Material well-being is not my focus, especially not the way it was in my past. My early adult years were spent desiring and accumulating trendsetting fashion, the head turning car, the awe-inspiring home with the manicured lawn and all the nice touches that made me feel like I was living a successful life. Having children and growing wiser spiritually and emotionally lent itself to diminishing my desire for things and appreciating people more. I have spent the last few years eager to purge myself of the excesses I have accumulated over time. I still value a lot of my belongings for sentimental reasons, but the malevolent side of nature has made an indelible impression on me and taken me one step further in severing my attachment to my possessions.
A significant tornado outbreak affected parts of the Midwest from May 19-31, 2013. The heaviest destruction was in Moore, Oklahoma ~ just 1.2 miles south of my home. My family and I spent a hot, sweaty hour in our underground storm shelter during one of the more violent tornadoes. Huddled together, we listened to the winds rage outside and above, sure that even if our house was not plucked from its foundation that we would emerge from our steel box to find an unrecognizable mess surrounding our home. Much to our surprise and relief, there was very little damage and very little debris.
Our neighbors just a few
miles away were not to make the same discovery.
Homes, businesses and cars were decimated. Whole neighborhoods unrecognizable as their
structures lay like matchsticks on the ground.
An earthquake can reduce a house to rubble, but a tornado can suck up
all in its path and disgorge it miles away.
The National Weather Service
and our local weather stations do an outstanding job of letting us know when a
weather event is imminent. No storm is
completely predictable, but they do a good job of narrowing down the time frame
so we citizens can be “weather aware”.
While we must stay glued to the news, it is surreal to watch a tornado
as it travels knowing full well the damage and fear the storm is inflicting. I quietly pray, thanking God that we have a
storm shelter and our lives will be spared then look around knowing that my
home may be another obstacle to be consumed by a hellish vortex. What about the picture of my Dad as a 15 year
old? What about the beautiful ceramic
vase I made back in high school? What about
the collage I just lovingly completed of the first road trip I took with my
husband? I momentarily consider how I
can save these mementoes, but I know I cannot take it all with me.
So I say goodbye to the
things ~ well not really ~ but quietly acknowledging that it is okay, because
they are just “things” and thank God again for the safety of my family.
