Saturday afternoon I lay on my lounge chair in the backyard, basking in warm sunbeams. My cats stretched out purring in the shade beneath my chair, letting me know they kept me company. A perfect summer day.
Then a shadow swept across my closed eyes and I opened them. The sun had slid behind a cloud. Just a big white ice cream cloud. I rolled off my chair. Enough tanning for one day. Might as well put everything away.
I showered away my suntan lotion and headed back outside, but stopped in my tracks in the doorway. All around me angry, churning, black clouds rolled into the sky from two directions. After calling the cats inside, I watched from my dining room window. Lightening flashed and thunder shook my house. The sky turned green.
Thoughts of how to protect myself in a tornado ran jumbled through my mind. Basement. Bathroom. Do I face the storm so the house blows away from me or do I just curl up in the bathtub? No, I can’t do that. There is only a shower downstairs.
Before my mind could sort out the jumble, a powerful wind struck the house, shaking it. Curtains flew out from the windows. A picture fell from the wall. My mouth dropped open but not a sound followed. But I ran. Closed all the windows.
Outside rain fell so hard I couldn’t see the houses across the street. Trees bent, their upper branches almost touching the ground. Another sheet of wind and rain swept past, ripping smaller branches off trees, sending them sailing down the street in a torrent of water.
For several minutes life was a vacuum. Nothing felt real. Then it was over. The angry clouds rolled away. The sun broke through. I slipped on my runners and headed down the walking trail.
All around me, debris clung to the edges of the streets and walks. I came upon a huge poplar branch laying on a lawn. As I stared at it some pretty serious thoughts poked their heads into my mind. Like a few minutes ago, this tree was whole. Now it’s deformed or maybe even worse. It may have to be cut down. I marvelled at how fragile our life really is. Realized that tomorrow may not always be just another day. And it made me thankful. Thankful that the storm passed without more damage, but more so, thankful that God had protected us from the full blast of the storm.
Then a shadow swept across my closed eyes and I opened them. The sun had slid behind a cloud. Just a big white ice cream cloud. I rolled off my chair. Enough tanning for one day. Might as well put everything away.
I showered away my suntan lotion and headed back outside, but stopped in my tracks in the doorway. All around me angry, churning, black clouds rolled into the sky from two directions. After calling the cats inside, I watched from my dining room window. Lightening flashed and thunder shook my house. The sky turned green.
Thoughts of how to protect myself in a tornado ran jumbled through my mind. Basement. Bathroom. Do I face the storm so the house blows away from me or do I just curl up in the bathtub? No, I can’t do that. There is only a shower downstairs.
Before my mind could sort out the jumble, a powerful wind struck the house, shaking it. Curtains flew out from the windows. A picture fell from the wall. My mouth dropped open but not a sound followed. But I ran. Closed all the windows.
Outside rain fell so hard I couldn’t see the houses across the street. Trees bent, their upper branches almost touching the ground. Another sheet of wind and rain swept past, ripping smaller branches off trees, sending them sailing down the street in a torrent of water.
For several minutes life was a vacuum. Nothing felt real. Then it was over. The angry clouds rolled away. The sun broke through. I slipped on my runners and headed down the walking trail.
All around me, debris clung to the edges of the streets and walks. I came upon a huge poplar branch laying on a lawn. As I stared at it some pretty serious thoughts poked their heads into my mind. Like a few minutes ago, this tree was whole. Now it’s deformed or maybe even worse. It may have to be cut down. I marvelled at how fragile our life really is. Realized that tomorrow may not always be just another day. And it made me thankful. Thankful that the storm passed without more damage, but more so, thankful that God had protected us from the full blast of the storm.
So glad you were protected! What a scary experience.
ReplyDeleteStorms remind me too of the power of God. Apart from grace, where would we be! Well written, Eunice.
ReplyDeleteJust when we think we are in control...Thanks for the reminder, Eunice, about Who holds the 'key.'
ReplyDeleteGreat post. :)
Yikes, sounds scary - and the lesson you point out is all too true.
ReplyDelete