Oh, righttt, that happened: my first
thoughts as I woke up early Sunday morning. I rolled over in bed and remembered
all the interesting details of the evening before…
After dark, on my way home from
two of the four churches I am serving this summer, I got caught in a tremendous
storm. The torrential rain prevented any
visibility out of my windshield, but out of fear that if I pulled off the road
I would get stuck in an unseen ditch, I slowly scooted at less than 5mph to the
home I am dwelling in for the summer. I arrived, scared to death, and parked in
front of the home where I sat in my car and observed non-stop lightening all
around me, especially into the distance over the huge field in front of my
home. The thunder roared concurrently with the lightening, shook my car, and
indicated to me that I was in the heart of it.
With every bolt of lightening lighting up my entire car through the
rain, my nerves tensed. I had pulled up
directly in front of the front porch with the idea in mind that I could just
hop out, run as fast as I possibly could up the steps and into my home. I had done it before when caught in storms
but this one was more intense than any I had been stuck in in a while, and the
wind around me was drastically picking up and shaking my car. Questioning
whether I was safer in my car, parked (under some power lines) or in the house,
I called a friend to ask his opinion. He
suggested that I stay in the car for five minutes before doing anything,
because it should just blow over quickly.
So sitting, intending to spend the time in my car praying
for those sermonizing, I got distracted by my concern that the swing a few
yards in front of my car might blow into my car, breaking through the
windshield. No sooner had I completed
that thought I watched the one hundred year old tree barely yards in front of
me split and crash down onto the home and branches land right on my car. Honestly, it happened so fast that I have no
idea if I screamed or what, but I was in awe.
When I came to my senses, I contemplated the rest of the tree coming
down so I threw that baby in reverse and backed that car up! But, that meant I
was parked under the power lines.
Desperately dialing my friend back, panicked in the uncertainty of what
the best course of action would be, I asked what he thought I should do. Of course, he suggested I call 911
immediately and go over to the neighbors to seek shelter.
I called 911 (barely but luckily remembering the address of
the home I was staying) and explained the situation. The kind and gentle voice comforted me that
help was on their way and that I would be safest staying put in my car until
they arrived. So, I waited, all too
aware of the trees swaying in the wind, the rain flooding around me, the power
lines above me, and the tree’s unfortunate relocation on top of the house I was
borrowing for the summer. Soon enough, flashing lights and about six cars and
one fire truck pulled up to my home.
Anxious, I got out of my car to greet them and explain my situation. Shinning their flashlights over the tree now
laying on the home, they informed me that it had in fact pulled down the main
power line and it was tangled in the branches.
They asked me a series of questions and if I had been the home. I
responded no, and they helped me climb the bushes onto the porch in order to
get to the door (the tree’s new location covered the stairs and half the
porch). I entered the home followed by
six or so firemen, including one of my parishioners- David. Hooray, a familiar face! They explored the home, brought in a ladder,
and ventured into the attic I didn’t know existed. Others were outside
inspecting the tree and power lines, calling the power people.
They deemed the house unsafe to stay in and suggested I call
my supervisor to stay at the parsonage.
Unable to get a hold of him, and knowing he was exhausted from returning
from our youth week-long mission trip, I asked again if they thought it was
really unsafe, and they changed their minds, saying I should be fine. Trusting in their judgments, I called the
homeowners who lived part time in Charlotte, to inform them of the state of
their home. After much chatting and inspecting, the firemen and I exchanged
info and they were on their way. They expected the power guys would be by
shortly.
A number of phone calls and visits from the neighbor later,
the power guys pulled up to inspect the damage.
He informed me that the rest of the road had lost power, so he was going
to deal with them first then come back and remove the power lines lying on my
home. (Somehow I managed to still have power…ironic considering I was the one
with the power line lying on the house.)
It had been hours since I first arrived home and I was finally trying to
calm down a bit by sharing the exciting events with a friend on the phone, when
I began to hear dripping. Yes, in fact, over the course of the next hour, the
entire dining room ceiling turned into a shower-head. Hysterically laughing out of nervousness and
at the reality of the entire evening, I grabbed every pot, pan, Mason jar, and
container I could find, I moved all of the furniture and created a mosaic of
rain collectors on the floor.
Eventually, hours into the morning at this point, deeming the house in
some sense of order in which I could finally rest, I attempted to fall asleep
to the sounds of water dripping in the dinning room.
Somewhat
groggy from a less than ideal amount of sleep, I got myself ready for the
morning’s services and explored the home to assess its current status. Grabbing
my camera, I ventured outside, to see what it looked like in the daylight. I must admit it looked even worse than the
evening before. But, as I wandered around in the morning fog and stillness, I
could not help but think Wow, this is
beautiful. Of course, these are
probably not the most appropriate sentiments when looking at the destruction of
one’s home, but I could not help it. I
felt like I had climbed a tree, wandering in its branches without the fear of
falling. I studied the beautiful rings
of the tree, revealing its age and captivating my attention. I wondered about how much that tree had
withstood in its years and how many lives it had been a part of. I pondered over the force of the wind, how
much power it would take to split this massive portion of the tree apart. And I couldn’t help but ponder the power of
God. For some reason, all I could think of amidst this destruction was its
beauty. That tree was absolutely beautiful, and the power of that storm was
also majestic. I felt like a cliché only able to see the beauty in the mess,
but I also did not care because for some reason, that tree lying on that home
was incredibly moving.
As I wandered back towards the
direction of the porch I also thought about how Jimmy and Betty’s (the
homeowners) cars were usually parked right under where that massive branch landed.
And, as I walked to where I was parked, I noticed I had just been two feet
forward, it would have smashed the car, with me inside. (I should note, I didn’t park two feet
forward because Jimmy had told me all summer not to park on the sidewalk
because the oil may leak and would never come out of the concrete. But, if I
had not listened to him, I might have been squashed. Thank God for his request.)
I praised God for how blessed we were in the situation. It could have been so
much worse. There could have been so much more damage done to the house and if
the whole tree had fallen, the entire house would have been demolished. I thanked God for my safety, and that no one
else was home or hurt. And I thought
about how scared I had been the night before in contrast with the beauty I was
overwhelmed wandering amongst the tree’s branches.
Thank
you God for the blessing of seeing beauty and the life experiences I have been
granted. And, praise God for beauty in destruction!
The poor swing I was so scared of blowing into my car....squashed.
The view from the front porch.
Another
day in the life in Lilesville.
.JPG)
.JPG)
