There are some times in your life when you are forced to take an account of things, look at your attitudes full in the face and be real.  These times are often not very fun.

Take now, for example.  I am sitting in a dark closet under the stairs in my house following the tornado warning just issued by the local TV station.  (You may ask yourself, why, pray tell, is Lee blogging when he is under a tornado wx1_lg.jpgwarning?  That is a good question, and one that I can't answer right now.  It just seems right. Also, I have no radio, my flashlight doesn't work, and I have nothing better to do.)  I thought it was going to pass me, but they mentioned a street that is close to mine, and the weather guys (all three of them, so you know it is a big storm) freaked out when they almost got hit by lightning.  So I grabbed what is important and ran to the closet under the stairs. (I should mention at this point that Ashley and Jaycie are in Louisiana, so they are safe).

That leads to the point of my story.  What is important?  When I look around to grab the things that I just couldn't bear to lose, what was I going to get?  My computer obviously made the cut.  Part of that is because it is the church's, and because it has a lot of stuff that is irreplacable (pictures, video, etc.).  Next was the video camera – same thing.  (Oops, sorry Ash, I forgot the wedding photos and every piece of paper that Jaycie drew on since Kindergarten.)  Then my shoes and a glass of water – it wouldn't do to be homeless and thirsty.  But I digress.

Being in the closet I have to mentally prepare myself for the possibility that I could lose it all. When I have a couple of minutes to grab what I can carry, I have to make some quick decisions about what I am willing to lose, what I can do without.  It causes me to realize that, while I love my house and the stuff in it, I know that it is temporary and can be replaced.  The things that are the most precious to me are my family and the memories that I have.  

While I am reflecting, there was something said at church tonight that made me think.  Bill was talking about how you can love someone you have never seen.  I immediately thought of Hannah.  I haven't seen a picture of her or learned anything about her, but I have faith that she is there and that I will see her someday.  I don't know when and I have no control over the process, but I look forward to the day that I will hold her in my arms for the first time.  I know that when I do that, all of the waiting and all of the uncertainty will melt away.  It is impossible to describe, but it grows stronger every day.  It is hard to imagine how much love we will experience when we actually get to be with her.  

Okay, the danger is over, I am out of the closet, literally, and everything is still here.  I guess I'll have to get a better flashlight tomorrow…and a radio.