March 2024

March 2024
Over the years, we've always compared our family life to a wagon train heading west. Just as everyone had to do his part to get to Oregon years ago, so everyone in our family must do his/her part to make our journey through life successful. If somebody climbs in the wagon and lets the others do the work, we just don't make any progress. We all have to pull our weight and work together. Along the trail we find lots of pebbles that make for a smooth ride and some bigger rocks that jar us a little; we hit the occasional pothole that can slow us down. But if we purpose to search diligently, there are countless gold nuggets and precious gemstones along the way as well. This journal is an attempt to preserve some of those precious moments for our children, and our children's children, as together we travel this trail called life.

Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16:11


Monday, November 25, 2013

11-25-13 A Tornado Testimony

Published with permission from the author, who wishes to remain anonymous. My deepest appreciation to this sister for sharing her experience. I was blessed and hope you will be also.
Dear Family,

I've been wanting to tell you about the Washington tornado but the words would not come to me until now, 4 days later. Last Saturday, my friend invited me and several other sisters to her home, where we sat visiting well into the night. The main topic of conversation involved God and how involved He is with our lives. One thought that I continually brought up - more as a question, but also as a statement - was that God does not necessarily interfere with nature, but that He gives grace to His own when adversity strikes. I really hammered it in...even when others attempted to tell me that they are sure that God does interfere more than we realize. I was skeptical.

The next morning, unseasonably warm, we sat side by side under the preaching of Romans 5, especially verse 1. "Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." The brother spoke of death. He said that when we are truly at peace with God, we may fear the process of dying, but we do not fear death itself because we look forward to meeting our Lord. It was a call to the unbeliever, but also profound to the believers as the events of the day followed.

During the final prayer, cell phone weather alerts sounded throughout the sanctuary (not that I'm a proponent of cell phones in the sanctuary:), and shortly the town sirens sounded. Brother Ron finished up the service with the announcements and then encouraged us to be seated at the lunch tables but to be ready to follow the direction of the trustees if necessary. As we filed out, the trustees announced that everyone that is able should go to the lunch tables and sit down, and everyone else should go to the large Sunday School room. For most of us, it was not the first time that we had to take shelter from a storm at church...it's Illinois. But I was scared. Something was different today--something in the air. We all sat at the lunch tables just staring at the food. People made fruitless attempts at jests to lighten the mood. Some poked at the food, trying to feel normal. And at that point, none of us were exactly convinced that we needed to fear. Our fear, you might say, was in check.

But then, the trustees announced that we all must move to the Sunday School room. "Do not move too quickly, but please do move quickly." Must have spotted a cell somewhere close by in the sky. A little more serious, but the chances of it actually touching down and hitting us are slim. Yet upon entering the large room the brothers called out, "We need everyone to move in to the small Sunday School rooms - please move quickly." A few brave souls still rolled their eyes as we packed tightly in to the small, windowless rooms.

At this point, I was separated from my friends. Husbands, wives, children were separated. Everyone just moved into the nearest room and we knew that there was real danger. I looked around and knew that we were not in a safe place. It was at this time that the stillness came--the stillness you always hear about that precedes a tornado. The air was tight, the lights flickered and went out, and it was perfectly still. No one spoke. Then one of the trustees shouted, "Get down!" We knelt down, covered our heads the way we learned in elementary school. The sister beside me wrapped her arm around me. The entire room prayed and prayed. I hope I never forget two things from that moment: 1) the tiny light of a cell phone...just one little light in blackness...and what a comfort it was, and 2) glancing up from my prayer only to see brothers and sisters, heads bowed to the floor, some clutching each other--lips moving in fervent prayer.

Then Brother Fred began to pray out loud...thanked God that He sees us, begged Him to calm our hearts...and then we heard that awful sound. There was no question what it was. It grew louder and louder--not quickly, but steadily. We heard the debris thumping against the building and Bro. Fred continued to pray through the roar. He prayed that "we know there was a time when the disciples were on the stormy sea with Jesus and they were terrified and affrighted," and He confessed that we, too, are afraid. He prayed and prayed all through the tornado.

It is hard to judge the time frame. Probably only a couple of minutes, but it seemed much longer. All I know is that I was bracing myself for the hit, hoping that it was not a big enough tornado to make the building collapse on us, hoping it was just one of those little twisters that clips a few barns and a few roofs, but somehow feeling that if it hits, the casualties will be great. I wish I could explain that feeling. It's the "if" in that statement that I hesitate to include because at the time, I really believed that it was not if, but when. But the sound died away, gradually, never becoming as loud as I thought it should. I tried to tell myself that I must have overreacted. It was just another little Illinois storm after all. Yet my stomach was in knots, and I could not shake the feeling that my life had been spared. The roar never grew as loud as I thought it should because the tornado took a path directly between two churches filled with people - the 2 churches less than a half mile apart from each other!

I have relived another moment from that day repeatedly this week. It was the moment when we heard the words, "It has passed." At first, no one moved. I wonder if it's because everyone was preoccupied with another prayer right then--"Thank you, Lord." Brother Fred broke the silence with another prayer for anyone who may at this time be in the path of the tornado, or for anyone who at this time has been hurt by the tornado. I was picturing during that prayer some destroyed barns, a few ripped roofs, maybe even a house torn in two. Another Illinois storm. I hoped that if people were home they had made it to their basements.

Then the trustees ordered everyone who is able to walk quickly across the parking lot to the condos basement, which is where we should have been during the tornado. There were 3 more tornado cells in the sky, and we were not yet safe. Exiting the building, the first thing I noticed was the sky. Definitely ominous. Next I saw the debris, some still in the air, but most cluttering the earth. Definitely not safe. Last I saw a pile. It was a house right across and diagonal from the church. Now it lay in ruins. I had already convinced myself that I had overreacted, so I was not expecting to see a house leveled--especially so near the church.

We packed into the condos basement. The mood had lightened significantly. Cell phones were showing improved weather conditions. But we waited just in case. Rumor made its way that there had been casualties in the town. We prayed for the people. The Washington church people were worried. Husbands found wives and children, and soon small pockets of friends began to form and converse. I had the privilege of standing by myself and observing. At one point, a brother received a phone call. I did not pay much attention until he lifted the phone from his mouth and told his wife, "Honey, our house is gone."

"What? What did you say?"
"Our house is gone. And all the buildings."
"Our house is gone? Honey, are you sure?"
"It's gone. The neighbors called to make sure we were not in the basement."

An older single sister gathered the courage to ask someone with a phone to see if her house was in the path of the tornado. It was.

The mood became more serious again, as cell phones began to reveal the extent of the damage. It wasn't just homes people were worried about. Unconverted children, neighbors, friends...even pets.

When all was clear and we exited the tornado shelter, the church people meandered around somewhat in a stupor. We glanced across the field and noticed another home flattened. I had not noticed it because I did not know a home had been there before. It was flattened. The parking lot was covered with shattered glass from the air pressure change (for some reason my windows did not shatter!) The yard was covered with...people's homes. We did not realize it yet, but we found out soon enough.

By the time we reached home, the national news blared Washington, IL. I still did not realize the extent of the damage, however, until the next day when I joined a Bradford team to help Washington Church clean up its yard. First of all, very few people from Washington were present--they have most all been affected by the tornado, several losing homes or half of their homes, or roofs. So it was mainly Bradford Church working. Then, you couldn't help but notice the traffic jams and flashing lights everywhere. Police were requiring proof of residency to even enter the town. It was too dangerous for goose-necks, with gas lines spewing and electrical wires strewn everywhere. Washington church is on the edge of town, so I was able to get there the back way.

Our job was to pick up debris--piles upon piles of shingles, plywood splinters, baby books, a sock here, a doll there, a command hook, a birthday hat, a twisted piece of a register, a shirt, house siding, house studs--everything ripped, twisted. And then you would find a coloring sheet in perfect condition. The garbage truck would come by periodically to pick up our piles. I did not have the heart to call it a garbage truck, though, when we were throwing people's homes away. It turns out that just across the road from the church (not a mile away), was an entire subdivision destroyed. When I realized how many houses had blown away my surprise turned from how much debris there was to how little!

Washington schools will be closed for 2 weeks at least. The town is a wreck. I simply cannot believe what has happened in a mere 15 minutes.

So my question is, can I hold to my belief that God does not interfere with nature? In the 15,000 population town, where 1000 homes were damaged or destroyed...and I know that the number destroyed is in the hundreds...not a single church was hit. It could have swooped down from the sky just a mite to the left or right and the Washington, IL tornado news report would have a very different story to tell. It would not be the hundreds of homes making the headlines, but the hundreds of lost lives. I think I'm able to believe that God had a hand in the path of that tornado.

Also, as I reflect on those minutes when we sat waiting and wondering, completely helpless and at the mercy of God, I realize that during those final moments, there was no time to make things right, to correct any wrongs, even to seek God's forgiveness. My thoughts were consumed. I thought about a wrong that I had not made right with someone, but it was too late. I did not feel condemned, but I did feel profound regret. It behooves me to live a pure life everyday so that when my time does come, I will be ready. We were too consumed with bracing ourselves for the hit to quick repent. It was a day when we had to be ready. It is a comfort to me, however, that my fear was not a fear of death. Definitely a fear of dying--I didn't want to be trapped under a pile of bricks and suffocate to death--but the death itself was not my fear. The minister that morning was right. "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

1 comment:

  1. We had seen this and also found it interesting! Quite the story... glad the author was willing to let you post it! She told my Dad that she wrote it for her family, and was surprised how much it had gotten around! This is the second blog I know of that it's been on.

    -Sarah

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