A time to tear down, a time to build up.
The Byrds' song has been going through my head the past few days as well as the verses in Ecclesiastes that the song is based on. If ever a week for weeping and joy at the same time, this was it.
The tornadoes that hit Alabama this week were by far the worst I've ever seen or experienced. And I hope never to do so again.
My power went out early Wednesday morning when the first smaller wave went through. Mom was here painting which was inconvenient for her but I told her to check the sky every now and then to make sure it wasn't getting bad.
Her question to me, "will it be bathtub bad?" My answer, "possibly."
The forecast was actually bad enough that we were sent home from work early. Schools shut down. Malls closed. Churches cancelled activities.
As Mom was painting by the light of the flashlight I was holding, I kept checking my phone for updates. A large storm neared Tuscaloosa and we decided to go down to my neighbors, one floor below, just to be safe.
Max had a weather radio and we kept listening for updates. Shortly after, the weathermen began talking about large tornado heading toward Tuscaloosa (50 miles southwest of Birmingham). Then it hit. A tornado a mile wide straight through downtown. I have never heard weathermen actually speechless before.
With that, we all decided to head to the basement/meeting room of the complex. About 8 others joined us and we sat. Flashlights casting dark shadows around the room and weather radios static cutting through the air. We sat and visited and then we heard the announcement to take cover immediately.
And we waited. Listening for any indication that the tornado was above us.
An hour later, the storm had missed Vestavia Hills (where I live) and made a sharp turn northeast. I still didn't have power so the severity of it was still out of my grasp. All I knew is that my condo was still standing and we were safe.
The next morning, with still no power, I went to work and began to see the devastation for the first time.
Have you ever heard of survivor's guilt? That's how I felt all day. The happiness I felt at being safe and sound was overcome with this ache in my heart for others that weren't that fortunate. I read of couples found in the rubble of their homes holding hands in their last moments. Children orphaned. People that couldn't be found. Towns completely gone from the face of the earth.
Every day I become heartbroken all over again when I heard of new stories. And then there are the few moments of joy when three people were found alive in their basement after being trapped when their house completely caved in during the storm.
I hear of restaurants taking all their food out to neighborhoods to feed the crews and residents. I hear of former Alabama football coach Gene Stallings grilling hamburgers in the middle of a ravaged street. I hear of corporations giving large amounts of money for recovery efforts.
So this week I have celebrated the good, mourned for the lost and given as much as I can to help in anyway possible.
Give blood; give money; give clothing; give food.
Just give.
And above all, give words of love to those you care for and give thanks to God for always being faithful - even through the worst storms.
No comments:
Post a Comment