Storm

We should have sensed it coming. There should have been hairs standing straight up on the back of our necks. There certainly were during and after, but beforehand, we had no warning. The sky loomed a little grey and we could feel a coolness in the previously humid-wet July air.

Three kid seat belts, click, click, click. Their voices buzzed with excitement as we prepared to go to Grandpa and Grandma's for their favorite pizza. Key in, engine hum, reverse. Away we went.

The scent of ozone began to fill our nostrils. The treetops began to sway. This was nothing entirely new for us, living life in a house in the forest. But there was more of a threat in the swirl. Within 25 seconds, the previously grey sky was inky black and rotating, like a whirl of water sucking down the bathroom drain; the chaos began.

Our eardrums began to pull and pop. The boys scrambled to window edges to watch as the forest we lived in and love began splintering. The shrill sound of a very underutilized tornado siren began to wail from 3 miles down in the valley town. My husband and I looked at each other with panicked eyes. One giant cherry tree twisted in front of our van, across the road, another small tree fell just behind. Trapped between, a Hickory loomed large and swayed in the wind. Vertical branches racing toward our windows, each smash inducing screams. Each thunder crash and lightning blast pulled cries from the 7 month old. He had not yet witnessed a storm like this. None of us had.

As scared as I was, I rembered I was the security line for these babies. My husband made a quick choice to back up over the small tree and head for a less forested spot on our road. I chose to reverse too and sit with my boys in the back. We tried to sing, but nervous eyes and clutching hands could not be tamed by melody. So we prayed.

Within 4 long minutes, the damage was done. Downed trees and power lines. Sheer vertical winds of 90 mph had ripped a line of forest all around us. Power out for a week. Searing heat after the cool storm. But gratitude ripped through each heart as we realized things could have been much worse. The same wind that can cool and calm us can quickly change to terrorize. But the Master of the wind holds us all and gives shelter from the storm.