About Last Night

Ok.

Let's talk about the storm last night.

It was loud.
It was windy.
It was strobe-light-esque.
It was violent.
It was yucky.

In my fishbowl home there are two large (and by large I mean 4 ft by 5 ft) curved windows on our staircase landing.

These windows are actually made of some kind of plexi-glass...although I'm ashamed to admit that it took me seven six several a few months to realize this.

So when plexi-glass meets a hard hard wind....it does this wavy-reverberation thing.

(think of a sound effect where someone waves a huge piece of flimsy sheet metal in the air as fast as they can to create the sound of a water buffalo stampede)

Enter 60-70 mph gusts.

Pretty much sounds like it's thundering inside.

Add to that the fact that when the wind blows horizontally the rain actually comes IN these windows and swamps the landing.

Add to that the fact the indoor windstorm makes all of the pocket doors in the house (and trust me....there are bunches of those) especially the one to our bedroom rattle rattle RATTLE in their pockets.

Add to that our copper roof which is DIRECTLY over the upstairs rooms (think: no attic space at all) and imagine how gi-normous raindrops and various twigs and branches and possibly sad little squirrels and raccoons sound when they CRASH onto it right over your head.

End result?

A beautiful indoor concert featuring the sounds of hell's gates.

In my humble opinion, anyway.

So the heavy winds started a little before 8 o'clock.

Carolyn passed out like a frat daddy at Mardi Gras went to sleep peacefully around then....and I cranked up her sound machine hoping she'd sleep through the noise.

The boys turned their lights out around 8:30.

Then our little game of "Whack-a-Mole" began.

8:39:  Ethan.  Complains of lumps and itches in head.  RH removes 2 ticks.  That's a whole different layer of yuck.

8:53:  Ethan.  Complains that he fell asleep (in the 2 minutes he was in there) and woke up and can't sleep.  Sent back to room with sheep-counting instructions.

9:09:  Bennett.  Requests 10 more minutes of reading time because he's not tired.  Request granted.

9:11:  Ethan.  Requests more reading time because Bennett is reading.  Request granted.

9:20:  Ethan.  Can't sleep.  Sheep instructions repeated in a louder voice.

9:29:  Bennett.  Can't sleep because Ethan is counting too loudly.  Sent back to room with "pillow-over-head" instructions.

9:49:  Bennett and Ethan:  "Can we PLEASE PLEASE read for a few more minutes because we are SOOOO not tired and we both want to read and we just can't sleep and we really can't fall asleep PLEASE can we just have ten minutes?"  Sent to bed with apples and 10 minute reprieve BUT accompanied with instructions that unless they're bleeding or puking I don't want to see them until morning.

As they went back to bed Ethan looks over his shoulder and says, "If you need me I'll be in my bottom bunk tonight....not my top."
(note:  running along side his top bunk is an enormous (6 ft by 2.5 ft) window)

Me:  "Why not the top where you always sleep?"

(sounds of winds roaring and whipping in background)

Ethan:  "I just think the bottom is a better place for me tonight."

(more wind)

Me: (pause) "Are you nervous about the storm?"

Ethan: "NO!  NO!  I just like that bunk tonight."

And they ran off to their room. 

And I imagined Ethan looking out of that huge window and the trees bending over in the gusts while the motion lights flick on and off and quietly climbing down the ladder to the "view-less" bottom bunk.


And yeah...
I teared up.

When I went in to check on them after 10 minutes and they were both asleep....cuddled up with all of their childhood animal friends.

So I turned their sound machine way up and headed for my bed.

And my phone buzzed with a severe weather warning.

And the TV began reporting possible tornadoes in Lebanon, Missouri.

And RH and decided that if the sirens went off I would grab Carolyn and he would get the boys.

And my phone buzzed again.

And more warnings came across the local news.

And I cracked a window so I could hear the siren if it sounded.

And the windows rattled.

And both dogs (who never come upstairs) circled our bed over and over again.

And Joplin came under a tornado watch.

And RH fell asleep...confident in my ability to neurotically and psychotically keep tabs on the weather situation and awaken him in time to lead him to safety...exhausted after a 11 hour day at work.

And I checked facebook where so many of my Joplin friends were posting about
...how very sleepless their nights were proving to be
...and how many of them had shaking kids in their beds
...and how some of them had kids AND dogs in their beds
...and how some were thinking about how awful this spring was going to be
...and how some were mad that they couldn't enjoy thunderstorms anymore
...and how the ones in the FEMA trailers felt like they were in shaking tin cans.

And I watched TV/checked my phone/observed facebook until the storms finally passed over around midnight.

Then I checked the kids one more time, mopped up the small lake on my landing, and fell asleep.

But here's the deal.

I wasn't really scared of being hit by a tornado.

(No....I don't so much want that to happen...but that wasn't what kept me wide-eyed and rigidly awake.)

It was more that I didn't want to MISS THE WARNING.

I didn't want to "not hear" a siren because the sound was masked by the storm outside (or noise inside) of my house.

I didn't want to miss that "freight train" noise because I'd drifted off.

I wanted to be READY.

(Cocked, locked and ready to rock....as my RH says...)

You see...if the watch became a warning,
if the noise got constant and louder,
if I myself saw a "hook" in the storm pattern...

Then I could take control of the situation.
Wake up RH and scoop up kids and head to the basement.

But if I missed the warning....

Ugggggh.

You see....

I know that God kept us safe last May.
He has a plan for us....and that plan is good.

I fully believe that He can and will keep us safe should we face another tornado.
I don't doubt His power....not even the tiniest bit.

But maybe I put too much stock in my control?

I mean....if He's going to keep us on this side of eternity for a while...
Then it doesn't really make a difference if I hear the train-a-comin' or not.

Right?

Logically?
Yes.

Emotionally?
Hard.

I know how it felt to not be able to physically keep my babies safe (see this blog)...
And that was sickening.

But I also know how amazing it felt to turn my baby completely over to God...
And that was beautiful.

Control, let go.  Grab it up, put it down.

Tug-of-war between my faith and my human-ness.

And I'm embarrassed to say that last night....my mortal self won.

Do I think it's wrong to be prepared and on alert?

Absolutely NOT.

God gave us early warning systems and radar for a REASON.

But being so scared that I won't be able to save my children that I manically scroll between 4 forms of technology (as well as staring out of various windows while I am praying) for several hours until I notice that my shoulders actually hurt because I'm so tense?

Maybe a little?

I'm not sure about this.

Even the Israelites set guards up around their camps to warn of invasions, right? 
( I think I've read that somewhere...)

Maybe it's my mind-set that was the problem.

I was genuinely bona-fide-ly truly freakishlyworried about not being able to help my kids.

I think that maybe if I work on being prepared WHILE AT THE SAME TIME finding a peace that He is in control of the whole situation (not just whether or not we're going to get whacked) might bring me to the correct mental compromise.

I'm going to work on that.

It's not that I mind being the sole sentry while my husband and kids sleep peacefully (and how in the Sam heck they do that with that NOISE is beyond me) trusting in me to alert them to any dangers....

It's not that I mind getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep...

It's not even that I mind cleaning up a swamp on my stairs.

But I could do without the adrenaline rush from such a heightened sense of worry.
(That rush will keep you awake long after the storm is over,  I tell you.)

God loves my children even more than I can possibly imagine loving them.

He has plans for them....GOOD PLANS.

I am not privy to those plans....but I gotta trust that.

God gave me the job of looking after these kids while they're here on earth....however long that may be.

So I will do the best I can.

And I will trust Him to do the rest.

And I will probably keep on watching the radar on stormy nights...
And stay signed up for weather alerts on my phone....
And keep my emergency box in the basement well stocked.

But I will turn off facebook.

(Maybe.)

A Different Kind of Same...

So I guess that yesterday was the 9 month "anniversary" of May 22nd.

Strange that I didn't realize that until this morning.

To be fair...things have been pretty busy around here...

All of the males have been sick and are on antibiotics...
I spent Tuesday traveling to Kansas City for my follow up (all good thank you God!)...
I couldn't carry a bag of groceries by myself until yesterday...
The dog impaled himself on a wire fence...
Homework and tests...
Basketball and tennis...
Coordinating a visit from Watoto....
Life blah blah life blah life.....

But I guess, in the healing sense, it's good I was able to "miss" the date and not focus on it.

But you know what's interesting?

(To me, anyways...)

Yesterday after I dropped the kids off at school I decided to take a drive around our old neighborhood.

I hadn't been there for at least a month...and my friend told me that the house going up on "our" lot was making some serious progress.

So I thought I'd scope it out.

Now.
The 'hood looks 231 billion times better than it did on May 23rd.
Or June 30th.
Or even August 2nd.

Compared to a "normal" neighborhood though.....
Well....
It still looks like it's been through some hideous traumatic event.

(imagine that)

Yes...there are quite a few houses that are finished and beautiful...
But they sit next to dirt-filled lots scattered with home-remains.

And the trees...
That's just sad.

So many are gone....and so many of the remaining ones are...well....

I think a lot of us have learned to identify a tree that has been through a tornado.
It's easy to tell if they're laying on the ground or have beautiful metal garland (made from bumpers or stair railings or only the dear Lord knows what) laced through them....

But even the "undecorated" ones aren't "normal" looking.

They are standing, but many be leaning weirdly.
They have some branches, but they are cut off close to the trunk.
There may be some "twigs" coming off, but they are obviously new

I don't know if I'm describing this very well....but if you've seen these trees, you know what I mean.
They are a very obvious sign that  MR. EF-5 WAS HERE!!!!

Anyway...that's what my the old neighborhood is full of.

Then there's "my" lot.

They are building it on the concrete footprint of our house...so it's sort of similar in shape...almost.
And it's in the same yard...almost.
And it's in the same neighborhood.....almost.

In other words....it's ALMOST the same, but it's some kind of weird alternate reality where things are similar enough to the original that you can recognize them...but different enough that you know it's NOT the same so you end up feeling...

Well...

Unsettled.

It's like when I walked into the "new" (and by new I mean completely rebuilt after the original was completely destroyed) Chick-Fil-A or the "new" Walmart.

It was familiar...it was the same store....but it wasn't the same place.

The flowers were on the tables....but they were different colors.
The greeter was at the door...but the door had moved to the right a few feet.
The produce section aisles were slanted...but in the opposite direction.

Unsettling.

So as I sat in my car and stalked took a quick peek at the house going up....
...I felt unsettled.

Where Bennett's windows should have been was only a roof...
....but the garage windows were the same.
Where our big bay window used to be was a blank wall....
....but the walk-out door was the same.
Where Ethan's whole room should have been was obvious attic-only space....
...but the front steps were still there.
Where the 3-trunked birch tree stood was now a 2-trunked tree....
....but it was in the right spot.
Where we once had a great backyard was mud and trash and no fence....
...but the deck door still opened up right to it.

And then there were the neighbors houses.

The ones that are completely gone....well...I'm almost used to that look.

But the ones that have been "repaired"...

Again.

They are almost the same, but they are not.
They are half siding instead of all brick...
or they are black instead of tan...
or they are stone instead of stucco.

It's the "almost-sameness" of them in the background of the "almost-mine" house that just completely throws me off.

I mean....
My exact same mailbox is there.
My house isn't.
My forsythia are blooming.
My entire garden is missing.

I will tell you that it IS a comfort to see A structure on that once-razed lot.
And I am sure it will be a beautiful house enjoyed by a wonderful family.

But I guess it was just a little bit of a shock to my system to see it be so similar/different to ours.

Maybe when we have our "forever home" that I can work on making into a real
real
true
real
HOME for us I won't have that "unsettled" feeling.

I know and feel and believe that our family is rooted in Christ...and that (as the song says):

On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand.

I do know this.

But I also have realized that I like making an earthly HOME for my family.

And since we aren't investing (financially emotionally time-wise) into our temporary place....I can't do that now.

Haven't been able to for a while.
(9 months and a day, in fact)

And that's ok.
Really.

But I am seriously looking forward to settling somewhere.

I would be such a bad wandering gypsy.

So...after all this rambling....I still think it's kind of interesting:

That I went back to the house on the 9 month anniversary.
That I came away feeling comforted andunsettled.
That I didn't drive straight to Shake's.

And maybe that's why...as I was driving past the ponds in front of our old neighborhood yesterday and saw all the yellow and orange-vested people cleaning out the tornado debris from the water...I didn't cry.

And maybe that's why...as I drove down 20th street today and saw strips of sheet metal wrapped around a tree....I did cry.

Healing is an up-and-down journey.
Make sure your seat belt is cinched tightly.

Moments and anniversaries and reminders will happen....
And they may surprise you.

You may find yourself crying when you find a piece of insulation-mixed-with-leaves in your jewelry box.
You may discover that you're unable to sleep when the winds are gusting.
You may decline buying a new purse and throw your friends into complete shock because you've discovered that you only need one.
You may realize that YOU can't sleep at night without giving your kids "one more hug".
You may find you have to leave a conversation in tears when someone re-tells a tornado story.
You may find you have to leave a conversation in tears when someone complains about stupid trivial issues.
You may find yourself sobbing at The Incredibles (see this blog post) or Star Wars movies (or this post).

It's ok, I guess.

Learning how to handle these completely random and unexpected emotional "slaps" will certainly help us learn how to deal with our teenagers one day.....right?

Healing and growing, I think, happen together.

And they are both good things.

Ad I don't think it's wrong to want to be settled in our "earthly" life....
as long as my root reaches a lot lot lot deeper.

And I think that Shake's was meant for anniversaries...
and since I kind of missed yesterday....
I can go have some tonight.

Hole Hearted...

Sometimes we have a LOT going on.

Sometimes it's all fun and hectic and busy and crazy and good.

Sometimes it's nothing but  MONSTER WAVES that aren't so helpful.

Sometimes maybe it's a combination?

I believe that the "not-so-good" things are often-sometimes-always the things that I HAVE to thank God for.

Those are the things that grow me.
Sharpen me.
Refine me.

And...believe it or not (insert self-depracating smile here)...apparently I need some serious refinement.

There's a song my friend Tiffany introduced me to called Blessings.

(such an amazing song....so worth your time to click on it and check it out...)

The chorus says:

What if your blessings come through teardrops?
What if your healing comes through tears?

What a beautiful poignant idea.

Sometimes it's only when you're bowed over....
Sometimes it's only when you can't even see through your tears....
Sometimes it's only when you truly realize what can be lost...

...that your faith and dependence and love for God can fill you and go all the way through you.

Then....
when we can truly find that eternal perspective....
those painful thorns can become amazing blessings.

SO I choose to see my procedure this Friday as a blessing.

This procedure is one of those "never-thought-it-would-happen-to-me" kind of things.

But hey...didn't many of use experience that last May?

(((Note to self....whenever I hear the phrases: "slim possibility" or "small chance" or "very low probability" I should automatically brace myself for what's 100% DEFINITELY coming my way.)))

Anyway....Friday morning I have a hot date in Kansas City with a highly respected surgeon who is going to close a pesky little hole in my heart.

Once this patch is in place (and it will be done via my femoral vein) I should have a waaaaay lessened risk of a recurrent stroke.

Yeah, that's right.
Stroke.
Mini one.
Called a TIA.
Back in August.

Apparently it's not a normal good thing to loose all feeling in exactly one half of your body while making your bed.
And it's surely not normal to pay an emergency visit to a neurologist at Memorial Hall (which was partitioned off by shower curtains) because your hospital was attacked by a tornado.
And it's definitely a rare experience to have an MRI in a tent MASH unit.
Then follow all of that up with many many many tests (in 3 different states) in which you are told "it probably isn't....we doubt we'll find....it's very rare that...." and give everyone a good old fashioned surprise.

It is.
It was.
Get me a lottery ticket please!!

My dad and stepmom are coming in town this week.  My dad will go with me to KC and my amazing stepmom will hold down the fort here.

I've told my kids that I have to have a little patchwork done and tried to get them really pumped up about their grandparent's visit.

I'll stay one night in the hospital and be home some time Saturday.

Then we'll see what the recovery is like.

The nurse said that I couldn't do housework for a week.
I'm sure she meant to say a month.

So....what have I learned from this latest season in my life?

(Besides brushing up on my knowledge of cardiac circulation, patent foramen ovales and Amplatzer devices?)

Any semblance of control in this life I once thought I had is an illusion.
My house,
my home,
my children,
my finances,
my health...

None of them are really under my control.

I have to let go.
I have to stop grabbing for them.
I have to realize that only God
only God
Only God
ONLY GOD
has control over all of this.

And you know what I'm so happy about?

He is SO MUCH better at EVERYTHING than I am.

At the risk of making a huge understatement:
it really truly is better for Him to be in charge because He really knows what He's doing.

The lot is cast into the lap,
But it's every decision is from the Lord.
Proverbs 16:33


"The horse is prepared for the day of battle,
But deliverance is of the Lord."
Proverbs 21:31


These verses bring me such a sense of relief.
At the end of the day....
He's got it under control.

So I've got a hole in my heart.
So my blood really likes to go through the hole.
So it likes to flow both ways.

None of this is a surprise to God.
He made me like this....
He gave me tests and doctors and a father who know a way to fix it...
He knows what's best for me and my family...
He knows how to love my children better than I could ever even try...

It's all good.
It's all going to be good.

Giddy up.

Remember THIS SONG??
(go ahead, click it, you know you want to!)

It's become my (Ally McBeal-ish to date myself)  in-my-head-constantly-personal-theme-song.

It's funny. 
Admit it.
In a twisted sort of way.

But hey....if the hole shoe fits......

:)

Don't Get Stuck....

I am certain that New Year's Day brings about TONS of declarations and posts and tweets and heaven only knows what other kinds of statements regarding resolutions and things everyone wants to do in the coming year.

I don't really want to do that in my blog today.

(Happy New Year, anyway.)

Sure....we did our family resolutions before going to bed at 10:15 (because....as we told the kids....we celebrate New Year's on Berlin time) and drank sparkling apple juice and ate gooey butter bars....we aren't total grinches.  

One thing we did do that I thought was cool was kind of Ethan's idea.

You see...a few years ago Ethan asked to make two cakes for New Year's Eve.
He wanted to decorate one that was a "good-bye to 2007" theme,
and make the other a "hello to 2008" cake.

So we did.

This year he asked to do the two-cake-thing again.

Fine.

But then we sent one of the cakes to my sister-in-law's get-together and ended up with only one cake at the house.

(And in all honesty....I really didn't want to mix frosting and do intricate time-consuming memorial decorations.)

So we switched it up a bit.

The kids, RH, my mom and I made little paper flags.

Then everyone drew or wrote about what they were saying good-bye to in 2011 on the first side, and what they were looking forward to in 2012 on the other side.

With a little scotch tape and some chopsticks the pieces of paper turned into flags.

We took turns explaining our drawings for both years....

....then ate cake (yes....before we ate the gooey butter bars) and moved on.

(You might notice that while most of the flags include a tornado theme for 2011, only Bennett's includes a political commentary as well.  Again....who is this kid?!?)

Moving on is good.  

It's nice to move on.

Seriously.

But...( and you KNEW that a "but" was going to be coming here...)

isn't it strange how even when you REALLY want to move on....

you also don't really want to let go?

Kind of like....if you really and completely move on and get past something....

you might somehow forget what it is you're getting past?

And while no one wants to become totally enmeshed in and re-live tragic points of their lives....there exists a very real fear of forgetting the true enormity of the event that has contributed to the person you are (and the world you live in) today.

I am reading a book my mom gave me for Christmas called The Beach Trees by Karen White.  

It takes place in New Orleans and there are many references to Katrina and what she did to the city.

The main character is from out-of-town and is having a hard time understanding why...6 years later... residents are still talking about the storm and have memorial pieces of "Katrina trees" and debris all over the city.

She thinks that people would be happier just getting rid of all the "left-overs and scars" and just focusing on the good things and the future.

A lady from New Orleans takes her to a memorial site, and this main character is very uncomfortable being there and asks the lady why she brought her there.   

The lady explains: "I wanted you to understand that moving on doesn't mean forgetting."

Yeah.

Don't forget.

Don't let the events of May 22nd....and the months following....lose their meaning.

Don't let the memories control your life...but don't be afraid to remember them.

I don't think God makes beauty  out of disaster so that we can forget the disaster.

I think He does it to show us how high He can make us rise after we fallen to a rocky bottom.

And if we forget how low and bad and hard and scary that "bottom" was....

then how can we realize how magnificent and amazing our new heights and perspectives truly are?

Last night, between the flags and the butter bars, Bennett shared something with us.

He has a devotional book called Jesus Callingwhich has a little "note" that Jesus might have written to you for each day of the year.

On May 22, here is what the "note from God" said:

When things are not going your way, don't panic--accept the situation.  Feeling sorry for yourself can easily spill over into feelings of resentment and anger.  Thant can cause you to push away from me.

Remember that I use all things to work together for good in your life--even the things you wish were different.  So accept your situation, and then look around you for what I am doing.  Keep your eyes on Me--no matter what is happening around you...

I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  But sometimes it can be hard for you to understand My way of doing things in this life.  It's easy to get your mind stuck on your own idea of how things should go.  Just don't get so stuck on your idea that you forget to look for My way.

He has a way.

He doesn't say forget...He says trust Him.

It's a new year.

A symbolic new start.

I think I will choose to move forward....and focus on how good things are....as well as remembering (with utmost gratefulness) the things He's lifted me up from...to give me such beautiful perspective on my life.