A Better Base....

How do you "break-in" a house?

How do you make it "yours"?

How do you make it feel like "home"?

Some people throw parties.
Some people paint it their favorite colors.
Some people clean it with "their" cleaner so it has "their" smell.

Me?
I fill it with kids.

THAT'S what makes it fell "homey" to me.

So....after almost 6 weeks despite the fact that we still haven't found all of the "essentials" and the fact that I've forgotten to get milk for almost a week and the fact that RH has gotten a brand new 8 week old dog, and the fact that I somehow literally have more snuggies than pool towels.....
it was time.

Yesterday Ethan and Bennett had some buddies over.  While RH took the puppy and Carolyn to Duck Camp, the 5 boys and I hit the pool for a few hours, then came home to change.
Carolyn left with her cousin for the night and RH and I took the boys to dinner and to see Green Lantern.

Then the 5 of them settled down in the boys' room and talked loudly for almost 2 hours about various bodily functions and who smelled the worst for a little bit until they finally crashed.

It was a good night.

It was a GREAT night.

It was a familiar night....if that makes sense.

We all got up bright and obscenely early.

RH left for a meeting at church and I got the boys fed, the dogs fed and put out, the laundry folded, the kitchen cleaned and the yard watered.

As I was upstairs cleaning up the blankets I heard the boys all giggling.

Man....I hadn't realized how much I missed that sound.

Then I heard a couple of thumps and a loud CRASH SHATTER BANG.

No more giggling.

A little panicky whispering....but definitely no more giggling.

I climbed down off of the top bunk and in my calm collected kool-aid mother voice asked the boys what had happened.

Seems the three 11-year olds had decided that it would be a fun idea to bounce a ball off of the walls and play catch in the living room.

Seems they accidentally bounced the ball off of one of the 8 funky-70's-style sconces built-in to the wall.

Seems that aforesaid sconce shattered ALL OVER the floor, the rug, the new couch (which had come in Thursday after 4 weeks of waiting and 6 weeks of no couch at all) the carpeted built-in couch, the puppy and his padded kennel and the 7 year olds trying to calmly play Star Wars.

I must tell the truth.
Kool-aid mom began to turn into Red Bull on a bad trip mom.

As I felt the steam begin to build behind my eyes I told ALL OF them to GET OUTSIDE before I said something I shouldn't.

Then they went super quickly outside and I said MANY things I shouldn't.

Oh boy.

I was mad.

Mad MAD MAD MAD mad.

It took me almost 45 minutes to clean the entire area (and I STILL got a piece of glass in my foot later that afternoon) before I sent the boys in to get dressed for church.

You see...it wasn't just the broken light...that's happened before and it'll happen again(worse things will break too....I have sons and I get how this works!)...

It wasn't so much that they knew better (although they ALL are like my own kids and they DID)....

And it wasn't so much that they'd disobeyed or disrespected a normal obvious household rule...

All of those things....while not great.....are just part of being kids and being a mom and life.
I know those things will happen...and we can ALL learn from them and move on and no use crying over spilt milk (or broken glass) or whatever.

In retrospect....I think the reason I got SO SO SO furious is this:
That previous night and that morning....I'd started to really feel.....well.....
Grounded.
Stable.
Dare I say.....normal?

Having the kids there...
Doing what we'd always done PT....
Having an actual couch and coffee table (which I know is SO STUPID but really made me feel like a was in a real home and not some weird period-hotel)......
Bringing a gang of boys into church with us.....
Feeding a bunch of kids and smiling while I grumbled at them about how much they ate....

That was how I rolled.
That was what I used to do.
That was the same feeling as the home I'd had and made for my family.
That was the base I used as my springboard for my life.

And then a stupid light shattered.
Then there were stupid exposed wires hanging off of the wall.
Then there was glass all over our only 2 pieces of new furniture.
Then there was the knowledge that I'd have to find time to find 8 new matching lights.
Then things were starting to slightly unravel again.

And I snapped.
That's it....
I just snapped.

The "normal" I had started to feel was now hanging off of my new main wall and spilled all over the living room.

So...when the boys were trapped in a place they couldn't escape my wrath in the car I began to talk to them.

Correction.

I began to lecture them on many things.

They were silent as mice and good as gold on the ride to church...and as my anger fizzled out and their faces showed real repentance things cooled down.

I cooled down.

We had hugs all around before going into the building....and we were all ok, I guess.

But....as I should have predicted would happen....our pastor opened with a little chat about how now....6-8 weeks post tornado....is when people would begin to experience a different kind of stress.  He quoted a newspaper that explained it as (and I paraphrase liberally here) the idea that the shock has worn off and everybody is in the "Holy crud this is the new forever" mode.
Apparently this will be characterized by flaring tempers....among other things.

Hmmm.
Fine.

The pastor also said that this was the time when those in our community who did not have faith in Christ...who put their faith and hope in things of this world instead of things OUT of this world would begin to crumble as they see their world STILL crumbled around them.

Well now....I know I have that hope.
I do truly have that faith.

I think I am just having some not-so-occasional setbacks here and there.
But I tell you....the "here and there"s are coming less frequently.
Thank you, God for that.

So then I did what I probably should have done after I sent the boys outside that morning.
I thanked God for the broken light.
I thanked Him for the reminder to QUIT TRYING TO BASE MY STABILITY IN MY SURROUNDINGS.
Apparently I need frequent reminders of that.
Apparently I'm a slow learner.

One of my friends and I discussed the other day how we both felt like as we grew in Him, we were learning to lay more and more things at His feet.
We also discussed how we're apt to pick those same things back up and take them for ourselves again.

Hence the many reminders.

I DO want my "homey" home back.
I DO want that comfort level.
I DO want that coziness.

But....I don't want to NEED that in order to feel "stable".

One of the songs this morning in church said:
"Sweet Jesus Christ, my sanity....
Sweet Jesus Christ my clarity..."

THAT'S what I need to feel stable.
That's what I WANT to need.

Sure would be nice if I could take His corrections and reminders with just a little more grace and gratitude than I did today.

Proverbs tells me to not hate His corrections, because He corrects those whom He loves as a parent corrects a child.

I'm quite an impressive specimen of "child", if you ask me.

So....goals of the week for this child:
Learn not to cry over spilled milk.
AND remember not to bounce balls on walls in the living room.

I Can't Complain....

Around these here parts, people are excitedly getting ready to move into FEMA trailers.

I've heard that some of them will be quite nice.  Quite decent, anyway.

Some will have 3 bedrooms...others will have one.

BUT all will have air conditioning (which is SO IMPORTANT considering it got up to 102 today and doesn't look much better in the weeks to come...)  and running water and some sort of a space that people can call "their own."

How many families will be using these? 

I'm not sure...but quite a few I think.

The man who's in charge of our alarm systems is also partly in charge of "Tent City."

According to my buddy....there are currently over ONE HUNDRED tornado-displaced-people living in tents on a piece of private land that some kind man has given them for refuge.  

One hundred.

Among these people are infants (yup....there are pack 'n plays in those tents), families, elderly, singles, teenagers and more.   

My friend told me that a few weeks ago his group of "helpers" were able to construct a building with 2 showers and 2 toilets that the "city" has been using.

He said that there is a very organized woman living there whom they've dubbed "the mayor".  Apparently she has a few pre-paid cell phones for people to use in emergency situations.

This friend of mine emphasized the gratitude these people had for that building....for being able to stay on one piece of land....for the food and drink donations that have been coming their way.

Tents.

102 degrees.

Pack 'n plays.

Have I SERIOUSLY caught myself privately loudly often quietly grumbling about not yet having furniture?  

Have I SERIOUSLY mumbled not-so-nice words into my soft cushy pillow when RH slams frying pans into the walls and sounds like a bar-brawl makes a little noise in the kitchen (which is easy to hear because our new place only has super-70's pocket doors) when he wakes up to go into work at 4:30am?

Have I SERIOUSLY gotten frustrated to the point of tears when the back hatch on my working car finally totally broke and the kids (and groceries and boxes from the warehouse) have to go in and out through the back window Dukes-of-Hazzard style?

Ummmm.......embarrassingly enough......yes.

So as I would say to my kids....I say to myself here...

SUCK IT UP, SHANNON.

My friend and I got to go for a run and have a panting-infused chat this week.  

We were discussing perspectives....and how important they were to make us realize just how amazingly wonderfully blessed we have been.

Now wait....I've said before and I say it now....I KNOW I am blessed.

Know know know know know it.

But sometimes it's unfortunately easy to get caught up and halfway buried in the muck and mire of LIFE....and that's when perspective comes in handy.

Ok.

Being in a tornado is not such a great thing.

Having your house ripped apart while you're in it....not so great either.

Not knowing where your child and nephew and aunt and uncle are......pretty very incredibly bad.

But....I CANNOT complain.

I have my family.

All of 'em.

I have a solid home (with a basement!).

The people who are still living in hotels?  They can complain.

The people who are moving for an indefinite amount time into FEMA trailers?  They can complain.

But....people still living in shelters can complain more.

But people living in tents can complain more.

But people who are STILL RIGHT NOW in the hospital trying to fight off weird fungal infections from horrible tornado injuries can complain more.

But people who have lost friends and family can complain more.

But people who have lost their homes, jobs, and family members can complain more.

But that poor woman who lost her husband and two children in Home Depot....well....what can I even say about her?  

I pray for her daily.  

I don't know her personally....but I've heard she seems so very strong and brave....and I can't even begin to imagine how strong and brave she will have to be every second of every day for the rest of her life.

Perspective.

A blessing for sure.

Last week our pastor taught out of Luke again.  

He chatted about a verse I've heard many times....but I heard it differently this time (must have been my perspective!).

"For everyone to whom much is given, 

from him much will be required; 

and to whom much has been committed,

of him they will ask the more."

Luke 12:48

I just put 3 amazing gifts from God to bed.

I peeked in on my husband, sleeping hard because he's been working so hard at his stable business.

I am sitting in an air conditioned house.

This list could go on for pages and chapters and years.....so many things He has given me.

So many things I am thankful for.

So many things I'm guilty of griping about....ugggggh.

Time to square my shoulders....

put on my "big-girl panties".....

get my mind out of my "issues" and onto the possibilities of what I can do to help.

Directly after the tornado when we came out of the store-room, Bennett started kind of flipping out.

I remember taking his face in my hands to talk to him, but that's all I recall.

My mother-in-law says that I told him:
"That's ENOUGH, Bennett.  God kept you safe because He has a purpose for you...and that purpose is NOT to sit here and freak out.  He kept you safe because He has something for you to do....and you job is going to be to find out what that is.  Right now your job is to hold the dog and keep her safe so that Uncle John and I can go check on our neighbors."

(I don't remember saying that....but I have to say I like it.  I  am relatively sure that God let his Holy Spirit speak through me at that moment though...and I'm pretty darn grateful and in awe of that.)

So....recap of this super long rambling overly-detailed possibly-incoherent post.

Much has been given and committed to me.

God saved me for a purpose.

My job is to find it.

Random Memories I

This post isn't going to communicate a point, necessarily.

I'd mentioned before that there are lots of things I don't want to forget from this time in my life.
So...I need plan to record them here and there...every now and then...in bits and pieces...and then not re-visit them until I want to.

I've found that if I read my personal account of May 22...I start shaking.

When I talk to the people who were with me...or who were in the middle of it...I get goosebumps and start shaking.

So...I won't read what I write...for a while anyway...but I'll have it for when I want to read it.

I think it's important to have theses things....because while I keep griping and moaning and blabbering on talking about finding "normal" again...I don't want things to go back to the same "normal" as before.

I want to keep (and I want this city to keep) the new perspective that came with the EF-5.
The perspective that things are.....things, and people matter more.
The priority switch that came on May 22......the one that made all of us hold each other a little closer...grab hands in the parking lot, and hug people we don't even know.

So....as time passes on and we become "normal" again....(and by "normal" this time I mean a little more jaded, cynical, impatient and intolerant (which I know that I have been....and I don't want to be again...)) I plan to re-visit these memories and stories.

I hope it will help me re-remember my new/old/newish/ (huh?) priority system.

Or maybe I just need to get these things out of my mind and onto "paper".

Either way...they will be here.

**************************
A short time after the tornado some organization on Main St made t-shirts they were selling for $20.  $15 of the cost goes directly into Rebuild Joplin.   My sister-in-law got the kids, RH and I shirts.  They are grey and say "Restore Joplin".  The kids love them and grab them as soon as they come out of the dryer. Ethan was looking down at himself and (i guess for the 1st time actually) read his shirt.

"What does "restore" mean?"

"It means to rebuild....to try and turn something back into what it was before."

"Oh," he answered....only half-listening to me.

"I think it should say "Ruined" Joplin."

Ugggggh.

************************

When we were in my basement during the actual storm there was a time when it got lighter briefly and RH said he was going to go take a look.  I told him not to (this is all in my original account earlier in the blog so you KNOW I'm not making it up)...that it didn't "feel" right yet...and then it was dark and yucky and loud again.

At the pool this weekend my friend Kerry asked me if we had been in the middle of the tornado...if the eye had passed over us.

I told her I didn't know......that I wasn't sure how I COULD know that.

She asked me if the wind and noise ever lessened for a few seconds (4-5 is the professional meteorological estimate) and then got bad again.

I thought about it....and out came the goosebumps and full-body shakes again.

That was when Barrett said he might go upstairs.
That was when the green light came under the door again instead of pitch black.

Again....Ugggggh.
***********************************

That's all for now....but I will add more blabbering useless potentially annoying memories as they occur.

And if you want the link to the t-shirts, you can find them here.   It's a great site and a great cause.

Thanks for "listening"....but I understand if you don't want these stories.
They're pretty yucky to me, too.

Little Slice of "Normal"....

Happy 5th of July!

You know...to be honest (because there seems to be a "let me be totally honest and potentially offensive and blunt" pattern developing in my PT life), the 5th of July used to be one of my very favorite days. 

While I have always enjoyed the 4th...the awesome Americana party at RH's family's house...the lake (which we had to forgo due to an infestation of toxic blue-green algae)....the cute matching outfits on all of the kids (including mine of course)...watermelon and red white and blue desserts......I have always found myself VERY TIRED by the time the actual night of the 4th rolled around.

I love living in a town where kids (of ALLLLLLL ages) get so excited about fireworks and love shooting them off several evenings before the holiday....but I kind of sort of possibly got a bit tired of of not being able to get to sleep until close to midnight 3 or 4 nights in a row because I live in a town where kids get so excited about fireworks.

True confession. 
Makes me old and unpopular.
And grumpy.
Sorry.

So by the time the 5th comes....I am ready (and VERY grateful) for an early-ish bedtime and a full boom/crash/bang-less night of sleep.

This year.....
Well, this year was a little different.

This year, the celebrating was different.

Yes...we had sparklers and watermelon and cute matching outfits (although for some reason no one in MY family could seem to wear them at the same time and actually MATCH) and great patriotic themed food....but there was something different about all of it.

I am searching for the right word to describe this difference.....

Innocence?
Unbridled?
Joy?

Something like that, anyway.

As I've mentioned....six weeks PT things still aren't like they used to be....and these "things" include emotions.

But...last night and the previous 3 nights when we were up to un-holy hours experiencing loud loud loud explosives there was an honest-to-goodness taste of

NORMAL.

Sure, we had a great time with the kids on our weekend getaway, but all 5 of us knew that being able to order 2 desserts every night was a "celebrate being away from the disaster zone we call our hometown" treat and not real life.....

Sure we've had a wonderful company and dinner brought by dear friends but we all sat on the carpet (and by carpet I also mean the carpeted couch) and carefully avoided speaking about the fact that our real furniture was currently located under 2 tons of shingles and glass....

Sure I've taken the kids to the pool to swim but inevitably we run into "old neighbors" whom I haven't gotten to talk to since May 22nd and our discussions quickly turn to "Where-Were-You" stories....

But these last few nights have been DIFFERENT. 

For some reason, the underlying "disaster-mind" (that strange almost-physical feeling of slight pressure on every inch of your skin reminding you that life as you knew it is totally gone and you can't look back because there IS NO back) wasn't present.

Instead....there was loud laughter.
Louder (happy) explosions.
Glow bracelets on happy girls.
Glows sticks being used to smack unsuspecting friends for happy boys.
Blueberry and strawberry tarts.
Parents yelling "Don't chase your sister/brother/friend/anyone with that sparkler again!"
Filthy children....who were smiling.

Maybe the chaos and the loudness "drowned out" anything else?
Possibly.

Truthfully and unfortunately (but probably realistically) that anxiety is back this morning.

Today I woke up thinking about the stupid stupid stupid stupid inventory list I need to finish....
the insurance claims I need to sort out for furniture restoration and fixing frames of pictures that are salvageable....
the fact that the hatchback to my car is now completely broken (thanks to the rear-ending I received 3 weeks ago) and how I'm going to find the time to get that fixed....
the possibility that (according to my mom) there are still cabinets and light fixtures in my old driveway because the people from Habitat either didn't want them or forgot to come and get them.....

Just life.
Just stuff.
Just the "new normal" again.

But man.....it was so so so great to feel that "old normal" for a while last night.

In Psalm 116: 7 (which is the one marked forever by pine needles in my bible) it says:

"Return to your rest, O my soul,
For the Lord has dealt bountifully with you."

Please remind me to remember....

My soul doesn't need a "certain kind of normal" to be at rest.
My soul can (and SHOULD) rest in the certain knowledge that God has dealt bountifully with me....
has taken care of me...
has taken care of my family....
has BEYOND supplied for my needs.

Now I KNOW that this family is not going to be staying up till midnight-ish every night doing fireworks (please dear Father in heaven no no no).....
but we found some of that old-fashioned non-anxiety ridden joy last night.
It's still out there.
It comes in little slices and pieces.

I am working on praying myself into the rest God wants me to return to....
It's slow-going some days....but I think it will come.

I also think I have to get that hatch-back fixed before it squashes one of my kids.

Got a lot of work to do today......
Better pray up and get moving.

Just Fine....

Last night after putting the kids in bed, RH (who, as we know, does his very best to stay relatively unaffected by the girly emotional world) says, "It's hard to believe that THIS (gesturing around him) is our real house now."

Then as I picked my jaw off of the carpet he did a pretty good job of summing up what I have been unable to successfully put into words: "I mean, before today, we had our other house.  Even though it wasn't "ok", it was still there.  It was still our house.  I almost felt like this house was a hotel.  Not anymore though.  This is all we have now."

And with that, he turned around, walked off, and probably looked for something very manly and tough to do.

Wow.

I get it.

The sense of "home base" has been completely severed and is in the process of being re-grafted.

You see, yesterday we bulldozed the remains of the old house.

How weird does that sound/feel to say?!

There is nothing but a gi-normous pile of rubble there now.  And that will be gone today.....scooped up by some huge machine thing and thrown into a gigantic dirty black truck to be hauled off to some enormous dumping site.

End.
Finito.
Finale.
Done.

And then there will be NOTHING there.  Nothing of the house, that is.  Or the several tree stumps that the huge bulldozer thing plucked out of the ground. 

But my forsythia on the corner are there.
And my mailbox.
And the tree house (for now, until we cut it down and bring it "home").

I took one last walk around the yard as the demo crew removed all of the undamaged cabinets and everything else they thought might be usable for Habitat for Humanity.
As I rounded the house one of my dear friends showed up...sent expressly to me for a much needed boost of support and love.

We stood and talked for a moment....about our kids, life, nightmares and priorities. 

We looked at the house which was soon to be gone, and I told her that I was just fine with it.

That I knew my "home" was with my family....and that this structure in front of us was nothing but walls and a ceiling (or lack thereof!) and it was just fine to knock it down.

That the house had kept us safe, and now it was time for it to go and that was just fine.

I told her that this stupid tornado experience has helped me realize how incredibly important (and to be honest, incredibly logical and practical too) it is to root yourself in Christ...and let Him (rather than a structure) provide that sense of "home"....and that because I have Him I was just fine.

My friend looked me in the eye, and told me that she understood that I was just fine, but that it was also just fine to grieve the loss of something that had given my family a sense of home for so long.

Then the dear gal hugged me, spread her angel wings and flew off jumped back in the car with her daughter, and left.

Fine.
Just fine.

Then a ginormous metal dinosaur began eating my house...loudly smacking it's huge iron head against the brick wall (knock knock who's there?  The house monster!) until it crumbled and the neighborhood could watch RH's fancy toilet careen down into the ruined air hockey table in the basement.

Crunch.
Munch.

The sounds were eerily reminiscent of the ones we'd heard while hiding in the basement as the tornado ate it's way through the house.

My sil, RH, 2 great friends and I watched in utter shock and awe (but not really sadness....it was just too weird and surreal) as the dinosaur took something that we'd thought was so solid and utterly crumbled it. 

Now I realize that the tornado has done that to a fourth of my town....but I didn't actually SEE that happening.  I only saw the aftermath.  To SEE the destruction occurring (and occurring voluntarily) was rather bizarre, to be honest.

Once the dinosaur trainer dozer-driver had finished the side of the house he drove around the front.

Then he asked me if I'd like to do the final knock-down myself.

Yeah.  I think that would be just fine.
Interesting, even.

I climbed in, and after a brief tutorial drove the lifted grappling arm into Ethan's wall. 

Down came the bricks and the remaining dormer.

Then I backed it up, and out came his window seat with the 3 red (moldy) cushions on it.
And then I put the grappling arm into his green and blue room (that my mom and I had painted) with all of the Star Wars jedis on the walls and smashed them.
Then I backed up and watched his little spider-man lamp tumble down into the mess below.
Then I realized how hard I was crying.

The driver asked me if I was ok, and I told him I was just fine.

And I asked him if he could smell the lavender from my plants that were being crushed beneath the treads of the bulldozer.

He said it smelled nice, and I agreed and kept crying and used the dinosaur head to smash through the old wooden bookshelf that was in my kids' hallway.

Soon I climbed out because I think I was freaking the driver out a bit so the driver could re-align the machine, and let RH do the final knock-down.

Then, it was done.  My friends left.  RH left. The volunteers from Ft Worth across the street (who stopped to watch and film the demo) left, and it was just me.

I looked at the rubble pile that looked just the same as all of the rubble piles all across Joplin.

I prayed, and cried a little.

I thanked God for giving us that house to keep us safe...
for giving us such a wonderful place to call home for 7 years...
and for all of the memories we'd created in that house.

Then I thanked Him for a new place to call "home"....
for giving me my amazing family and friends to fill that home with laughter and new memories...
for staying so ever-present and faithful to me...
and for sending me someone to tell me that it was ok to be sad when I said good-bye to our old house.

Then I picked up the little "Atlanta Braves" stuffed baseball that had rolled out of the pile of bricks and insulation and furniture and glass....

and I went home to my kids.

Nothin' But the Truth.....

Ok.  The truth?

I'm annoyed at myself.

It's been FIVE weeks since the tornado......yet I still feel utterly discombobulated 80% of the time. 

My short-term memory is SHOT.

I can't remember what I went to a store to get.

I lose every flippin' list I make.

I can't get this stupid total pain in my butt excel spread sheet of all our possessions to work because the stupid program keeps shifting my "cells" (and what the heck is a flippin' cell anyway? Not what this biology major learned about!) about randomly ruining hours of work I have never done a spreadsheet before.

I have a mattress in the dining room that I can't seem to remember to take back.  A mattress.  It's big.  Hard to miss.

I started crying at Sam's when my raspberries spilled and the lady in the next check-out lane glared at me.

I take the wrong turns driving anywhere and am constantly late....and I've always prided myself on my punctuality.

For literally TWO weeks now I've forgotten EVERY DAY to call the "Furniture Rescue" place.

Anyway, I'm just not up to my PT self....and I'm annoyed.

What's the deal?  I realize 5 weeks isn't 5 years....but it's plenty long to get back in the game. 
I have a home base now.  We all have mattresses WITHOUT MOLD.  Underwear has been found (or purchased) for all of us.  I even have new Monkey Grass (thanks, Uncle Frank!) that the kids have remembered to water. 

What's it going to take to feel "settled"?

Yesterday morning my pastor taught out of Luke. 
Luke 12: 13-34, to be exact.

I'm not going to quote all of it here (although the read is soooo worth the effort!), but here are some "highlights" that really pierced my heart.

(I am doing some serious piecing and jumping around here....still quoting Luke, but in a funky way....)

(Jesus said,) " 'Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses,'.......then he said to His disciples....'Do not worry about your life, what you will eat; nor about the body, what you will put on.  Life is more than food and the body more than clothing.....if God (takes such good care of birds and grass), how much more will He clothe you, O you of little faith?

Which of you by worrying can add one day to his life?  Seek the kingdom of God, and all (other things that you think you need) shall be added to you.' "

Hmmmmmm.

You know how sometimes you think the pastor is speaking DIRECTLY TO YOU?

And other times I think, "Interesting message, but not really pertinent to my life right now." (maybe only I think that way?)

Well to be honest (again), at first I didn't feel all that "spoken to".
I am honestly truly completely sincerely totally truthful when I say I AM OK NOT HAVING MY OLD HOUSE AND STUFF. 

Seriously!

It's not just lip service......it's a sincere not-all-that-concerned feeling about those possessions of mine.
 
I'm pretty darn lucky.
I haven't had to worry about having enough food.  I have friends, family, and an insurance policy that have taken care of that.  I have clothes to cover my family.  The tornado presented a good spring cleansing, and we'll go school shopping in the fall.
Big flippin' deal.

I KNOW that God takes care of my needs.
I have seen it, experienced it, felt it, believe it.

So....this passage isn't so-much for me, right?

Well.....maybe. Maybe not.

In it, Jesus also says that worrying is not such a good or healthy or obedient past-time.
He tells me not to be anxious.

Well, I think that maybe possibly sorta.....I am not listening to that very well.

True, I'm not worried about clothing or food....but I am still very shaken.

I don't mind changing my life around....but I didn't get to make the decision to change it.
A stupid EF-5 did it for me.

And that stupid EF-5 violently ripped away the home (not the house, mind you...but the sense of "home" inside of the walls) I've worked for 15 years to create. 
It stole my organization, my summer plans, my time, my children's peaceful sleep, my joy in thunderstorms, my husband's 9 hour days, my emotional stability.......

Let me be clear....the tornado DID NOT shake my faith. 
The tornado DID shake my "normal".

Every aspect of it.
I said to RH--if someone grabs your torso and violently shakes you...you can't expect your hand to be able to write smoothly and legibly no matter HOW good your muscle control might be.  (I'm actually kinda proud of that analogy....)

But...and let's be honest AGAIN....the Bible doesn't say that "you can't worry about clothes, but anxiety over your normal life being torn away is totally fine."

It says, First seek God, and all the OTHER things will fall into place as they should (paraphrased, me).

So, I'm gonna try.
I'm gonna try to remember where my heart is rooted. 
I'm gonna try to bury myself a little deeper in Him.
I'm gonna hand over my anxieties (and quit grabbing them back) and just breathe.

It's ok if I don't get that stupid stupid stupid excel spread sheet turned in this week.
It's ok if I'm not on time to the kids' tennis camp.
It's ok if I cry when I drive into our old neighborhood.
It's ok if we eat out for the next 2-16 weeks.

These things are ok...these feelings are OK to have.....but they are not a reason for me to feel overwhelmed and flummoxed and discombobulated. 
They are simply emotions and things to recognize.....and then turn over to God.

Gotta quote one more song here....

"When my world is shaking....
Heaven stands.
When my heart is breaking....
I never leave Your hands."

So.....MAYBE the gospel of Luke was meant for me too. 
Every once and a rare while....I don't mind being wrong.

Here's a link to the song, "Your Hands"

Turn...and Face the Change

So.....it's now been a month (yesterday) that my town was smashed by a tornado.

One month.

31 days.

Not such a very big amount of time, really.

But...I must say that it has TRULY been the LONGEST 31 days I've ever experienced.

I've found it interesting how "warped" time has become since May 22nd. 
Even though I may have literally lost from memory several days of my life, a week seems to stretch on for years. 
And nights when storms come through lately?  Well....2 hours seems to become 8 or 9. 
But other times I am running around doing everything/nothing and I look at my watch to see if it's dinner time...only to find that it's 10:30 at night.

Time just isn't the same.
31 days later....things still just aren't the same.

To be honest, some of the "not-same" things I really kind of like.
For instance....
The low level of tolerance people seem to have for other people's insincerity.
Watching strangers sacrifice so much to help strangers.
Seeing so many people holding hands around town.
My new disco ball.


So...as I was forced to drive through yet another previously-unseen hideously disastrous road this morning (due to the fact that other roads had been closed for house and what remains of people's lives debris removal) I looked around me and noticed some things I found pretty interesting.

I think I'll list them here, so that in 3 years from now I don't forget and start taking the world for granted.

--Trees that have absolutely NO bark on them can still grow new leaves.
--Shiny sequins from Hallmark bags still stay shiny after a month out in the elements.
--Flags moved back up to the top of their poles from half-mast look very strange to me.
--Going without any fruit or vegetables for 14 days will not harm my children.
--You can honestly get used to being able to look through a building.
--Waiting an extra 8-9 minutes in line at Wal-Mart so the checker and another customer can compare tornado stories and hug isn't so bad.
--I can easily live with 4 pairs of shorts and 7 t-shirts (but having all of my fun flip-flops that were in my "lost" luggage helps!).
--It's spookier to see a totally bulldozed and cleared area then one filled with debris.
--A good Dr. Seuss read in quiet-yet-enthusiastic tones can keep a 4, 7 and even 11 year old calm during the sirens.
--Sometimes I'm quicker to cry about amazing kindness then I am about utter devastation.


So.
Some things I'm ok with "getting back to normal."
Others....I hope they ARE the "new normal."
--