Most of you don’t know this, but I have a deep fascination with Texas thunderstorms. Seriously. Like to the point where I have dreams of being a storm chaser. Of getting up close and personal with nature’s fury. Of facing a tornado head-on and living to tell the tale. Of one day in heaven getting to ride the roller coaster that is updrafts and wind shear and straight line winds.
That is, until I had children.
Suddenly, the intensity of severe weather sparked fear into the depths of my being. No longer did I desire to be in the middle of the vortex, but instead sought to be as far away from any hint of danger as possible. Those cravings for adventure were pushed aside to make way for the monotony of safety and security.
Despite the fact that my children are older, nothing can paralyze my very core like the threat of severe weather. And if you add someone else’s children into the equation – children that are under my direct care and are dependent on me for their safety and well-being – well, then, you’ve just exponentially multiplied my motherly fear factor.
So when the skies started to turn unfriendly last night, my defenses went up. Way up. Instantaneously. Outwardly, I do a pretty good job of maintaining a calm exterior, of keeping up a sense of humor and optimism, and of minimizing the inner turmoil I am experiencing. But don’t let that fool you. If I hadn’t been sitting down, you would have heard my knees knocking. If I hadn’t been wearing a baggy t-shirt, you could have seen my heart pounding. And if I hadn’t had to carry a 5-gallon bucket and a water bottle and a laundry list of other items, you would have seen my hands shaking.
As our boys worked on their leather projects, we began to notice a definite shift in the winds. The edge of a large complex of clouds began to appear, and iphones began chirping throughout the camp. Images on radar showed a huge storm, about an hour away, heading straight for our camp. Currently dumping large hail and heavy rain, the storm also showed possibilities of rotation and tornadic activity. Shortly thereafter, as we sat atop the hill in an open area, we began to notice lightning. One strike at first, very far away, but then more frequent…and closer. We had only been to two rotations, but we felt certain we wouldn’t attend many more. The phone calls were coming faster and more frequently, showing the speed of this storm and warning us to seek shelter while we still had time. We waited and watched while the camp leaders observed and assessed the weather, trying to make a determination on whether camp could continue or not.
The rotation finally ended and we were able to go and eat dinner. However, our group had already made the decision to evacuate. This storm was severe, we had ten children plus one papoose between our three leaders, and we weren’t willing to take any chances with their – or our – safety. In record time, we checked out all eleven children and hustled away to the parking lot as quickly as we could. As we walked, we noticed the dark skies, the flashes of lightning and the ever-increasing wind. Jaime had only her son with her, so as soon as we reached the parking lot the two of them got in the car and hurried home. Jane had her son and four other boys from her den, but they had met at her house, which was only a few minutes’ drive from the camp. They all piled in and made it home before the storm even hit.
My situation, however, was a little different. I had one boy whose parents met me at a nearby gas station. I had two other boys who lived close to each other to take to their homes. And then I had about a 10-minute drive from there to get to our own house. We were looking at about 30 minutes’ worth of traveling before I could get my children safely home.
We got to the gas station where the first boy’s mother was there and waiting for us. I felt so relieved to know that at least he was in the care of his own parents and said a prayer that his brothers would arrive quickly and they would make it home safely.
But that was as far as we got.
We only made it a couple miles down the road before all hell broke loose. The sky went green and we were in the midst of some of the worst weather Mother Nature could throw at us. Swirling winds, bending and twisting the branches of trees, driving rain pouring in sheets from the sky, and constant flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. Visibility was near zero and with the debris flying around, not to mention the quickly-flooding roads I began to wonder if we could even make it to the first house.
Praying furiously and trying to keep things calm, I made it to the final intersection before our turn. I decided to call ahead to see if I could pull around back to drop off rather than trying to run from the street to the front door. She instantly informed me we weren’t going anywhere. We were to pull around back and come in to her house until the worst of the storm passed us by. I didn’t argue. We pulled in to her driveway and got as close to the garage as possible. One by one, I helped the children pile out of the car and race inside, only to have each one in succession wipe out on the slippery garage floor.
We hung out there for about 20-30 minutes, during which time the storm gradually passed over us. Watching the radar we could see just how severe it had been, and how fortunate we were to be in the cover of safety. When I was confident the weather had settled down, I loaded up one last time, delivered the final camper to his house and drove home. Although our power had been knocked out, I was so happy to be under the shelter of our own roof!
Today, I am grateful for God’s protection…over me, over my children, and over “my boys.”