A Picture of Grace

Oliver, Charlie and I went to a friend's house today, a couple of hours before the storms hit.  I am blessed to have four close friends that I have known since middle school, and our paths have led us to live in the same state now in our adult years.  We get together monthly, and usually without kids.  But today two of us didn't have child care, and so we made our gathering into a "family included" event.  In this house tonight were seven adults, one 18-month old, three 2-year-olds, a four-year-old, and first grader and a third grader.  There was also a large amount of food and noise.

We knew that storms were on the radar, and when the winds picked up and rain began to blow sideways, we shut the shades of the picture window so that the kids wouldn't get worried.  The adults, however, couldn't resist sneaking a peak, and as our hostess pushed the shades to the side, she said, "um, Kirsten, you are VERY lucky."  I joined her at her side to see this:

 

My car is the one of the left, our friend's car is on the right. 

But not long after we ogled the scene, there was some talk about "the other tree," and suddenly the two husbands that were present ran out the door into the storm without jackets.  What they saw was this.

The reason they ran was that they saw lights underneath this tree.  They grabbed chainsaws to remove branches and rescued a father and son from the car that was trapped underneath; they were completely fine, walked away without a single injury.  Their car was still buried by the time I left the house (the car is actually underneath the tree in that picture).

The TV went off, the lights flickered, and then we were in darkness with the seven children.  We herded them to the basement and tried to keep them calm with a flashlight, and iPad, and several renditions of preschool songs. 

When the weather passed, neighbors from every direction crept out of their houses to gawk at the damage.  Our cars became famous, with the massive tree falling precisely between them to avoid contact with either bumper.  People were taking pictures like crazy.  My friend announced to her neighbors, "that's my friend's car, she's a pastor's daughter," as if my familial connection to clergy spared me from major damage to my car.

But it really is the picture of grace, isn't it?  That tree couldn't have fallen any more perfectly to avoid our cars.  In the midst of a violent and chaotic storm, a perfect calculation of divine intervention takes place.

I watched as neighbors helped saw and cut the branches away so my friend could enter her car door, and others several feet away attempting to unearth the more unfortunate car.  The damage we saw tonight was nowhere near what others in the Midwest have been experiencing, but we got a small taste of what it is to see community coming together, and it was, well, kind of profound.  Strangers helping to clean up and put back together what isn't even theirs.  They didn't just take pictures and walk away.  And the husbands of my friends?  What they did was nothing short of heroic, but it was just second nature to them.  It's the core goodness of who they are. 

It was a spooky night that rattled me, but I was so glad to be with the ones I love.  Grace. Goodness. I have so much to be thankful for.  The storm is over, and all is well.