Homeschoolin' my Mighty Men of God: Hurdles to Relay Race

Hurricane Irene was predicted to devastate, demolish and destroy communities across North Carolina. For the past week, we have been inundated with how destructive this storm was going to be. Having lived in Florida for 3 years, I knew what I needed to do. My husband would have had the checklist out and we would have read it off like a predeployment military supply list. I knew we needed lots of drinking water and canned goods, in case we lost power and water. Those were the "gimmes" on the list. Then I made sure we had our electronics powered up, tubs filled with water for boiling, bathing or flushing, and the household chores were completed so I could just sit and wait out the storm.

Now, we're inland enough that I knew we wouldn't have the full force of the eye of the hurricane. So, when friends would call, text or Facebook me with messages about how we were doing and how prepared we were, I assured them over and over again that we would be fine and were as ready as we'll ever be. I truly believed that we were. I had gone over my checklist. I even turned the refrigerator and air conditioner to a lower temperature so that if we lost power, we wouldn't lose our food or cool air as quickly. I was ready to have Little Man come and snuggle with me because of his dislike of all things storm-related. This storm may have consumed the media for the past week, but it wasn't going to consume our family. We were ready.

Until my front tree toppled over. That wasn't on my checklist. I didn't have any more power to secure the outside botanical life to the ground than I had control over the direction that Irene decided to take. So, after watching the storm from the comfort of my bed and feeling pretty confident that we were through the worst of it, I headed out to our kitchen to grab some breakfast. Since I had not touched my cell phone (not hubby's iPhone, but my other, non-smart phone), I grabbed it and saw I had a text. My neighbor was checking up on me to see how we were doing and if I knew my front tree had fallen over. I opened up the front blinds and was shocked to see this 20 ft. tree lying on the ground. Praise God it fell away from the house, as the only thing it killed were the weeds that are grass impersonators. All I could do was think, "I need to take pictures and post them on Facebook so my husband can see this!" Right as I was snapping a few pictures, my neighbor next door walks by with a hand saw, ready to tackle this project. He thought we were out of town and was going to get started with the clean up for us. This is where my perception of Irene takes a huge turn.

Neighbor after neighbor came out and a spontaneous block party formed in our front yard. One neighbor brought his chain saw and oldest son. My other neighbor, who helped fix our riding mower, came over, as well as our neighbor who is a doctor. Two pick up trucks, 4 adults, 6 children, hand saws, chain saw, gloves and good old-fashioned elbow grease all aided in our tree-removal. What I thought would be a small, slow-moving process, which would include me having to call the rental office 2-3 times over the next week to get that tree removed, turned out to be a lightning-speed recovery that took less than 3 hours.

What started out as a path of destruction ended up bringing a community together. Being in a season where I'm a single parent, I saw that tree as an obstacle in my marathon race. I wasn't afraid when I saw it fall. It could have fallen the other way and possibly destroyed part of our home. So, I knew that God's hand was in how that tree fell towards the street. What I saw was a community that embraced helping one another in a time of need. What Satan set out to steal, kill and destroy, God intended for good. That tree became a catalyst for the men of our community to come out and help another man's family when he couldn't do the work himself. I love seeing how that obstacle became a baton. Instead of having to hurdle over the challenge individually, I find that we're now in a place where the baton was handed from one neighbor to another. It isn't a solitary race; it's a relay. We are all in this together.