ran away again

I had a lot of work to do this morning. Instead, I ditched it and went to DeLeon Springs with my friend Rachel and her Bible study group, a fantastic group of ladies collectively known as Virtue in the City. We all met at a McDonald's (not to eat) and drove through the couple of streets that were ravaged by these recent tornadoes. What a powerful statement to go and see my brother's apartment complex torn to shreds... except for his apartment, which sustained only cosmetic damage. Except for the red spray-painted "X" on the front door, it looks fairly livable: not the case for his next-door neighbors, who looked like they came out on the losing end of a fight with a wrecking ball. Here are some photos from the media:


Applewood Apartments in DeLand, where my brother lives


Applewood Apartments and a rescue worker looking for the injured


More damage


The shopping complex across the street


Remains of the trailer park next door

After seeing what damage the storm did, I am so grateful my brother was spared from any physical harm. One of the girls I was with today told us of a kid in her church youth group - her church community is only about 60 people strong - and in the tornadoes, he lost both his parents. His mom was found in the wreckage of their home, and the boy and his dad had been knocked clear across the road. He's 17, an only child, and he just buried his parents yesterday after having been in the hospital himself for surgery. We actually ran into him with family friends at the pancake place at DeLeon Springs; he was remarkably, well, OKAY, and actually had the biggest smile of anyone in the group. Here's a snippet of his story.

I have to admit that these last few weeks - the last month, really - has left me hurt, confused, even a little bitter, though hopefully not permanently so. When my mind cannot wrap around the things that hurt and how they fit into God's plan, I get so angry and resentful of Him. Jason has been understandably worried for me, and one night as he wrapped his arms around me and began to pray over me, "Dear God..." I interrupted him and said, "Just don't even bother." And though it was my childish, limited-view attempt to challenge God to come through that much more and prove me wrong, that even my unbelief cannot subdue His graciousness and limitless power, I felt immediately stricken, like I had taken a knife to the one life preserver that had been thrown my way, like I had struck at the heart of my closest friend. Indeed, I probably had, but so endless is His forgiveness, even when I am a brat. And boy, can I be a brat!

One thing I have learned over and over as a resident of this storm-stricken state is that the sun often shines brightest just after the worst has hit. And maybe we are sometimes so debilitated by our grief and sorrow that the brightest light of all is needed just to illuminate the path, to take us step by step on the journey. The sun shone brilliantly today as it has over the past few days, and so I walk, one step at a time, and maybe I can see a little more of the way tomorrow, take a few more steps.