I put my feet up on the living room couch and switched on the TV. It felt nice to relax\u2014if only for a moment. Good Friday. A day off from my college classes. The kids\u2014James, 14, and Leslee, 10\u2014didn\u2019t have school either. It seemed like forever since I didn\u2019t have something pressing to worry about, the kids\u2019 school events, helping them with their homework, writing my own term paper, housework, errands. I\u2019m a single mom and sometimes it was all I could do to hold everything together.<\/p>\n
In the back of the house I heard boys laughing and shouting. I smiled at the racket. The house hadn\u2019t felt this alive since we\u2019d moved to Murfreesboro a little over a year ago. I\u2019d been thrilled when James had asked if five boys could spend the night. I was already planning to watch my seven-year-old niece, Adrian. Leslee was spending the weekend at a friend\u2019s house. It was great to see the kids adjusting so well. That was one thing I hadn\u2019t had to worry about.<\/p>\n
The TV went dark. Then it flashed to a team of news anchors. \u201cWe interrupt our regularly scheduled programming so we can bring you coverage of tornado activity in the Nashville area,\u201d one said. Tornado?<\/em> Outside, rain was falling, but it wasn\u2019t a storm. Must be someplace on the other side of the city<\/em>. Still, was there something I should do? I listened for more information but didn\u2019t get any.<\/p>\n That was the hardest part these days, feeling like so much depended on me. I longed to meet more people, to feel like I was part of a community. I\u2019d gone to church, wanting to put my trust in God, to have that comfort that no matter what things would be okay. But in the end, everything still seemed to fall on me.<\/p>\n \u201cThis just in,\u201d the TV anchor again broke in. \u201cThe National Weather Service is reporting that a tornado has been spotted over Interstate 24 near Murfreesboro.\u201d Interstate 24? That was only 20 minutes away! I looked outside. It was hailing. \u201cCool!\u201d shouted one of the boys. \u201cLet\u2019s go outside.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you\u2019re not,\u201d I said. \u201cThere\u2019s a tornado.\u201d I needed a plan. Fast. Some way to protect a houseful of kids. We needed to get away from windows. But where could we go? We didn\u2019t have a basement. An interior room, then. Someplace safe from falling objects. The bathroom was the most central room in the house. And it had a closet. But for eight people? There was no other choice.<\/p>\n \u201cListen,\u201d I said to the boys and Adrian. \u201cIf it gets worse, get in the bathroom.\u201d<\/p>\n The boys ran excited\u00adly between the front and back doors, opening them to watch the hail. Then I heard one call to me, \u201cMiss Kim, I think you better come look at this.\u201d I ran to the back door. A massive black cloud with flashes of blue light filled the sky. Omigosh!<\/em> I thought. It\u2019s coming right at us!<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cRun!\u201d I screamed. We scrambled to the bathroom closet. Then stopped. \u201cIs this where you meant?\u201d one of the boys asked. I knew what he was thinking. It was maybe five feet long and two feet deep. Too small. But already we could feel the air pressure pushing against us. There wasn\u2019t time to go anywhere else. James went in first. Then the other boys piled in, lying on top of each other. I lifted Adrian and handed her to James.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll be okay,\u201d I said, trying to hold back my rising fear. \u201cJames, whatever happens, don\u2019t let go of Adrian.\u201d I squeezed in last, my body bent like a pretzel, crouching over the kids\u2019 bodies. Somehow we managed to shut the doors. It seemed like there wasn\u2019t enough oxygen. We could hear rumbling outside getting louder, the air pressure literally squeezing us, as if the walls of the closet would crumble at any minute. Someone\u2014more than one person\u2014was crying. I could feel myself panicking. This closet was so rickety. I needed to do something. But what?<\/p>\n \u201cMom?\u201d I heard James say in the darkness.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, dear,\u201d I said, trying to keep my voice steady.<\/p>\n \u201cI think we should pray.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEveryone pray as loud as you can,\u201d I said. \u201cGod needs to hear us over the tornado.\u201d The tornado roared. The closet shook. But I could still hear the sound of voices praying, mine joining in.<\/p>\n \u201cDear God, please protect us. Save us! Help me keep these children safe!\u201d It felt like we prayed for hours.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Kim, something\u2019s hitting me.\u201d The top of the closet was falling in. The light fixture came loose and hit a boy in the head. Gray sky appeared above. We had to get out. The door wouldn\u2019t open. The boys pounded on the sides of the closet, punching out a hole. I peered through the opening in the closet wall.<\/p>\n It was hard to get my bearings. It looked like a war zone. Could the tornado have carried us into someone else\u2019s yard? I crawled through the hole and stepped over the inside wall of a house, then scrambled across a huge slab of siding. Part of a roof lay nearby. Where was my house? I took a few steps backward. Then it hit me. I was standing where my living room used to be. My house was gone! The bathroom closet was the only thing left standing. A flood of panic rushed over me. The kids! I started counting. Five\u2026six\u2026seven. They were all there! Safe! I threw my arms around them. We held each other in a massive bear hug. I didn\u2019t want to let go of them.<\/p>\n I looked around the neighborhood. A house diagonal to mine was gone. Next door the roof was missing. Only half of my other neighbor\u2019s house was standing. Then I knew once and for all, as certainly as I knew anything amidst this massive devastation, God had been there with us. That he was still with us. He must have had his arms wrapped tight around that closet! I led everyone to the house across the street. The neighbors weren\u2019t home, but the tornado had torn the door off the garage. We went in to collect ourselves, glad to be somewhere with a roof.<\/p>\n The boys tried calling their parents on their cell phones, trying repeatedly before an occasional signal got through. The same scene played out over and over. \u201cMom, I\u2019m telling the truth,\u201d they\u2019d say. \u201cWe were in a closet. Yes, a closet. It\u2019s still there. But everything else is gone. Yes, Mom. I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n Cars couldn\u2019t get in our neighborhood. We walked to the closest boy\u2019s house. Everywhere there was destruction, but I had this sense of wonder. We were alive and safe. All of us. Like a shield had been around us. The boy\u2019s mom held him. Then she and I hugged. \u201cYou saved his life,\u201d she kept saying.<\/p>\n \u201cNot me,\u201d I said. \u201cGod.\u201d<\/p>\n With each reunion we hugged, cried, recounted every detail from the storm. \u201cWe have some clothes and furniture you can have,\u201d one couple said. \u201cYou need to come over for dinner,\u201d another said.<\/p>\n I spent the night at my sister\u2019s. James stayed with one of the boys. Leslee stayed with her friend. The next day all of the boys\u2019 families gathered at the ruins of my house. Anything that had ever mattered to me was gone. It was heartbreaking. But it was a pain I wasn\u2019t facing alone. Nearly 20 people sorted through the rubble with me, doing whatever they could.<\/p>\n In the weeks that followed, my newfound friends welcomed me into their lives. Through them I met even more people. I lost everything I owned, yet I\u2019d gained something none of life\u2019s storms could take away: a community of friends and the absolute assurance that even in our darkest hour we\u2019re never alone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I put my feet up on the living room couch and switched on the TV. It felt nice to relax\u2014if only for a moment. Good Friday. A day off from my college classes. The kids\u2014James, 14, and Leslee, 10\u2014didn\u2019t have school either. It seemed like forever since I didn\u2019t have something pressing to worry about, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":26220,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ep_exclude_from_search":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[150],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[2173],"class_list":["post-15036","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-gods-grace"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n