and said,

"Are you from Joplin?"

I knew exactly what she was asking.

"Yes.  Are you?"

"Yeah.  Were you here for the tornado?"

"Yes.  We weren't at Walmart though....were you?"

"No.  I was at my pastor's house.  But it got hit.  Demolished.  Only thing left standing was the bathroom we were in...and that had a hole in the roof where we should have been pulled out."

"That 's really scary."

"Yeah.  And see the mangers all marching back and forth now?  Looking out the doors?  They were doing this last week when all the sirens started going off."

"You were here?  Where did you go?"

"There's a big shelter here now.  We went back there. "

"That's good.  That's safe."

"Yeah....I hate this.  I can't even hear with this rain.  I hate this."

I reminded her that God had kept her safe before...
And that there is a safe place in the store now....
And showed her on my phone how the radar showed the storm was passing....
And held her shaking hand.

And cell phones were ringing all around us...
And the man behind me was assuring someone loudly that "It's just rain!"....
And the managers kept marching quickly without smiles...
And the thunder rolled.....

And I smiled at my kids and told them we could run by Shakes on the way home.
(Hooray...I am the comforter and Shakes-provider and I neuroses conqueror.)

We stood at the door with our cart for a moment trying to decide if we should get wet or wait.

A Walmart employee swam walked in, looked directly at me and said,
"I really don't want to be working here in this weather."

The rain poured but the thunder had stopped and the kids wanted to
go go go go go go.
I put them in front of me and opened our tiny useless umbrella and told them to hang on to the cart...
And out we went.

JUST AS SOON AS we shot out into the downpour my cell phone alarmed.

Not the gentle "You have a text" ding....
But the

BRAAAAH 
BRAAAAH 
BRAAAAH

alert that you can hear above a pounding rainstorm and loudly laughing kids.

And I stopped in the middle of the slick crowded parking lot
and frantically searched through my now sopping-wet purse for my phone
because IF the alarm said a tornado had been sighted.....
Well....
I was going the heck back to that safe room with my babies.

And my stupid phone said:

"FLASH FLOOD WARNING"

And I shoved it back in my purse and kept running and tried not to throw up.

And as we tumbled into the car and threw the groceries all over the drenched seat I could feel my heart literally pounding faster than I could comprehend.

Was it because I didn't have Bennett too?
Was it because it was a genuinely scary situation?
Was it because the moon was in the 7th house and Jupiter aligned with Mars?????

I don't know.

But I know that after I slowly drove home (via Shake's and I didn't even get anything because my stomach hurt so badly) and parked the kids in front of only the dear Lord knows what on TV....

I needed to sit down, closed my eyes, and just breathe some deep shaky breaths for a few minutes.

Maybe there is possibly some PTSD involved.
But I guaran-dang-tee you it's not just me.

I read THIS ARTICLE in our newspaper that said the combination of events last week (Moore, our tornado anniversary, bad storms and sirens here) resulted in a larger group of residents requesting mental health assistance than has happened since the year (or so) after our tornado.

It also said that just because you are aware of the weather conditions and take precautions....
it doesn't mean you have some severe post-traumatic issue.

It just means you've learned your lesson.

Lesson learned.
Gratitude in place.

I was working on a blog post about how I thought the Moore, OK tornado affected Joplin.

My ideas included some things like:

--Because we've recently been thorough such an eerily similar situation....we are in the strange position of being able to anticipate what they will need right now and in the near future.
--Because of this, we are able to offer a special kind of help.
--This help is a true blessing TO US....because it helps us turn our focus to healing someone else instead of dwelling on what happened here.

While I think all of this is still true....today showed me that we, as a city, may still have some healing to do ourselves.

So....WHAT'S my point in writing this out?

I guess it's just this:
Be gentle.
Be soft to people.
It's been two long years....but sometimes scars re-open.
People might still need to tell "their story".
Let them.

And maybe buy them some Shake's.
Or a latte.

Because I heard those help.

When the Words Won't Come.....

I sit here this morning,
a day before the two-year Joplin tornado anniversary,
and my heart is completely broken for the town of Moore, Oklahoma.

We rushed to the basement last night when the sirens blared here.
We hunkered down and watched the radar
and checked facebook
and poured over our phones
and flipped through news channels on the tv
and listened to the sirens go off two more times.

Then, when we had an "all-clear",
We calmly
safely
easily
dry-ly
cleanly
walked out of the basement.

Everything was fine here.

Completely fine.

But as I stood outside later that evening...
and looked at the super pink sky reflecting off the strangely patterned clouds....

It was very hard to feel any relief.

All I could feel was a sick sick wrenching in my stomach.

I remember when the skies had lightened May 22, 2011.
I remember looking around and thinking.....
well.....
maybe I wasn't really even capable of thought at that point.

But I remember a feeling of incredulity
mixed with fear
mixed with gratitude
mixed with nausea
mixed with relief
mixed with desperation
mixed with sadness
mixed with panic
mixed with confusion
mixed with exhaustion.

I think I know how the people in Moore were feeling right then.
I remember....and I find no relief in my safety.

Right now they are running on pure adrenaline.
They are frantically trying to find some way....
however small....
to uncover some kind of piece of "normal".

Something that can serve as a type of cornerstone to attach their spinning-out-of-control lives to RIGHT NOW.

It might be an intact dinner plate.
Or a neighbor.
Or a pet.
Or a picture in a cracked frame.

Something that can serve as an anchor....
irregardless of how small...
to a sense of what WAS just 12 hours ago.

What I can NOT imagine is this.
Learning that the child you have so frantically searched for....
is now on the other side of heaven.

I know how it feels to be scared that you child (and nephew) could be gone.
I know how it feels to have people searching for them.
I even know how it feels to loose the ability to pray actual words....and just cry out from the most hollow empty scary place deep inside, "GOD....GOD" because all you can say is His name.

But my arms were eventually filled with the precious living squirming crying beautiful filthy bodies of two 7 year olds.

Oh my heart.

Father,
God,
I know that You are with your children in Oklahoma.
I know You have stayed by their sides and are there now...even if it is hard for them to feel You.
Please, Lord...help them feel Your presence.
And for those who can't find the strength or words to pray right now....
I thank You that You hear the cries of their hearts.  
For them I pray....
Heal the hurt.
Keep the rescuers safe.
Strengthen the parents and families searching and mourning.
You make beautiful things out of the ashes....
and even thought they can't see that right now...
Help them feel the strength that comes from the hope of that.
In Christ's name....
Amen.