In the Basement

Last Tuesday night, Sheryl and I grabbed the kids and headed down to the basement. Sheryl had gotten home from the Y around 8:50 and we just kept watching the radar. As "the hook" got closer and closer to our area, we started blowing out candles and getting pillows and quilts downstairs. As we kept watching and watching, at about 9:15, Sheryl and I looked at each other and basically agreed that, yeah, we had to get the kids and go downstairs.

We never covered up, but we listened to both the TV and outside. We had the torrential rain, some brief hail, then it got really quiet. And we got scared. Thankfully, the storm passed over us, even though it went on to do terrible damage to accompany the damage it had already done. However, the kids slept through it and won't have a memory of it.

What I will remember is that as I was holding Kinsey in my arms and looking furtively over at the pile of pillows, wondering if we were going to have to make a mad dash over there, I looked at Sheryl holding Connor and down at Kinsey's sleep-mussed head that they are everything to me. I realized right then that everything we have could be obliterated, that everything could be gone, but if anything happened to any of them, I would be destroyed. Who I am is so totally wrapped up in them that I can't even think about what life would be like without them.

And so, I'm grateful to God for them. I'm thankful that He's given me ways to express and share love that I could never have imagined 15 years ago. We can never truly imagine our capacity for love until we get the opportunity to give it.