Quite a Shock

It was Friday, May 15th. It had been a good day. We had run some errands, then gone to spend some amazing time with my sweet friends Hayes, Kathy and Jennifer and fetch Hayes' equally as sweet daughter, Lydia, who was going to spend the night for the first time with Laney. We were all excited.

We stopped by my mom's to pick up her dog, Bella. Mom needed for us to keep her for a week or two, while Mom did some work on her house that wasn't conducive to having a dog around. Laney was worried about Bella, since she gave a nip or two to Laney's toes when Laney was 2 and Bella was a rambunctious puppy. Despite that, we all loaded up the van and headed to Pelham.

The night was crazy, trying to keep Laney and Bella at a safe distance from each other, monitor the boys and Bella and try to convince Lydia that this wasn't a normal night at our house, and by the time the whole crew was fed, bathed and in the bed, I was exhausted. Happy, but worn slap out. I snuggled in the bed with Bella and was watching the news when it began to thunder. No big deal. Even Jerry Tracey barely mentioned the tiny thunder storm that was hardly a blip on the radar. The thunder was amazing, and I got up to check to see that all the kids were still asleep.Amazingly enough, they were. Truly amazing, had you heard this thunder. Back in the bed, I just couldn't fall asleep. I continued to flip through the channels on the television, and Allen called to say that he was on the way home from a private party he had played that night. I told him the weather was really bad our way, and he said he could see the storm from where he was, coming over Red Mountain. I told him to be careful and hung up. Still unable to doze off, I lay there, listening to the storm, when, at 10:38,

WHAM. The brightest light I have ever seen and the loudest sound I have ever heard in my life. I honestly thought a bomb had gone off. My whole body was tingling, and for a second or two, I really couldn't make sense out of what had just happened. All the power was out, and I fumbled shakily to the bathroom where, thank the Lord, I keep a flashlight plugged into the wall. I grabbed it out of the socket and flipped the light on. The beam of light was full of white smoke, and I really did panic then. My phone was on my chest when I was laying in the bed, and when I jumped up, in got buried in the covers. I was fumbling through the covers, praying out loud, looking for it. I found it, picked up Zane, and called 911. I went to wake up the other kids, the whole time trying so hard to be calm to the dispatch operator.

You know when you hear 911 calls on television? I've always wondered how some of the people sound so calm. I was not calm. My voice was shaking as badly as the rest of me. The operator keep yelling at me to get out of the house, but as I looked out my front door and saw the lightning, I was literally scared to go out the door. We all stood huddled in the door, waiting on someone to get there. I called Allen to tell him what happened, and when I heard his voice, I just fell apart. He tried his best to get me calmed down, and when I saw the lights of the fire truck, I did calm down. Help had arrived.

The fire men (and a fire lady) arrived, with their hatchets, and long story short, lightning struck a cable box close to us, and then traveled through our house via the phone lines/wiring. There was a small fire in our attic, from the wiring. Later we found our that our love seat was also smoldering, but never actually caught fire. It just blew off the phone box there, and there's a nice hole in the back of my sofa.

I will never, as long as I live, forget those 4 children, 3 mine and one I love as much, huddled on my sofa, tears streaming down their faces. We were all terrified. Finally, two hours later, we struggled back to bed. I had everybody in my bed, except Allen and Jude, who slept on the couch in our room. The power was out for hours, and I lay there forever, afraid to go back to sleep. When I woke, startled, hours later, I was still clutching the flashlight I had taken to bed with me.

I will also never forget those Pelham fire fighters. They were calm, reassuring, and just amazing. One of them called me early, early the next morning, literally apologizing for having to leave so quickly, since they had a horribly busy night with the damage the storm did to our city. He patiently went over the damage to our house, what they did to put out the fire, why they did what they did and asked me if I had any questions. I joked that I hoped that he could get a nap after such a busy night, and he said he had some stuff to do at his second job before he'd get a nap. It made me sad that he even needed a second job. Anyone who's benefited from the help of a fire fighter would agree they need to make more money than they do. No amount might be enough.

I started years ago praying for fire fighters and police men whenever hearing a siren. ( a friend of mine was in an accident coming to get me one night, and I heard those sirens, but didn't know they were coming for him. I wished I had already been praying for him, so since then, I have prayed every time I hear sirens.) Since we live very close to both a police station and a fire station, I hear those sirens all the time. And I NEVER tire of praying for those precious souls who risk their lives every time they go to work. After meeting them again (yes, again. you don't want to hear why they came here the first time...) I pray more fervently. Such precious, sweet people.

They also didn't even comment on my pj's-Allen's oldest, literally his most rattiest tee shirt you have ever seen. I was missing him, and it's a very sentimental tee shirt. But also 11 years old, and just this side of completely falling apart. I topped off the ensemble with my Mickey Mouse boxers. They are 18 years old, at least. Really. Oh my goodness. I had the good grace to be embarrassed the next day, and Allen and I had a good laugh about that.

We are still, even today, discovering things that the lightning fried. It's been stressful and a pain to deal with the insurance, the broken items, the hassle of it all. The hardest part for me is seeing how much STUFF we have. And how much I hate all this stuff. And realizing how much I've let all this stuff seep into my life, and become something I just can't live without.

It's been hard, and I've searched for what God would teach me through it. I've heard countless lightening stories. Everybody seems to have one, and we are one of the lucky ones. It could have so easily been very different. I am so thankful there.

I'm still struggling to make sense of this life that I've chosen. The stuff, the money we've spent on stuff, the money we continue to spend and the importance I place on said stuff. It's been a rough two weeks, and it's mostly me, trying to reconcile with God just how I got here.

My sweet friend Jenn reminded me that it's important too how closely we hold to this stuff. I don't hold closely to it at all. I'd give it all away tomorrow and move to Africa or where ever God called. He has reassured me that He knows that, and He'll call me when He's ready.

I'm trying really hard to be patient.