‘I don’t think I’ve slept an inch,’ pipes up a little voice from the far side of the bed.
Rufus, while clutching a glow stick, is dangling one arm off the side of the bed. The dangle is from necessity, because I’m lying on my side next to him, attempting to take up minimal space. Nuzzling into me is Billy, thumb in and the remnant of a cuddly monkey in hand. On the other side of the nuzzler is Jonathan, looking like he is balancing on the remaining portion of the bed.
We are hiding out in our basement room. The one that doubles as a guest bedroom (not much use for it at the moment) and Jonathan’s office. As we chase sleep while squished into one double bed, there is a storm raging outside. A storm that has progressed from thunder and lightening into tornado levels. Tornado enough that alarms have sounded, and the neighbouring communities have been instructed to shelter in basements and under tables.
Rapid fire lightening and house-shaking thunder have subsided a little as we’ve moved down into the underbelly of the house. And within an hour or so, it has dissipated and Billy and I migrate back upstairs.
The morning (which comes surprisingly early and energetically for two little sleep-deprived people) brings a windy, cloud-strewn sky with no apparent damage to our street. Fifteen minutes down the road havoc has been wrought. Twitter shows trees, houses and much more destroyed in the localised devastation of a tornado.
All the more so if you’re five and struggle with bacon-triggered smoke alarms, let alone ricocheting thunder claps. Fear has been a topic of conversation for a couple of months in our house, as it seems that re-entry into the world after the pandemic shutdown awakens more fears than there were before. We’re thankful for a God that never leaves us, who always loves us and who is more powerful than any storm, or even the prospect of the dentist. It’s a frequent prayer that our mighty God would help us be brave, and ‘bosh’ the fear.
Wonderfully, Rufus turned to me during the storm and said, ‘Do you know, Mummy, I’m being brave and it’s actually working!’
We’re thankful we avoided the destructive path of the storm, and are praying for continued ‘working’ bravery as we head to swimming lessons and then the dentist in the morning!