I prayed (loudly ... ask the two daughters who were with me ... I don't think we've ever screamed Hail Marys before and "Jesus, I trust in Thee" has a nice ring to it when one is screeching the words) that we would all be kept safe.
I see now I should have been more specific ("Please, God, keep us safe, and the van, too." Ah, well.)
Here's a photo that illustrates why I keep picturing my very dedicated guardian angel plastered up against my driver's side window as we drove through the storm:
Still dealing, of course, with insurance, and repairs, and estimates, and claims adjusters, and not looking forward to having the roof replaced for the second time in two years, but -- again -- I'm grateful.
It's been quite a year, as repairs and headaches go. In January, we had a huge plumbing issue crop up. It wasn't fully resolved until the end of March, and the mess of mud formerly known as our yard (do you know what a yard looks like after it's been dug up to replace a sewer pipe? It looks ... a little sad) is still feeling the wound. But such are the never-ending joys of home ownership, no?
Still, I'm grateful.
I think a lot about detachment. I spend a lot of time trying to be detached. But God keeps showing me all the things I'm still attached to: reliable indoor plumbing, the use of a vehicle with a windshield, a schedule. Control.
He keeps taking things away, sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently, and showing me that nothing -- nothing -- in this world is more important than He is.
I often wish He would find more amiable ways to treat His friends, but He's still the best friend I've got.
And for that? Grateful.
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| More of the same below the arrow (out of sight, because I'm a terrible photographer. ) |
Still dealing, of course, with insurance, and repairs, and estimates, and claims adjusters, and not looking forward to having the roof replaced for the second time in two years, but -- again -- I'm grateful.
It's been quite a year, as repairs and headaches go. In January, we had a huge plumbing issue crop up. It wasn't fully resolved until the end of March, and the mess of mud formerly known as our yard (do you know what a yard looks like after it's been dug up to replace a sewer pipe? It looks ... a little sad) is still feeling the wound. But such are the never-ending joys of home ownership, no?
Still, I'm grateful.
I think a lot about detachment. I spend a lot of time trying to be detached. But God keeps showing me all the things I'm still attached to: reliable indoor plumbing, the use of a vehicle with a windshield, a schedule. Control.
He keeps taking things away, sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently, and showing me that nothing -- nothing -- in this world is more important than He is.
I often wish He would find more amiable ways to treat His friends, but He's still the best friend I've got.
And for that? Grateful.
10 comments:
Ah, Karen, yes. Detachment, but also: embracing the paths He sets for us to walk upon ....
I have a friend visiting from out of town and we were talking today about all those plans .... You know, the things i was certain i'd do, or at least, be able to do? And then the brain tumor, which came the same summer I almost lost the house, and also had to have a beloved maple tree taken down because the neighbor complained to the city about it ....
But i feel God's loving arms around me more vividly with every difficult day, in every crisis, every sad goodbye. Isn't life amazing? We get all of these opportunities to cling ever more tightly to Him, and it is all pretty glorious -- even in the midst of hailstorms.
And maybe it's even because of those storms that life keeps getting better and better. Storms help us grow in ways that the placid days cannot.
Again, so glad you all are ok. Such a scary thing to go through. {{hugs}}
Ellie, you are amazing. I have the best readers -- friends -- in the world. Hugs back to you!
Ach, you're making me cry.
When I saw the first pictures of the van, that old Amy Grant song popped into my head:
God only knows the times my life Was threatened just today
A reckless car ran out of gas
Before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me --
Accidents unknown,
For I never see with human eyes
The hands that lead me home...
Aw, Tanita, I'm sorry I made you cry. I just wanted company. :)
But I am done feeling sorry for myself. Yes! I remember that Amy Grant song, too. :)
"I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home."
Yes, and yes and always yes. Hugs to you, Tanita.
You know, i don't hink it's actually a matter of feeling sorry for ourselves when we write these sorts of posts, Karen. **thinking** We (especially writers) need to work through scary or difficult or complicated situations .... Using our words, right? Like big girls. :-p (bless, I've got a post up myself at the moment, working theough some tough things). Seriously though,, I tend to feel that it is not only perfectly valid, but necessary ... And anyhow, you certainly didn't come across as feeling sorry for yourself. :-) {{hugs}}
You're so very kind, Ellie. Yes, I think you're right -- it's how I process and deal with things, to write about them is to think about them. Hugs back to you!
I think a lot about detachment, too. I think I'm detached, and then I realize all the little things I take for granted or depend on everyday. (Sigh.) I guess detachment is a work in progress ...
These things that we suffer/endure truly help us to surrender everything to Him, and even though we we've lost something of this world, in some mysterious way, we are so much richer in grace, mercy and friendship with God.
I am glad you and your family are OK! And I hope all the insurance "stuff" goes smoothly.
"In everything give thanks" (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Thanks so much, Sarah! Yes, works in progress! And thanks for the 1 Thessalonians -- I turn to that one often, too.
Jesus, I trust in Thee to keep working on me. :)
Jiminy crickets, Karen. Those are some scary dents. I feel shaken up for you after the fact. It was one thing to know about it, but to SEE it. Yikes!!
Thanks for your sympathy shakes, Lissa! :)
Honestly, feeling like it was NOTHING now, compared to what we've seen others around here going through, having lost homes.... so sad and hard!
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