Letting go of what you think you know

An F4 tornado hit our small city this week.

Loss. Destruction. Despair. Fear. Catastrophe. All of these words encompass what I think has been my constant refrain over the past two days. I can't make sense of this, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is this: Strength. Unity. Caring. Miracle. Grace.

I could play the what if game so easily. And it's important in some ways because it reminds you of what's important. It makes you remember to count your blessings, share love with those you care, those that you haven't said it to in a while, and maybe those that you've never said it to. It makes you want to act decisively, do what's important, but also to consider that even the small actions matter. Folding clothes. Cleaning a kitchen. Packing a box. Hugging a friend.

I am struggling with places I know being devastated and changing. I am struggling with not doing enough to help. I get emotional when I think of lost lives, and all I have lost is power. The empathy I'm feeling for my coworkers and friends who've lost everything is overwhelming.

By God's grace, we survived, and so did many of our friends. I pray for those that need strength in the coming days. I pray for those that lost loved ones. I pray that our fair city will recover. I praise Him for who He is, and for His sovereign mercies.

It's the Little Things I Want to Remember

The cold hard aluminum stands.
The smell of clay, gravel, and dust.
The excitement in the air if a pop fly goes up.
The frustration when the ball is overthrown.
The sounds: the ball hitting the glove; the bat crack as it makes contact with the ball; the shouts of the girls in the dugouts, encouragement from the parents, disparagement from the parents and coaches, and general disgust with empires in the stands.
My pose in the stands, ready to jump if a great play is made.
Patty making wisecracks about the umps and margaritas.
Gabe screaming, "Come on Riverside! Let's get some excitement out there!" in his raspy voice.
Lori, continually repeating the rules for me but also ever-organized, getting the next event together.
Papa Spud, cheerful but serious, telling K to use her hips when hitting.
Coach Boatwright, smiling but ready to lay into the girls for laziness.
Someone shouting, "Lucky number 13!" and Justin saying, "Boo-yah!"
Sara pitching. Aryan pitching. Kailyn making the play at shortstop. Catie stopping one and throwing to Katie. Blanca and Hayden getting the out at home. Aryan making the grand slam. K catching one at center. K missing one at center. K hitting in the infield, not making it to first ("she's a hefty lefty!"). K hitting harder and outrunning the throw to first. K running like the wind around the bases.

I'm going to miss this. What a season.

Holy, Holy, Holy

Been thinking of the part in italics all day; from Phillippians.

1 So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant,being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Lovely, tragic, grace-filled, inerrant truth.

Curry or Bust

My friend Aimee invited me to the Indian place in town for lunch tomorrow. I feel a disproportionate amount of excitement about that.

Last week I made some great Chicken Parmesan with fresh sauteed squash (new recipe). Another night, I made my usual cajun-spiced burgers. The week before, I made Thai noodles with chicken (new recipe). M commented, "Mom, why haven't you always cooked like this?" Um, thanks, I think.

Sadly, food and liquor are both things that really get me consistently excited nowadays. I noticed a Vodka mail-in rebate and spent at least a few minutes today reading the fine print (vodka mail-in rebate? Smirnoff must be hurting for cash). These few minutes were more time than I spent actually testing some new code.

I think I need a snack.

poem per usual

Starving and parched
Identity stripped away
Bowed and beaten
Humility steps in
Waiting and wondering
Grace received freely
Adorned and undeserved
Day is done.

Dreamy hopes

I am not in a very deep thinking mood tonight. I am having trouble focusing on blogs that I read and paying attention.

K asked me tonight what she should write a sonnet about for school. I said that a lot of people write about love. But I told her to write about hopes. Dreams, even. She said, "What about dreams? 'I have a dream.' What else?" Kind of a literal thinker, that girl. She asked me to write it for her. I said, "Um, no."

So here's me writing a poem about both, for me.

Dreams have been shattered
Unwelcome, still they persist
Changed and small, yet forward-thinking
Delicious, secret, with a bit of unbelief

Hopes arise out of the ashes
Lurking and peeking and mischievously grinning
Risen expectations, with fear
Wondering, waiting, and yearning

Faith, bold and uncompromising
Leads one to remember
The beauty of sweet anticipation
In something outside of ourselves

H20 and Me

I spent an hour outside in the rain tonight shoveling both with an actual shovel and my hands today (the hands were necessary). I created a small trough outside my basement door. Because water was, well, pouring in through the back door. Water enters the basement, unwelcome but unstoppable, again.

I had gutters put in after my first leak. On the front of the house. Tonight, it's coming in from the back of the house. Of course.

I do not comprehend the Japanese tsunami. At all. Utterly tragic, and cannot fathom having lost family, a home, or all of my clothing. But I am tired of water. In my house, that is.