Have you ever felt like you really just don't know what to worry about first? I feel like I am in a burning house and everyone is running around grabbing the things that need to be saved, and I am standing there screaming, "What's on fire?"
For starters, my house STILL has not sold. It has been one year. I talked to my realtor on Sunday and she told me that the market is pretty sucky and that leasing my house for 2 years might not be a bad idea. Well, we have a crap ton of equity in that house, and it selling is the only way we can purchase a house here in the motherland. Before the mortgage crisis, we could have bought a house here and paid PMI, until we sold our house and then we could have refinanced. Now they aren't letting buyers do that. Even ones with excellent credit.
Second, my son is sick. I won't go into the details, for his privacy, but he's sick and it sucks. It especially sucks because there is ABSOLUTELY nothing I can physcially do for him. nothing.
Third, we are not that many years from retirement, and we are watching the possibility of our retirement packages going down the tubes. I'm trying not to panic about that. Mike and I talked this morning, and we agreed that if we lost our retirement, that our later years will just look different than we thought they would.
I could go on, but it would only make my stomach hurt, and I am choosing to walk in truth today. The truth is that God IS in control. And even though I can't possibly fathom one iota of what is going on I can grasp the idea that God reigns supreme. My faith is all I can lean on right now, and so I will.
All that to say, I'm choosing not to sit in a burning house and looking for fire. It won't benefit me anyway. Though the earth trembles and the mountains fall into the sea, still my God reigns.
Happy 27
Today is the 27th anniversary of my wedding day. A lot has changed in 27 years, and not just the color of my hair. We have traversed some pretty turbulent waters and suffered much loss. We have lost a child, lost parents and grandparents, lost jobs, lost weight (gained it back!) lost our minds and lost our youth.
But oh what we have gained. We have gained a deeper respect for one another. We have gained a love that surpasses time and circumstance. We have gained insight into each other's thoughts and reactions. We have gained a desire to grow closer to each other.
All that to say, today and forever, I now pronounce us husband and wife.
But oh what we have gained. We have gained a deeper respect for one another. We have gained a love that surpasses time and circumstance. We have gained insight into each other's thoughts and reactions. We have gained a desire to grow closer to each other.
All that to say, today and forever, I now pronounce us husband and wife.
What Can Brown Do for Me?
I mentioned on my post on Tuesday that I didn't go buy a surplus of groceries, even though I have power now, because I know too many people who got power, then lost power. I don't want to go buy a bunch of groceries, then lose my power, and then lose my groceries.
I don't normally live my life from a place of fear. I have lived that way. And it was draining and awful. So I try not to live my life or make decisions about my life based on fear. HOWEVER, today a friend told me that her power got turned off yesterday and she STILL doesn't have power.
Another friend told me that the power company told her that she might be experiencing "brown outs" for weeks! BROWN OUTS!!! What is that? It sounds terrible!! Apparently it is where they pick certain grids and turn off their power for a few hours or a few days, to allow them to supply power to other grids, because APPARENTLY Hurricane Ike wiped out our ability to produce enough power for everyone. AND, people who get their power turned back on become power hogs, with everyone doing laundry, vaccuming their houses, running the A/C for 24 hours non-stop etc. (which by the way is EXACTLY what we did when our power got turned back on).
All that to say, I still have power, but I am not buying groceries, because well, quite frankly, I am worried about what BROWN will do for me. :)
I don't normally live my life from a place of fear. I have lived that way. And it was draining and awful. So I try not to live my life or make decisions about my life based on fear. HOWEVER, today a friend told me that her power got turned off yesterday and she STILL doesn't have power.
Another friend told me that the power company told her that she might be experiencing "brown outs" for weeks! BROWN OUTS!!! What is that? It sounds terrible!! Apparently it is where they pick certain grids and turn off their power for a few hours or a few days, to allow them to supply power to other grids, because APPARENTLY Hurricane Ike wiped out our ability to produce enough power for everyone. AND, people who get their power turned back on become power hogs, with everyone doing laundry, vaccuming their houses, running the A/C for 24 hours non-stop etc. (which by the way is EXACTLY what we did when our power got turned back on).
All that to say, I still have power, but I am not buying groceries, because well, quite frankly, I am worried about what BROWN will do for me. :)
The Indictment
I drove to HEB (that's a Texas grocery store chain) last night around 9:00. I was hoping to find short lines, but people were still there by the hundreds. I haven't been to a grocery store since Monday of last week. No real reason to go. I was surprised to find meat on the shelves. And ice cream and frozen pizza and yogurt.
I put my few purchases in my basket and went to get in the very long checkout lines. The "express" line was not going to be any faster than any other line, so I chose one. Most people were like me. They had 4 or 5 items at most. As the cashier started to check out my goods (that sounds weird, but I've rewritten that sentence a bunch of times and it always sounds bad) the bag boy (is that what they are called?) started putting my groceries in a bag when he stopped, looked up at me, and said "You have power, don't you?," his tone dripping with the sound of indictment.
I looked down, afraid to make eye contact, totally understanding that sound in his voice as I have asked that same question many times in the last 11 days. "yes" I mumbled weakly. "i just got it an hour ago."
I HAVE POWER!!!!! I bought milk, eggs and creamer for my coffee. That was it. I have heard too many stories about people's power coming on and then going off again. In a few days, maybe I will go buy groceries. But for now, I slept in my own bed, took a shower in my own bathroom, blow dried my hair AND did two loads of laundry. And that was enough.
All that to say, I have power. yeah. But I still have MANY friends who do not. So I will celebrate in a small way.
I put my few purchases in my basket and went to get in the very long checkout lines. The "express" line was not going to be any faster than any other line, so I chose one. Most people were like me. They had 4 or 5 items at most. As the cashier started to check out my goods (that sounds weird, but I've rewritten that sentence a bunch of times and it always sounds bad) the bag boy (is that what they are called?) started putting my groceries in a bag when he stopped, looked up at me, and said "You have power, don't you?," his tone dripping with the sound of indictment.
I looked down, afraid to make eye contact, totally understanding that sound in his voice as I have asked that same question many times in the last 11 days. "yes" I mumbled weakly. "i just got it an hour ago."
I HAVE POWER!!!!! I bought milk, eggs and creamer for my coffee. That was it. I have heard too many stories about people's power coming on and then going off again. In a few days, maybe I will go buy groceries. But for now, I slept in my own bed, took a shower in my own bathroom, blow dried my hair AND did two loads of laundry. And that was enough.
All that to say, I have power. yeah. But I still have MANY friends who do not. So I will celebrate in a small way.
Day Ten No Power
I thought it would be easier just to say the power status in the title line. Just in case that's all you checked in for, you'd be able to read and run. But yeah, day ten, no power. I saw them digging giant holes yesterday for new poles. And this morning as I was driving home from the place I slept at last night, I saw about 20 power trucks. So who knows? Maybe today.
Yestereday my church went back out to Timber Lakes/Timber Ridge http://www.photoblog.com/Sevenapples/ to pass out clothes and backpacks. Mike and I went out early to pass out flyers letting residents know what time to get there. As I approached one house, the doors and windows were all open. Inside lay on older man (maybe 65?) on his bed that was in the middle of the living room. He didn't move when I knocked on his door, so I called out, "Are you okay?" He sort of sat up and said, "I don't know."
His bed appeared to be piled high with clothing and a few other articles he obviously hoped to save. His carpet had been stripped down to the bare concrete, but you could still see the water line from the flood on his wet sheetrock. I said, "Sir, are you hurt? Do you need some help?"
He said, "I'm not hurt. I'm just tired. No one can tell me what I need to do. Some tell me start repairing things, but just take good pictures. Some tell me don't do nothin'. I pulled out my carpet, and I ain't got no camera, so I'm just gonna lay here until someone can tell me what to do."
In the same neighborhood, I met a woman carrying 3 empty gas cans. She had just filled up the generator at a hospice house. Three old people lay dying in that house. She asked me when they were getting electricity. I told her that I didn't know.
A few houses down I saw 4 little kids, the oldest of which was probably 8, playing in their driveway. Their parents were busy loading up their uhaul with what was left of their belongings. The rest of what they owned was lying in a heap on the edge of the street. The kids played as though nothing was wrong. The dad just hung his head and plodded along. The mom smiled weakly at me, thanked me, and then went back about her task.
I feel somewhat useless. I have no real help for these people. No real answers. So I just keep doing the little things. But I have discovered that the thing most of these people want is just someone to listen to their story. I heard a lot of stories yesterday. A lot of stories, through lots of tears.
All that to say, Day Ten, no power.
Yestereday my church went back out to Timber Lakes/Timber Ridge http://www.photoblog.com/Sevenapples/ to pass out clothes and backpacks. Mike and I went out early to pass out flyers letting residents know what time to get there. As I approached one house, the doors and windows were all open. Inside lay on older man (maybe 65?) on his bed that was in the middle of the living room. He didn't move when I knocked on his door, so I called out, "Are you okay?" He sort of sat up and said, "I don't know."
His bed appeared to be piled high with clothing and a few other articles he obviously hoped to save. His carpet had been stripped down to the bare concrete, but you could still see the water line from the flood on his wet sheetrock. I said, "Sir, are you hurt? Do you need some help?"
He said, "I'm not hurt. I'm just tired. No one can tell me what I need to do. Some tell me start repairing things, but just take good pictures. Some tell me don't do nothin'. I pulled out my carpet, and I ain't got no camera, so I'm just gonna lay here until someone can tell me what to do."
In the same neighborhood, I met a woman carrying 3 empty gas cans. She had just filled up the generator at a hospice house. Three old people lay dying in that house. She asked me when they were getting electricity. I told her that I didn't know.
A few houses down I saw 4 little kids, the oldest of which was probably 8, playing in their driveway. Their parents were busy loading up their uhaul with what was left of their belongings. The rest of what they owned was lying in a heap on the edge of the street. The kids played as though nothing was wrong. The dad just hung his head and plodded along. The mom smiled weakly at me, thanked me, and then went back about her task.
I feel somewhat useless. I have no real help for these people. No real answers. So I just keep doing the little things. But I have discovered that the thing most of these people want is just someone to listen to their story. I heard a lot of stories yesterday. A lot of stories, through lots of tears.
All that to say, Day Ten, no power.
The Hope of New Light
Day nine. No power in my neighborhood yet. It's funny that people now greet each other like this, "Hey, how'd you guys do? Got power yet?" Which translates to, "Did your house sustain damage. Is your electricity on yet?"
This morning at church someone asked me what I missed most about electricity. I had to think because the list was long and often petty. I miss my blow dryer. I miss hot water. I miss having light to shower by. I miss seeing what I am picking out to wear in my closet. I miss the news. I miss the internet (though now that most things near us have electricity, I do have options). I miss cooking. I miss the dishwasher. So, I just shrugged my shoulders and picked one of the above.
We sang a lot of songs about darkness.
When I call on Your name You answer
When I fall You are there by my side
You delivered me out of darkness
Now I stand in the hope of new life.
I had to laugh this morning when we sang this song. I certainly have not been delivered out of the darkness, at least not the physical kind. But the reason I laughed is because I always thought the words to this song were, "Now I stand in the hope of new light." Not new life.
I think, for this present darkness, "Now I stand in the hope of new light" makes way more sense.
All that to say, Awaiting power. Day Nine. But I do have hope. Both the hope of new light, and new life. "Though the earth shakes, and the mountains fall into the sea, I will not tremble for my God reigns."
This morning at church someone asked me what I missed most about electricity. I had to think because the list was long and often petty. I miss my blow dryer. I miss hot water. I miss having light to shower by. I miss seeing what I am picking out to wear in my closet. I miss the news. I miss the internet (though now that most things near us have electricity, I do have options). I miss cooking. I miss the dishwasher. So, I just shrugged my shoulders and picked one of the above.
We sang a lot of songs about darkness.
When I call on Your name You answer
When I fall You are there by my side
You delivered me out of darkness
Now I stand in the hope of new life.
I had to laugh this morning when we sang this song. I certainly have not been delivered out of the darkness, at least not the physical kind. But the reason I laughed is because I always thought the words to this song were, "Now I stand in the hope of new light." Not new life.
I think, for this present darkness, "Now I stand in the hope of new light" makes way more sense.
All that to say, Awaiting power. Day Nine. But I do have hope. Both the hope of new light, and new life. "Though the earth shakes, and the mountains fall into the sea, I will not tremble for my God reigns."
Ike the Saga
Day Eight without power. I drive through lit up neighborhoods, hoping all the way home that I, too, will be in the "current flow," only to find that I am still surrounded by darkness. I hate the dark. I really hate it now.
People I know who lost something valuable:
John and Kelly, their home.
Matt and Tracey, their home and health.
Asia, a stranger I met whose house flooded. She lost her pink bible. She said it was her "one thing" that she really was sad about.
Laura, her addiction to coffee (I met her in an "ice line" at HEB on day four).
Misty, her faith in God. I sure hope she finds it again.
Some funny/odd things have happened though.
I might have mentioned earlier that our house smells like dead shrimp from the shrimp that defrosted in our freezer. It still does.
Two nights ago, our upstairs neighbors decided to have an "all nighter." Keep in mind we all have to sleep with our windows open. Seriously people. Come on.
We loaned our truck to some people to haul trees off their property. Apparently something heavy and red fell on it and smashed the tailgate down. Discovered that this morning.
We were helping a friend clean out their flooded house the other day. Insulation was everywhere. Said homeowner friend commented about being sick of being covered in insulation everyday and another person there said, "Do you go home and rub pantyhose on yourself every night?" We all died laughing. The look on the homeowner's face was priceless. (Apparently he didn't know that you could remove insulation from your skin by rubbing pantyhose on yourself . . . tuck that one away for future use!)
Other oddities:
Handwritten cardboard signs in front of big fancy restaurants that say, "We are open."
People saying, "I heard they have milk at Kroger!" in the same voice they might say "Gold is falling from the sky!"
People standing in line to buy gloves and boxes at Home Depot. Some for hours. Some who never see the front of the line before the store closes.
All that to say, you know the saying, "It looks like a hurricane went through here!"? Well, I have a whole new understanding of the statement.
People I know who lost something valuable:
John and Kelly, their home.
Matt and Tracey, their home and health.
Asia, a stranger I met whose house flooded. She lost her pink bible. She said it was her "one thing" that she really was sad about.
Laura, her addiction to coffee (I met her in an "ice line" at HEB on day four).
Misty, her faith in God. I sure hope she finds it again.
Some funny/odd things have happened though.
I might have mentioned earlier that our house smells like dead shrimp from the shrimp that defrosted in our freezer. It still does.
Two nights ago, our upstairs neighbors decided to have an "all nighter." Keep in mind we all have to sleep with our windows open. Seriously people. Come on.
We loaned our truck to some people to haul trees off their property. Apparently something heavy and red fell on it and smashed the tailgate down. Discovered that this morning.
We were helping a friend clean out their flooded house the other day. Insulation was everywhere. Said homeowner friend commented about being sick of being covered in insulation everyday and another person there said, "Do you go home and rub pantyhose on yourself every night?" We all died laughing. The look on the homeowner's face was priceless. (Apparently he didn't know that you could remove insulation from your skin by rubbing pantyhose on yourself . . . tuck that one away for future use!)
Other oddities:
Handwritten cardboard signs in front of big fancy restaurants that say, "We are open."
People saying, "I heard they have milk at Kroger!" in the same voice they might say "Gold is falling from the sky!"
People standing in line to buy gloves and boxes at Home Depot. Some for hours. Some who never see the front of the line before the store closes.
All that to say, you know the saying, "It looks like a hurricane went through here!"? Well, I have a whole new understanding of the statement.
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