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.

Just a Thought...

My (almost) 12 year old and I are reading the Left Behind for Teens series.


(it's not the same as the adult one...but has the same characters etc.)


One of the cool things about reading these books is Bennett's reaction.


He has been thinking up ways to reach people in our lives with the gospel.


In fact....his voluntary after school activity plan yesterday was to print out all the ways that Christ fulfilled the old testament prophesies.


(A worthy yet lofty goal....and one that was actually lost to the distraction of Sponge Bob and a tennis lesson.....)


He is a good kid.


A good good kid.


And his goal is a good good goal.


Sharing the truth is easy.


IF you are sharing it will people who believe the same things you do.


Sharing it with people who think you're annoyingly crazy (or cute but misled) is a little harder.


Sharing it with people whom you love dearly and are very close with who STILL think you're a mostly harmless nut-job is harder yet.


Because when the people you love most tell you to lay off the Bible thumping.....it's very easy to back quickly away in fear of damaging relationships.


True......permanently harming relationships isn't so good.


But isn't temporary annoyance worth a permanent good??


Probably totally completely yes.


But when someone is TOTALLY not receptive....you may have to back away.


Doesn't mean you stop praying though.


I found a passage in my bible that made me think of this.
My pastor had given us some neat ideas about it....and it made me think of some people in my life.


It's Mark 9:14-29 basically.

In this passage, a man (perhaps not even a believer in Jesus....just a desperate dad looking for some help) comes to Jesus to find a cure for his child.  His son has a "mute spirit" that  " Throws him down, he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid."
This man asked the disciples for help, but they couldn't do anything. 
Then Jesus came on the scene and took over.
He said, "Bring him to Me."

When the child was brought to Him, he immediately fell down and had a huge awful enormous convulsion.
Jesus had a brief medical history conversation with the dad, then told him, "If you CAN believe, all things are possible to him who believes."

Here the father cried out (with, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful statements in the bible), "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"  
And note....the bible says that this utterance was given "WITH TEARS."


(To me....those tears show not only his complete desperation...but also his profound sincerity.)
And guess what? 
Jesus healed him.


So here's the thing.

Jesus said "BRING HIM TO ME."
That's key.  
Anyone we know under the sway of Satan.....BRING 'EM TO GOD EVERYDAY IN PRAYER....but be prepared because odds are....that on their way TO Christ....things will get worse before they get better.
The convulsions, or argument, or whatever huge obstacle is keeping this person from being whole in God WILL GET WORSE.

Then notice this:  
The dad wanted so very very very much to believe....but he had doubts.
He had honest true real doubt.

He felt in his heart that Christ could do it....
But his head was telling him that it was impossible.
Impossible, ridiculous, and even just some silly little pipe dream with the whole purpose of giving himself (the dad) hope that there was ever a chance for curing his son.

But....
the disciples couldn't do a thing for the boy.

How crushing.

But....(the man must have hoping yet not hoping yet wanting to hope yet afraid to hope yet hoping yet not willing to be crushed yet hoping....)
Maybe the LEADER of the disciples could do something.

So.....
the dad made a conscious decision to take a leap of faith.
A leap IN FRONT of the crowds.
A public whole-hearted leap....even though he really was not confident it would be a leap with a soft landing.

"Help me with my unbelief!"

And Jesus ALWAYS has compassion to honest doubt.
And He did.
And the boy was healed.

The dad had his son back....and his son was WHOLE.

Now that's a soft and wonderful landing....if you ask me.

So I am thinking here....
We have people in our lives (and I think we maybe sorta know who they are!))) that we think may NEVER EVER EVER NEVER come to believe in God.

In a way that's right.
They will never come by OUR doing.

BUT....if we keep bringing them before Him in prayer.....
Well....
God DOES answer prayer.

When it gets worse (such as this person publicly declaring their disbelief on facebook  or refusing to read the bible with you or walking away the minute you start talking....).....then they are feeling the presence of God.

They know He is close....and they don't like that scary conviction.

That's when we don't give up.

That's when we go ALL OUT....and take a leap.


Just thinkin'.........that's all.

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 justify get 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.

Bonus With Purchase...

Today the kids were angrily under the threat of permanent grounding and or/beatings cheerfully helping me clean the house.

Bennett was working in his room and Carolyn "popped in" to check on him.
While in there....she apparently decided that he was not doing things the way that SHE wanted him to do them....and let him know.

Big brother told her to mind her own beeswax and clean her own room.

That didn't go over well with Mrs. Clean.

She promptly marched over to him, yelled something unintelligible, and began smacking him.

(for what?  for not cleaning his room in the prescribed order she had in her head?  I soooooo don't understand girls...)

Bennett.....knowing he would be better off homeless then having laid a hand on his little sister....promptly called for parental back-up.

"Carolyn?!?!"   I hollered upstairs.  "Come here please!"

"I'M SOOORRRRRYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"
(imagine this in a very wavering shrieky sobby voice.)

"Carolyn.....come down here right now please."

"I SAID I'M SOOOORRRYYYYYYYY!!!!!!"
(again in the snotty crying loud voice.)

"And I said come down here.  Now."

So she did.

Let me explain though.

She didn't just prance down the stairs.

She came STOMPING and POUNDING and SOBBING and DROOLING and WAILING and SHRIEKING and SMASHING down the stairs.

"Carolyn....why are you crying?"

"BECAUSE I HIT BENNNNEEEEETTTTTTTTT!"

"Umm....did it hurt your hand or something?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Then.....why are YOU crying?  You chose to hurt your brother.  He's the one who got smacked.  He should be crying, not you."

"BUT I HIT HIIIMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!"

"Umm....yes.  I know that.  So why are YOU crying?"

I won't bother to share the rest of the slightly crazy repetitive bewildering conversation with you.
Suffice it to say....that by the end of it,  I was ready for a stiff drink my deduction was as follows:

1.  Carolyn was crying because she realized she had done something wrong and was a bit concerned about the possible punishment
2.  Carolyn felt bad that she had "hurt" her brother.
3.  Carolyn felt like she couldn't apologize enough to make things right.

Now while all 3 of these reasons definitely played a part in my five-year-old's great despair....I suspect that for her, reason #1 was the leading cause of the hysterics.

Makes me think though.

When I have wronged someone.....
when I truly know beyond all shadow of a doubt that I am the cause of someone else's pain...
I am the kind of person who won't stop apologizing.

Seriously.
I will sincerely say "I'm sorry" over and over again....because I truly feel bad AND the other person's acceptance of my apology doesn't make ME feel better.

Because.....if I have hurt someone else....it's THEIR job to make me feel ok.
Right?

(makes about as much sense as the reasons behind Carolyn's whacking episode)

Now listen.
I DO feel sorry for whatever I did.
It's not ALL about ME feeling better....
It's also that I want the other party to feel better too.

And granted.....
We all know people who require 3 or 4 or 8 apologies and a few drops of blood before they will bestow forgiveness.

(And yes....I realize that forgiveness is not something anyone is entitled to....that it's the option of any injured party to make a personal decision based on whatever they want.  And that some things that happen are so so bad that forgiveness may be a long time in coming.  But here....I'm just talkin' in general about small incidents or misdoings that are slightly wounding and perhaps even accidental....)

But other people have the huge hearts that allow them to forgive.
Forgive and oftentimes forget.

And those are the people that you feel the worst about wounding....if you know what I mean.

There are times when we mess up.
We say something without thinking.
We act by habit instead of by intellect.
We react without considering our actions.
We smack our siblings for indeterminate reasons.

And we feel bad.
Really bad.
So bad that we know we probably don't deserve forgiveness.
So bad that even if the other person forgives us...
....we don't really allow them that privilege.
We don't accept the forgiveness....
...because we just plain don't deserve it.

Truth?
We don't deserve it.

If I have done something wrong....
then I deserve to reap the consequence.

No one is entitled to forgiveness.

Forgiveness is something that's given by the goodness of someone else's heart.

Can you guess where I'm going with this?

I mess up.
Lots.
Sometimes it's accidental......
But mostly it's due to my selfishness.

I am human.....yes.
But I have free will.
And I use it.

I am soooo beyond nowhere near perfect that there is no absolute way I deserve to (or have ANY right to) be anywhere near someone who IS perfection.

I certainly don't deserve forgiveness when I continue to mess up day after day after minute after hour.....

But I got it.
I am forgiven.

God said I am.
He said that if I'm sorry....
If I truly try to turn my back on what I've done wrong....
If I ask Him for forgiveness....
.....then I got it.

But only because HE chooses to give it to me.
Not because I deserve it.

That's kind of a really hard pill to swallow.

It's hard to accept that gift of a "fresh start"
or a "clean slate"
when I know I don't deserve it.

But here's the deal.

When I accepted that Jesus was God....
When I asked Him to take over my life....
When I admitted that only He could remove the stains of sin from my life....

...I also had to learn to understand that forgiveness is HIS right.
Not mine.

It's almost easier to realize that God is Jesus was man is God....
then to truly humble myself and accept the free gift of undeserved forgiveness.

Because that's what it is.
A gift that comes with faith.
Bonus with purchase....if you will.

All these magazines and talk shows talk about "Learning how to forgive yourself".

I don't know if that's really what's important.

I think that it's more essential to accept forgiveness...and then you feel loved and forgiven.
Isn't it better for me to have God's approval than my own?

Part of Carolyn's consequence was to apologize to Bennett.
As she tearfully came down the stairs the second time she quietly whimpered,
"I'm sorry, Bennett."

And he looked up at her and said, "It's OK."
And he held open his arms.
And she ran into them and cried while he hugged her.
And she felt forgiven.
And loved.
And good.

Maybe it's harder to accept forgiveness than an apology.

I need to learn to do that.
To run INTO His arms instead of just bowing my head and feeling unworthy.
Because feeling forgiven and loved and good is....

Good.

So here's my "song of the blog day" for this entry.

"Running to your arms" it says.
Not "stomping sobbing drooling wailing".....
just "running."

It's easier that way.
Cleaner too.

Bookmarks....

I wish I had the technological savvy to make a song play during a certain blog.

If I could....I would totally have THIS TUNE going when you clicked on this entry.

(Oh well.
Nice thought.
Not gonna happen.)

This morning I awoke at 4 to RH's alarm going off.
And off.
And off.
And off.

When I finally forced myself to open my eyes, I realized I was alone in the bedroom.
I rolled out of bed, turned off the alarm, and located my spouse in the kitchen.

I sweetly ensured he was awake, and went back to bed.

At 4:30 I awoke to RH's phone alarm going off.
And off.
And off.
And off.

I lovingly and kindly picked his phone up and gently tossed it over the balcony to its violent demise into RH's hands.

I went back to bed.

At 4:58 I awoke to RH slamming into the bedroom exclaiming,
"Both of our cars were broken into last night."

Yeah.
Apparently all of our stuff is strewn all over the driveway.
I haven't been out to look yet.....too dark for me.
And they got into our storage/bike closet thingy.
Who knows what was stolen at this point?

At 5:12 I stumbled downstairs to discover a moderately loud hissing-running noise coming from under the kitchen sink.

I don't see any water.....yet.
I suspect it's coming though.

So I poured myself a gi-normous cup of coffee and sat down with my bible.

As I was paging through it to Proverbs....
I felt that strangely familiar "lump" under a page.

Yup.
Almost 11 months later.
(and I seriously DO read this book and go through the pages lots!!!)
I found a big 'ol chunk of dried up leaf and some black pebbly things that appear to be shingle residue.

So I naturally begin to read what my "debris bookmark" is delineating for me.....which is once again, in Psalms.

Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name!
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget not all His benefits:
Who forgives all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases,
Who redeems your life from destruction,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies,
Who satisfies your mouth with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.


Psalms 103:1-5

Ahhhh.
Bless the Lord....because I AM BLESSED.

I have an early start on my day....
I can hear the birds singing....
I have hot coffee....
I remembered to bring in my purse last night....
We both forgot to lock our cars so no windows were broken....
I have 3 beautiful kids to pack lunches for....
I have hot coffee...
I get to have lunch at the mall with my 2nd grader's class today....
I have hot coffee....

And ABOVE all that?

God loves me.
He's healed me.
He's forgiven me.
He gives me mercy.
He fills my life with good good things.....

....I just have to remember to slow down, "feel for the bookmarks"....and notice those good things.

It is a beautiful day.

I am looking forward to figuring out the "renewed youth" part though....
and to uncovering exactly WHAT is going on under my sink.

Anyone know a good plumber who can help me with that?

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.)