Like many across several states, we woke sleeping children, a dog, and a Guinea pig, and huddled in our lowest interior space in the early hours of last Saturday morning.
As the winds blew loudly, the lights went out, and I quit using my phone, which had been discharging quickly as we watched the weather report. The storm passed us and we went to bed. I thought of my family, ninety minutes north, but didn’t check in. They often don’t get up with storm alerts.
Early the next morning, power still out, as I was getting ready for the day, one of my aunts checked in on us, and to see what her son (who lives relatively close) might find when he headed home. Then she mentioned she had seen my mom’s post.
I quickly went to Facebook and found out about the damage in my hometown. They were okay, the house was damaged. As the morning went on and pictures were coming in, I sat with our solar phone charger, and we saw more and more of the damage to their home, but much more than that, to the neighbors.
One of the new stations flew over the path, and their home was right there, just on the outskirts of the main line. We are so blessed, so thankful. God still has work for them to do, and we get to keep them. Not only that—their house, while banged up, is usable. And as of yesterday, they even have power again.
Many of their neighbors have lost so much. We are grateful for volunteers who brought meals, are cleaning up debris, patching roofs, and supplying necessities. And praying for those who need literally everything replaced, and for the loved ones of those who were lost, and can’t be.
