You never quite know when you wake up in the morning what is going to happen to you that day. But one thing is important to remember:

God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
    though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah – Psalm 46:1-3

 It’s in the small choices and small decisions that we face every day where we have a choice – a choice to be fearful based on circumstances or to be full of trust and faith in the reliability and faithfulness of a Person – Jesus Christ, our dearest friend. It’s the small choices to trust God that help us when the storms of life come in strong.

Daily I flounder and fail and yet He remains strong and steadfast. And even when the earth is removed, He stands firm and constant, caring about me. Loving me. Protecting me. Never leaving my side.

This has been my testimony today and I am bursting to sing it on the rooftops (or write it on my blog) of this one thing that stays true: God is pure goodness.

At 7:30 pm two nights ago, we left the Cheverly Pool due to a rumble of thunder. Looked like there might be one of our frequent summer storms brewing, so we headed home. No sooner had we returned home and put the kids in the tub, when out of nowhere, a Microburst swept into our little community…something we just weren’t expecting. I was on the phone with KitchenAid, seeking to secure a replacement food processor since mine had just broken. Joel was bathing the kids. I stepped out onto the sunporch thinking that I could get a little quiet to have the phone conversation. I looked out the windows and immediately knew that was the last place I should be. The wind blew hard and sideways, the sky looked green, hail was coming down, and branches began to break up and smack against the windows. In a split second, Joel yelled “this looks like a tornado! get in the basement!” We pulled two very wet and very naked children out of the tub and hauled ourselves into the southwest corner of our basement (which, by the way, is the place to be, in a tornado).

Let me share with you something in a moment of pure honesty and transparency – when you are holding two wet, terrified babes in your arms with another growing in your belly, huddled in the corner of the basement, listening to what sounds like rocks beating against your house in pure darkness, what is important and unimportant is totally evident and unmistakable.

The babes were important. The house was not. Nor the car. Or the lovely garden. Or even the fun swing in the back (which, i will say, did survive).

So as Grace and I sat there in the darkness, I lead her in a prayer – for what was important. For our neighbors safety, for people who might have been caught outside during the storm, for our home to not collapse on us (because it felt that it likely might) – but most importantly, we cried out for the protection, deliverance, and mercy of our God and for his angels to surround our home.

When we emerged, we found what you see pictured above – our large, 80-100 year old oak tree in the front yard, cut in two and lying in the middle of the road. We were told by our Mayor that our tree was the largest that fell in our neighborhood. Miraculously, no one was injured. No home was damaged. One car was completely totaled and another damaged (Grace’s new word for the day was ‘damaged’). Our own new car stood untouched in our driveway, mere inches from the base of the tree’s now de-captitated trunk.

Along with the neighbors on our street who began to surround us and help us sort through the mess, we marveled at the fact that if the tree had fallen in any other direction, it would have most certainly landed on one of the houses. We could have been killed. We were spared.

In a moment, in a matter of 15 minutes time, we were both impacted and spared, sobered and satisfied, shaken yet whole. We stood in awe at the mercy of God. We gave thanks repeatedly for His protection of us and our neighbors. And I remembered as I looked at our tree that life is indeed a vapor and that I am not promised tomorrow.

But God wanted me to have tomorrow for now. And for this, I am soaking in the rays of today’s sunshine with fresh gratitude.

And so, as the sun went down, I lit the candles out of necessity to see and realized what I was actually doing and what day it was.

It was sundown on the Sabbath. And to Grace and to God I whispered with awe, “Shabbat Shalom” – Sabbath Peace rest upon our home. And indeed it did.