And There Was Sheer Relief When the Internet Went Down

I woke up this morning to a lovely email from a faraway blogging friend ...

Good morning, Linda. I just wanted to check to see if your area has been part of the devastating storms that have hit the northeast this week. Praying you have power and are safe and warm and that others will be safe also.

Thank you to those who reached out during the recent storm.  We are safe and well. 

Heading off to bed in a house that was only 49 degrees was a bit of a bummer, but the ever present flannel in the form of sheets and nightgown, multiple layers of quilts, long underwear, wool knee socks, and fuzzy slippers kept me toasty.  A pomegranate scented candle burned nearby and one of those little clamp-on lights shone dimly so I could read myself to sleep while my husband snored quietly, burrowed and still.

And I realized how blessed I was to be warm and safe when so many are experiencing the opposite.  At times like this I wonder why me, why all this grace has been extended my way.

It was a busy long weekend with celebrations, travel, child care, and storm-angst.  But even though the winds blew hard, the trees that fell did their business in the woods and spared our house.  And we weren't even home during the height of the storm and power outage.

But the biggest surprise was the sheer relief I felt when my husband informed me early yesterday morning that the internet was down.  I sighed deep with peace and smiled.  No weird self-imposed obligation to blog, to run around online, to tend to the emails stacking up dozens deep.  I felt free as a bird.

Instead of being held hostage to the laptop, I finished up the book of Judges and then put on a pot of beef veggie soup, rolled up my sleeves and did some heavy duty spring cleaning, ran the washer and the dryer ragged, puttered here and there.  Everything is now fresh and clean and uncluttered.  I couldn't be happier.

So here's hoping that you are well and safe from whatever storms are surrounding you, whether they be literal ... or those emotional ones that would wreck havoc with your soul.

I'm finding God to be faithful right in the midst of both. 

Even when it was 49 degrees and I was buried alive under the weight of all the bed covers stacked high while the wind whistled loud and the windows shook with the sheer drama of it all.




photos are from the aftermath of the 
last storm that swept on through