christian living

(Continued from Part 3)

I stared into the night.  Most of my children were asleep.  Some of the sweet, older girls with us held one here, helped another there.  I felt very numb.  I think I cried a few times, but not the sobbing kind…just quiet tears.  I wish I had been more in tune with my children.  I felt “far away”.  We just kept doing the next thing, trying not to think about what we were going to do tomorrow.

The men were out, cutting trees from the inside out so emergency vehicles could get in.

Our friends and church family began calling Aaron’s cell phone.  He told them, “There’s no way you can’t get in here. Don’t even try.”

Several hours into the night, maybe around 3 a.m., Jeff, a familiar face walked in.  We couldn’t believe it.  Friends and our church family had cut their way in and walked for miles on foot to reach us. Several others were at the Lees assisting them. I had asked several times, “Who is with Sherry?” I was so relieved when I knew women were with her.

All through the night people showed up bringing supplies–water, food, diapers, blankets–it was a really cool night and I remember how thankful I was for our friend who brought blankets and tenderly covered Avi who was shivering beside me.

There is something very humbling about being instantly destitute…that’s what we were.  We had nothing at the moment.  We were completely dependent on other people for everything…even our survival. And just when we needed other people the most, they were there, like an army rising up, to take care of us.

As dawn broke, the irony would parallel our lives at that moment…the welcomed light would brutally reveal what the night had hidden.  Tears slipped down my face again…barely able to see out the windows for all the fallen trees, where I did look was unrecognizable.  The breath-taking beauty of our whole valley demolished. Ugliness, complete loss of everything familiar that was home, and the deep sadness over our friend, Tom…there were emotions from every side.

And I feared to hear of more death.  I knew we would.

We would soon learn that our next door neighbors all died except for a son who was at work. Kevin Isbell , who suffered the largest cluster of fatalities, would come home, climb his way in the darkness through the valley for four miles until he reached his home.  There he found his wife, his daughter and his father dead.  There were also four elderly people living with them (assisted living) who perished as well.

The neighbor where we pick blueberries every summer lost everything he had including his son and daughter-in-law who lived next door, leaving behind 3 injured teen-aged girls.

Thirteen people lost their lives in our neighborhood.

More people flooded in as soon as the roads were clear. Many friends, neighbors, even some out of state arrived by morning.  It would have met the rising hope in my heart if The Hallelujah Chorus had started playing instantaneously when I walked outside that morning. It was like the Calvary coming in the valley from every direction and it didn’t stop.

The children and I went to an elder’s house that morning. The whole day was a whirlwind of phone calls, decisions and just taking care of basics like finding clothes for everybody.  But the flood of encouragement–people showing up at the door with money or supplies, people calling to tell me about the funds on-line that had been set up–the Lord ministered to us so much in those first hours through the love of so many.  It was like His arms around me whispering, “It’s going to be OK.  I’m not surprised by this and I’m walking with you.”

A gracious friend of my parents has let us stay in his lake house.  It is really small, around 1000 sq. ft., but it has a huge screened-in porch and a large, beautiful lake lot.  We are learning a lot about bonding in a new way 😉 We are making plans to rebuild and hope to be in our home by Christmas.

I am working my way through the emotional roller coaster of postpartum days married with a life turned upside down.

It’s getting better. I have dealt with what felt like a “childhood stage” where I didn’t want my husband to leave and felt angry about it.  I have tried to recapture some of our routine and schedule but it has been really hard to do in a place that isn’t home. I’m sure the acceptance of a “new normal” will come. In the meantime, I would covet your prayers for grace, strength and a serenity of spirit.

Below are some random photos of our “new life”.

Our temporary home–thank you Mr. Wilcut!  The house is small, but cozy and serene.  You are looking at the main area with two bedrooms and a bath on the right.  I didn’t want to be in this picture…but it’s the only one we have this tidy 😉 I thought smaller spaces were easier to keep picked up…mmm, not so much.

We get to enjoy a beautiful lake lot.  Such a balm to our eyes and souls on days we return from the scalped place where our home was.

Bria at her favorite place….the lake.  Beauty in our surroundings is necessary to a woman’s soul.  Much more than I ever dreamed until now.

Avi and Brooks

We don’t have a bath tub.  But boy do we have a stock pile of Rubbermaid tubs that have come in handy more than a time or two 😉  Don’t worry, we DO have a shower, she just hasn’t learned to take one yet.

Preparing to roast marshmallows in the late evening.

Thank you for peeking into this, the journaling of our experience.  There are many more things I could say, but will save for later.  When all is said and done, we continue to praise God for His protection, his grace–showered even on those of our friends who have lost loved ones.  And I thank Him for YOU. You have poured out your love in so many ways it is unfathomable.  I thank Him for the love of Christ and the way that love exudes from His church, the Body. I thank Him for knowing my frame and my weaknesses and not holding that against me. I thank Him that we feel His presence the very most in the darkest of storms…that He never leaves us or forsakes us.

(Regarding the family picture that mistakenly ended up in the video twice…it is our last family picture in front of our home, Easter Sunday.  Post-baby swelling–does this happen to anyone else?  And Jax is not in a dress 😉  It’s his baptismal gown.)

 Storm Strikes Again–2013

As I write the rest of our story (coming soon!), the cry of my heart remains, “I will trust You”. I wrote this song about four years ago but it has never held so much meaning for me as it does now. My prayer is that it might minister to you as you trust Him with your life in your hard places. Because life is about changing seasons for all of us.  Nothing here remains the same and the more loosely we can hold these things, the tighter we will cling to Him.

From the archives….but terribly relevant in my life right now.  It’s good to read this “pre-tribulation” post and still be able to shake my head and know it is true.

Sometimes, it’s just a simple matter of His desire to hear, “Lord, I will still love you…I will still obey you.”

What is your wilderness? More importantly, what is it wringing out of your heart? A shaking fist, or the cry…“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him”?

My Dad and I have had a few “post-tornado” talks. The first few days were very hard for him as he witnessed all he had invested physically and emotionally in the last 26 years lying in a heap.

Honestly, I think we all grieved more over “Poppy & Granna’s house” being gone–the farm in general–as it is the place where I grew up and the only place my children have ever known.  It was our little country paradise.  It was familiar and full of memories.

In our discussion about how suffering most often brings out the best in humanity, I commented to him,

“The thing is, God is not so nearly concerned with our stuff as we are; He’s much more concerned with our spiritual state–our response to suffering, that’s what matters.”

And I think that test is both for those who are “victims” and for those who are looking in.

It’s been a strange revelation as this crazy thing has played out. Ironically, just weeks before the storm, I said to my brother (who was trying to coax me to move to Colorado), “You don’t understand. I really love being here….I love our home. I really love “sameness”. . I don’t like change.” (Hee hee)

I’ve always reveled over the picturesque farm we’ve called home for almost my whole life, delighting in the beauty that surrounds us, reminding our children how blessed we are for such physical comforts. If you had told me it would all be destroyed tomorrow, I would have been wrenched with grief at the thoughts. I would have told you that I “couldn’t handle it”.

“He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater…”

But in the moment it was snatched away I was forced to reckon with the question of real treasures.

My Dad summed up in a letter what we all feel, and I’m so thankful to have been raised by a man whose faith is built on the Rock, whose faith seeped into my heart and now braces up my life when much of the physical has crumbled.

“In 30 seconds all the years of work, sweat and tears, our houses, barns and possessions were all gone.

The test had come. Where were my treasures? At that point God completely called my hand and I am grateful to say, truly, they are in Heaven and not being burned in the trash pile…Praise God from whom all blessings flow!” –Gary Liverett

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21

Words pierce when they are God-words…

“We must continually remind ourselves of the purpose of life.  We are not destined to happiness, nor to health, but to holiness….God has only one intended destiny for mankind—holiness.  His only goal is to produce saints.  God is not some eternal blessing-machine for people to use, and He did not come to save us out of pity–He came to save us because He created us to be holy.”  -Oswald Chambers

The only way we use the word “holiness” today is as a poetic chant in our favorite praise song. We want nothing to do with real holiness if it means interference with our desires and interests.

Why can’t I remember that God’s ONLY purpose is to make me holy? Holy and happy are sometimes very far apart.  I want to be happy. He wants me to be holy. Sometimes they collide, but He isn’t really concerned with that.  I’m busy trying to orchestrate my circumstances to be happy and I have to wonder, how many times do I hinder His attempts to make me holy?

What does it mean to be holy?  Christians aren’t even taught holiness. The very word falls awkward on our ears and we recoil a bit. Can I even get to the place where all I care about is being completely His, used by Him, for His purposes, no matter the cost?

Can I say to Him, “I am yours, make me holy?” and then see every circumstance in my life as that which is effecting the very prayer in me?

My heart ponders today….what does it mean to be holy, and am I willing for Him to make me? And I wonder, what do you think it means to be holy?

(From the archives)

“If you don’t read good books, you will read bad ones. If you don’t go on thinking rationally, you will think irrationally. If you reject aesthetic satisfaction, you will fall into sensual satisfactions.” -C.S. Lewis

I think a lot about deliberate living. This is why. This quote confirms the teaching of Scripture: If you don’t seek what is good on purpose, you will gravitate to what is bad by default. The spirit of the flesh is at war with the spirit of God within us.

And this is exactly why we are saved by grace, taking NO credit for our own salvation, and are still commanded to “seek what is good,” meaning, that it behooves us to produce the good fruit of our faith. We are urged to “train ourselves for godliness.” (1 Timothy 4:7) It is the mark of a believer.

In other words, “LIFE DOESN’T HAVE OPTIONAL VOIDS.” (Sandra Boswell)

Faithfulness on purpose or infidelity by default. Good books/music on purpose, or bad ones by default. Virtue on purpose, or vulgarity by default.

The “default” is the baseness of our nature…that “flesh that wars within me” that Paul and all of us wrestle with. Scripture says we must put those things to death.

This isn’t legalism. When Paul said, “Whatever things are true, whatever things are honest, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure…if there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on these things.“

Paul was saying,

“LIVE DELIBERATELY.” “LEAN TOWARD WHAT IS GOOD AND NOBLE.”

Paul knew what Lewis knew–if you don’t think on these things, you will think on their opposites.

“Take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.”

Ashton was happy to find some of his art work.

Personal trials always push us to answer theological questions–to unpack the character of God and to wrestle with the hard facts.

Is suffering the judgement of God?  Is it meant for me personally, or is it a corporate judgement? Does God allow it or cause it? Is God testing my faith or is suffering purely random and coincidental?

From what we know in Scripture, it can actually be any number of things.  In the OT, we see God often “smite” people with His wrath. Intentional judgement.  We also see God “allow” trials for testing, as in the case of Job, a “perfect and upright man”.  We see him bring suffering to show forth His glory (John 9), that “the works of God may be made manifest in him”.  And often it is a simple law of nature at work in our fallen world that brings disaster and suffering on the just and the unjust alike.

But in all these things, two things are certain:  nothing happens outside the sovereign omniscience of God and He works ALL THINGS together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

I can testify to seeing this principle lived out in the lives of many others, and now am seeing it in my own life.

“Were there no tragedies, no handicaps, no opportunities for people to feel compassion and express that in tangible ways, we would become a world full of self-absorption, eaten up with greed and misery.”

All things good.  All things new. My family and I have joked about how neat it is to have so many new things.  If you haven’t read here long, you probably don’t know that I’m a “thrift store kind of gal”–perhaps to a fault.  Part of it is just my nature, part of it is an attempt to be the best steward of our income, and part of it is simply necessity. I’m the girl digging out the last bit of lipstick with a bobby pin and adding water to the last drop of dish detergent for one more use. Suffice it to say, we own (owned) a lot of used stuff, and we’re OK with that.

So while losing all you own is pretty rotten, getting new stuff for a change is pretty fun!  There is always beauty for ashes for the children of God.

“It’s like Christmas!” -Brooks, when he received some art supplies.

But the profoundest reality of suffering is what my Dad and I shared together last Sunday.

He commented on the irony of human nature and its response to suffering. Were there no tragedies, no handicaps, no opportunities for people to feel compassion and express that in tangible ways, we would become a world full of self-absorption, eaten up with greed and misery.  We would, in reality, self-destruct from our humanness if we lived in a state of safety and constant utopia.

Just as I have lived the irony of feeling gratitude increase in direct proportion to the loss of material possessions, I have seen humanity love largely, give abundantly, sacrifice greatly and care deeply in the face of tragedy where it usually bickers and holds grudges in the calm.

God knows how to run His universe and as my friend Jane, who sheltered the storm with us said, “I’d much rather be with God in the storm, than all alone in comfort.”