The God of Wind and Rain

March 1985. I was a junior in high school. We lived in a very large twenties era house owned by a hotshot lawyer in town. The rent was a few days late and a sheriff came to the door to tell us we had to move in thirty days. This was on a Monday or a Tuesday. We thought we had plenty of time.
Friday, lunchtime. I was pondering participles in my English class when I was called out to the hallway. Somebody met me there and told me they had driven by my house and saw people throwing things out of the upstairs windows onto the lawn. I hurriedly ran to the phone and called Mom who came to get me. We frantically pulled up to the house just in time to see someone throwing one of my great grandmother's hurricane lamps out the window and onto the lawn below, which was littered with our belongings. The men were laughing at our anguish as they continued to toss things out the door and windows. Apparently they had been at it for some time because most of our things were outside. The refrigerator, the ancient upright piano, all of our clothes, record albums, food, everything thrown out on the lawn in a haphazard jumble. The men had been sent by the lawyer who had taken things into his own hands, unwilling to wait the full thirty days for us to move. They soon finished the job and drove off in a pick up truck, still laughing as we stood among the wreckage of our lives in the light drizzling rain.
By this time my sisters had arrived home from school and my mother had arranged for a place to move all of our stuff. Slowly, one pick up load at a time we began moving the things off of our lawn and into shelter.
In the early evening my aunt came over to help. We worked all night in the light drizzle until about midnight or one AM. My mom was off with the latest load and my sisters and aunt and I were standing together under the front porch awning. As we talked it began to pour. We still had a lot of stuff on the lawn and were very worried about everything getting wet. As we stood there my aunt began to pray. I will never forget it. "Lord, You are the God of the wind and rain and we ask You now to stop the rain until we can get all this stuff under shelter. In Jesus name. Amen." As we opened our eyes and lifted our heads the rain began to lift and then stopped. To say we were amazed would be a huge understatement. But there was more to come. A little while later the rain began to pour. She prayed a second time: "Lord again we ask you to stop the rain, in Jesus name." Again as we opened our eyes the rain stopped.
Mom came back; we loaded up the pick up for the umpteenth time and she left.
A while later the rain really began to come down. Again as we gathered under the porch she began to pray. This time though the rain did not lesson. Did God not hear us? Did He not choose to answer? Was our stuff going to be ruined? As we looked around we realized that every single thing left outside was now covered by plastic and not a thing was getting wet. Standing there under the front porch we were comforted by the presence of God in a very, very tangible way. In the midst of injustice and our temporary homelessness He was there.

This was a very difficult thing to write about. I really had to think about it before I began to type. It's very hard to relive the pain of that day; hard for me to relate it and I'm sure it will be hard for my family to read about. However, out of that dark, dark day came a revelation that God is who He says He is and it's worth the shaking hands on the keyboard and tears to let other people know. God is there. He cares. He loves. He IS.

Beginnings, Endings, and New Beginnings...

I'm just a little melancholy this week in thinking about the upcoming school year. I can't believe the summer is already gone but what I really can't believe is that my little girl is going to be a senior. We spent last night perusing colleges and scholarship websites and I could not help wonder where the time has gone. I'm very excited for her and seeing her make the choices that will become the foundation of her life but also a little sad for myself. My baby will be leaving me. I feel like I'm standing in the wake of the speedboat of her childhood wondering how it went by so fast. So many things come to mind when I think about her...

When they brought her to me the first time (It was my birthday, and I couldn't believe I could have such a wonderful gift) she was a few hours old and they pushed her in in the little bassinet and said "Hey Mommy, here is your daughter." I thought to myself "daughter! Wow, nobody has ever called me Mommy before!" It was an amazing feeling.

We were so inept though at the logistics of parenthood. We learned really fast the first rule of babyhood, NEVER think you won't need the diaper bag even if you are only going out for a minute. We took her to her first two week appt. and left it in the car...silly us...the doc wanted to examine her and took off the diaper and threw it away and we didn't have a spare. While we were debating about whether we should go out to the car and get the diaper bag or borrow a diaper from the docs office, she peed all over the table. That ended THAT discussion. I think the Dr. felt kind of sorry for us as he leaned into the other room and requested a diaper for us. A couple of minutes later she started crying because she was hungry and we didn't have the bottle, and then her bellybutton started bleeding and when the Dr. looked in her mouth discovered she had thrush...I'm sure he was shaking his head when we left the office wondering what this poor kid was in for with parents like us.
We learned pretty fast though. I loved being a mom and loved to give her a bath and dress her up in pretty little dresses then put her in the stroller and show her off to the other moms in the neighborhood. I remember even thinking one time "wow, this motherhood thing is pretty easy! Nothing to it!"
I laugh at myself now, of course...

Then there were the times she made me laugh...I was downstairs in the kitchen once and I heard something upstairs. She was about two I think and was supposed to be in bed. I went upstairs to investigate and found her in the bathroom filling the toilet with billows and billows of toilet paper! And then one time while drinking a glass of milk (sometime later)I thought it tasted funny and went to look at the milk and found a baby wipe in the carton! (a fresh one) No wonder the milk tasted like soap! Now who could have done that?!!
...And then once while driving down the highway in San Diego and listening to Tommy's favorite cassette tape with Lionel Ritchie singing "Brick House", We heard this little four year old voice in the back seat belting out "she's a BRICK--HOOOOWSSE!!" in a very gutteral Lionel Ritchie type voice...We almost had a wreck we couldn't stop laughing, and then there was the time (also driving) she gave us the entire commercial for "Safety can" from the back seat. (still chuckling over that).



And the times she scared me...When Tommy was on his first deployment, the day he left actually, I was resting in the afternoon in the EZ chair after a bad day (the washing machine chose that day to die, of course) and she wanders in with a Combat in her mouth, and while I was on the phone with poison control she comes back in the room with a broken glass Christmas ball in her mouth! And then while I was at work once I had the urge to call home and make sure everything was ok only to find out she had had a bad fall and hit her head. I didn't know how bad it was until later when I got home but when I saw the huge goose egg on her head I got really scared. And then once I caught her drinking Matt's Erythromiacin...don't know how she got the childproof cap off...

And then the times she made me proud...She excelled in school from the very first. The only one to write a complete sentence in Kindergarten during a test, she wrote "I love my Mommy". That still brings a lump. She was in the second grade spelling bee and I didn't go because I thought two year old Ally would be too hard to keep quiet...She won that spelling bee...and I am still kicking myself all these years later for not being there, restless baby or not.

The years just seemed to fly by...eighth grade, ninth grade, band, flag team, then flag captain, learning to drive, and dual highschool/college classes, and now a job...I swear I just blinked and here stands before me this almost grown woman with thoughts, and views, and personality all her own. And soon a life of her own too. I just hope the one thing she takes with her is the knowledge of how much she was loved, despite mistakes we may have made along the way. I hope now that as she begins the foundation for her own life we can add another dimension to our relationship, that of friend as well as daughter.

Time Flying by and Monkeys Escaping the Barrel

I ignored the alarm going off in my ear and snuggled deeper in the covers, but I was awake. First day of school. Back to the regular routine of early wake ups, making lunches and heading out in the early morning to face the day.
I reached for my cell phone and called my son to wake him up in the next room. (Hey no use letting all that technology go to waste.) I then called my daughter downstairs but she didn't answer so I reluctantly climbed out of bed and shuffled my way downstairs to her room. The usual routine was definitely under way, it seemed.
I stopped by my youngest daughter's room to awaken her and then headed back to the kitchen to start the morning lunch making process. Lunch boxes out. Baggies out. Chips, cookies, bread, ham, cheese, mustard, juice, ditto.
By the time I had the lunches assembled the older kids were already dressed and their friends were  showing up at the door. I took a moment to get myself dressed and grabbed my camera for those all too important back to school shots .
The older kids were horsing around on the front porch, unusual for them to get along so well, but this morning they had something in common. They were both going to be in high school this year and they were heading out early so the junior could give the freshman a tour of the campus before it all started.
I finished the shots and headed back in to make sure my youngest was actually out of bed. She was alert and ready to go. Her backpack had been ready and clothes had been picked out for two days. She grabbed a breakfast bar and I helped her with her hair and then she too was on the porch for the snapshots. We got in the car and headed out for school which was only a few blocks away. As she exited the vehicle I leaned out the window and got one last shot of her entering the building for her first day of sixth grade.
I came back home and entered the very quiet house. There was no sound. No slamming doors, no running feet, no loud voices. No M-O-O-OMMM!(s) no MO-ther!(s) no Hey, momsies? Just the hum of the fridge and the sound of the garbage man grinding his gears as he rode past the house.
I stood looking out the kitchen window at the still bright summer sky and thinking about how fast things change. Before I am ready for it the leaves will be turning and dropping off the trees and another winter will be upon us. Before I am ready for it my kids will be grown and gone and setting out on their own adventures leaving me with only 4x6 snaps to remember this day.
I turned away from the window to head up to my room. As I looked down on the floor I spied two red monkeys that escaped from the barrel and ended up on the kitchen floor. I smiled as I went on my way. Escaping TOYS. Maybe time isn't moving so fast, after all.