I wrote this three years ago and it meant so much to me, I thought I’d post it again here. Enjoy. 🙂
Just one week after Thanksgiving, the worst ice storm our area has seen in the past 25 years came blowing through our city. Freezing rain collected on streets, trees and power lines. Blustery winds ripped through the area, downing limbs, trees and power lines. Thousands of citizens were without power. Those who live off of well water were also without water. The temperatures hovered in the teens as people began to turn on their water faucets, allowing them to drip into the drain just to keep their pipes from freezing. There were scattered reports of deaths due to this storm—some resulting from the arctic temperatures and some from people that were running propane heaters in their homes without proper ventilation.
I was one of the fortunate ones. Our power remained on and the trees and limbs that came down in my yard just missed the house, our vehicles and our swimming pool. Half of a tree did manage to take out the majority of our Christmas lights but, overall, we faired very well.
It was amazing to watch people come together to help one another through this tumultuous time. People with four-wheel-drive pick-up trucks and wenches helped tow their neighbors out of ditches. Men got together with their chainsaws and cut the trees into limbs while kids carried them away. Many folks donated their time at local shelters and food banks. Families that had differences which had come between them were suddenly reminded of how glad they were they had each other.
My husband had just woke up from a nap when I informed him that, due to the power outage, both of my parents and my 21 year-old nephew were coming to stay with us in our tiny, little 3-bedroom house. At that very moment, I realized what a good, underappreciated guy I had. My husband just shrugged and said, “Okay.” There was no moment of hesitation. There was no rolling of his eyes or ugly words forming in his mouth. It was almost as if it was just expected that this is what we would do.
My parents, of course, argued with us a little before accepting our invitation. They didn’t want to trouble us. They didn’t want us to give up our bed. They didn’t want the kids to have to share a room. They didn’t want to eat up all of our food. Their excuses were pretty thin considering that you could see your breath in their house.
After finally getting them to succumb to our pleas, we sorted out the sleeping arrangements got together for a big, family supper. We picked on one another and laughed together. I remembered how it was before my sisters had passed away…all of us girls spending the night at one another’s homes—especially around the holidays. We stayed up late, giggling and carrying on. I always knew I missed it but I forgot how much until my house was once again full of people I love, harassing, laughing and loving on each other.
As I prepared to go to sleep on my couch, with my nephew nodding off in the recliner, I tearfully thanked God for my family. I thanked Him for the good times. Then, I thanked Him for the all the trials. Right there in the midst of what most would see as a disaster, I experienced one of the best times of my life.
If you look really hard, you’ll see that God is not punishing us when he allows disasters to befall us. He’s blessing us with a reminder that He will see us through the storm. He’s giving us an opportunity to draw nearer to one another. He’s humbling us by helping us to remember that not everyone out there has the luxury of food, heat, and a bed. He’s allowing our icy hearts to melt, right there, in the middle of an ice storm.
The memory of the 2006 ice storm will forever be a treasure in my heart.
220 Gal 