My Love is a Fire

I am a moody person. No, really, it's true. Back "in the day" I saw my moodiness as a really cool gateway into the world of everything artistic. I tried to channel all of those youthful feelings of angst into radical enlightenment. That's right, dude, life was way groovy. I could sit in my bed room for days and listen to the same Dead Cd over and over again and feel hypnotized and euphoric. It was a drugless high and I was an addict.


I really do miss those moments of being completely lost in the moment; being able to get so enraptured by something that the rest of the world ceases to exist for a little while. Recognizing how much I sound like a whacked out drug addict at this moment, I digress.

On occasion I still can get in a music fog like I once did, but never anywhere near as heady. It's hard to really have music envelop your heart and soul when at the same time you have someone in one direction yelling to have his bottom wiped while in the other direction a wrestling match over the remote control is underway. All the while the phone is ringing.
"Come here, Uncle John's Band..." yeh, it's good but let's face it- it's not the same.

I'm okay with not be a transcendental hippie anymore. Really, I am. I know there comes a time when actually "dealing" with problems, opposed to brooding over them is a more appropriate response. I can reach truth without hours of monotonous stereo play. It comes in different ways now. But, I still miss those days of endless heartfelt deliberations.

A little over a year ago Tucker and Jim built a fire pit in the backyard. You see, Janet is an absolute fire genius and my kids and I always marvel at how she can make flames come from just about nothing. In fact, I believe I once overheard one of my children telling a friend, "My Aunt Janet breathes fire." Anyway, it was a spur of the moment decision one day, that the men would take some extra brick we had lying around and try and dig out a little pit. That night we had an outdoor fire. It was spectacular!

Over the course of the past year we have used that pit more than I think anyone expected. When we have something to celebrate- let's drink beer around the fire, company in town- we should have a fire, day off from school- let's roast marshmallows by the fire...and so it goes.

I have come to realize that that impromptu fire pit has become an outlet for me much in the same way that music was all those years ago. I tenderly build a strong base in which to begin the fire, I nurture the flames by adding wood or straw, I blow from underneath the flames to keep the oxygen circulating, and I get extremely defensive and protective when anyone steps up to "really get it going." And let me tell you- Everyone seems to think they are experts in fire building. Everyone. Usually I quietly take a backseat until they reduce my fire to a pile of smoldering logs, and then I gladly reclaim my position as fire monitor.

I can sit by the fire for hours. And I mean hours. I could do nothing all day, but tend to the fire and watch as the flames dance in the air. I inhale deeply as I breathe in the smokey outside air, convinced that somehow I am breathing in rejuvenating magic. And I sit, and I sit, and I sit. If there is someone out there for me to talk to, I will. And usually the conversations are honest and open and important, as if that is all that can exist around my sacred place. If I am alone, then I am happy alone; out there just me and the fire.

I can't believe of all things in my life that would bring me to a place of peace and reflection that makeshift pit in the yard would be the one. But it has.
And I am so very thankful.

The kids have been back in school for a month now and tomorrow is Labor Day. Although the official end to summer is still a couple of weeks away, the summer "as we know it" has come to an end.
Due to the recession's unwelcome presence in our life, this is the first summer in a long time where we vacationed solely at home. Both Tucker and I commented on how much we enjoyed ourselves despite the lack of out of town plans and our busy work schedules. We really made an effort to hang out a lot as a family at the pool and in the yard with the occasional weenie/marshmallow roast. We learned this summer, that vacationing is not about packing a suitcase and traveling by car or plane. We were able to channel that vacationing spirit at home with each other, being silly and cheering each other on.

Midtown Classic

Wynnton has been holding a 5k every year for the past several years. The proceeds of the race go to support the neighborhood surrounding the church. Every year the turn out is huge and draws racers from all over the Columbus/Phenix City area. It is a huge deal at the church.
In an attempt to grow closer with my new church family, I decided I would volunteer to help out, and Tucker jumped right on board with me.
Early this morning, Tucker and I got up and drove to the church to help with setting up and registration. My job was to be a "course marshall." I was to make sure our runners were running in the right direction and cheer them on as they passed. After a quick meeting at the church I headed down to Lakebottom Park where I was to be stationed. Of course, we did not not have the best of weather; thunder storms! But the race was still on- rain or shine!
I really had a good time standing there on my corner. (Never want to have to say THAT again!) I was amazed as the first runners made their way past me. They had such force and determination. It was breathtaking to see the capabilities of these people. Within a few minutes the bulk of the crowd came through. All different types of people were participating. It was really encouraging to see that it wasn't just for the "super fit." I was most impressed with the mommies who were running with their babies in strollers. They are the winners in my book!
When my duties at the park were over, I headed back to Wynnton. Pulling into the parking lot across the street, I could hear the fabulous people of my church cheering on the runners. What a great feeling it was to be part of that group! Even more gratifying, was seeing Tucker right there with them. It is so nice that he feels as at home there as I do.
Following the race, the sponsors had tables of food and our Praise Band was playing. It was just a great time all around; and to think- we were actually raising money at the same time!
My favorite part of the race was when I noticed the sign at the finish line. Although I can't remember the exact wording it said something to the affect of, "Wynnton UMC- Race with us today, pray with us tomorrow." How great is that?! I am sure that after the hospitality that was shown today, we will have more than a few visitors tomorrow! Praise God!

Talkin' Dirty

God sure got me good. He gave me two shiny, sweet smelling baby girls first. They wore beautiful dresses to school and ALWAYS had coordinating hair bows. I reveled in giving them teensie weensie manicures on their itty bitty hands. Life was peaches and cream.
I was excited about having Charlie; up for the challenge. I heard all of the cliches that compare boys to girls. I was not going to buy into those horrid stereotypes. I was, after all, Supermom.
At a really early age, (I'm talkin' fresh outta the hospital, people) I was amazed how sweaty Charlie's little feet were; sweaty AND stinky! My newborn son had smelly feet! Surely not, but oh, yes. Over, the next weeks I was amazed how much dirt would accumulate in his tiny fists and between his toes. I bathed this kid on a regular basis, and it wasn't like he was running any marathons. Dirty, dirty, dirty.
To really drive home the joke, God bestowed upon us a second little stinker. We hadn't seen anything yet! Patch, or Patchy-Poo, as he is commonly referred to, has been the end all be all of dirty, little boys. Picture this Rockwellesque painting: adoring family sitting, gazing at the newborn longingly when suddenly out of nowhere emanates a strong sulfuric odor slowly filling the room. One by one, family members tuck their noses in their shirts and exchange their loving glances to ones of horror. How could that smell come from such a tiny person!!!??? Patch's "teachers" at school quickly realized the ONLY way to feed him without ruining his clothes, was to strip him down to his diaper; even then, somehow he managed to soil clothes that were 10 feet away.
Boys are just like that, I am learning. They thrive in filth and stinkiness. I would love to say my husband is different, but the truth is that he is "just one of the boys." No matter how many toys, books or games they may have, at the end of the day nothing beats a puddle of water or a pile of leaves. The more "one with the filth" they can be the better. A truly successful day is one where they are able to turn their bath water several shades darker.
Despite the seemingly magnetic reaction boys(and men) have to all things gross, we members of grime-opposed gender still love them. Perhaps because of their "condition" we love them more because it gives us something to work on with them. There is a definite sense of accomplishment when you pluck one of these playful ogres out of the swamp and turn them into Prince Charming- even if only for a few hours!

Top Ironies of the Week

1. We are actually way FURTHER behind on things that have to be done after being off work for a week.

2. I am looking forward to returning to work so that I can rest a little.

3. My dogs are currently the healthiest members of the household.

4. The two children I took to the doctor this morning, are now sicker than they were when they were seen.

5. Every year around tax refund time, something catastrophic falls into disrepair around the house. This year the air conditioner died before the ink dried on our balance statement. I'm wondering if this is what is referred to as a "Government Stimulus Package." I have been secretly looking out the window for little men in dark coats and black sunglasses trying to damage my property.

6. My husband, who rejected youth in favor of acting "wise beyond his years," has now decided to grow his curly hair out so he will more closely resemble his two year old son.

7. My daughter received some misguided information that Tina Fey was actually a political factor in the past Presidential election. As I explained to her Tina's real role, I felt an odd sense of pride that perhaps her spoofs did turn things in Obama's favor.

8. In a news story on the Today Show this morning, it was revealed that people who get enough rest are less likely to gain superfluous weight. Dude, I could be killing two birds with one stone. Sign me up.

9. The fact that all the kids have been sick is actually affording Tucker and I more face time with one another.- No Soccer!

10. Despite all the germs, fevers, lack of money, superfluous poundage and all of the political tensions existing in the world, (read:Don't defriend me and I won't defriend you) I am so very thankful for my life and am pretty happy with the way things are.

Joke's on Me!

I love to whine and complain. Well, not really, I just seem to do it a lot, so here I go.
I feel like I NEVER see my husband between our myriad of extra jobs and various extra curriculars for the kids. We are constantly busy and are often two ships who pass in the night only to make sure that we are indeed coming home at night. In moments of clarity I tell myself that this is the life we have chosen to provide the best we can for the family while not ultimately selling out ourselves and our dreams. There is something almost romantic about working your tail off to join forces and raise a family with the guy you met when you were 18 years old. That being said, the more realistic and bitter Caroline, the one who usually dominates, is just really irritated that we work twice as hard for half as much, but whatever....
Tuck and I have been so looking forward to this week off; talk about visions of grandeur. We were going to sleep in and work on the house and have awesome quality family time. We were determined to not feel as though our precious time off was squandered.
God has such a sense of humor!
Immediately after Spring Break began kids began getting sick everywhere. Every time I turned around a coughy, sneezy offspring turned up with a fever. Easter morning brunch consisted of everyone slouching in the booth at the restaurant and our entire meal being boxed in to go containers. Later that afternoon, Tuck took the "least ill" of the kids to his dad's house for the festivities. As I sat in my house that afternoon, I began to wonder if I too was getting sick. "Boy, I'm starting to feel really hot. I'm like Waaay hot! What is the deal?" Yes, friends, that's right the air conditioner decided to die at that very moment. Sigh.
Two days and two thousand dollars later we once again have cold air.

So, the best made plans are not written in stone. Sometimes good intentions remain intentions only. The reason we work twice as hard is so that when emergencies arrive, we will only be half as much behind.

I'm sure glad God has such a sense of humor, it makes me feel like maybe mine won't get me in as much trouble!

Emily in Epworth

Emily went on a three day trip with her confirmation class to Epworth by the Sea (St. Simons Island) this weekend. She came home last night and other than being exhausted, I could tell she was very much touched by what she experienced.
When I decided to join the Methodist church, Tucker and I spent a long time discussing how we should proceed as a family. He is still very happy with Catholicism and together, we had to decide where our children's home church would be. After much discussion, we came to the mutual conclusion that right now the Methodist church where I attend has better programming for the kids than the Catholic church does. Emily, who had not had positive religious education experiences in the past was very wary to be put into a whole new situation. I prayed that she would find a welcoming and loving place where she could learn about Jesus as I had.
As it turns out, the Youth Pastor, and consequently Emily's Sunday School teacher is an old high school buddy of Tucker's. That was just another sign to us that she would be taken care of. In the past months, Emily has opened up a lot about what she has learned about Jesus and being a better Christian. She has developed a strong admiration for her Youth Pastor as well as her fellow confirmands. This whole experience for her has been nothing but completely positive.
I knew she was in good hands when she left on Friday, but I was still nervous to let her go. She called me each night that she was gone and I could tell she was having a great time. Last night when she got home, she showed me the zillion of pictures she took and talked non stop for about three hours until she finally completely crashed. Other than the typical silly 12 year old antics that were inevitable to happen, she really grew closer to the Lord. I am so proud of her and so thankful she had this opportunity.
One of the hardest things about being a mom is that you never get a report card. We never have those quarterly evaluations where we get called into some big office where we are told how we are doing in our jobs as mothers. Sometimes the only thing we can do is pray that we are making the right decisions as far as are kids are concerned. Listening to Em talk about how her heart had grown in Christ this weekend felt tantamount to a big thumbs up from the Boss. It is so nice to have this confirmation (with no pun intended) that we made the right choice for her.

Happy New Year!!

After an wonderful Christmas break, (the best I can ever remember, actually)Tucker and I were looking forward to celebrating New Year's Eve with the kids in our traditional Hearn way.-- snacks and tv until the "moment of truth," then kisses for everyone and bed.
Last night, the mere thought of the kids being able to stay up until midnight gave them more than excitement than they could handle. Being able to eat snacks in the play room really pushed them into high gear!! While Tucker and I enjoyed 30 Rock reruns in the den, our 4 babies alternated between watching Teen Disney and playing in the playroom. At one point, my darling husband suggested we all play a board game together. Everyone readily agreed, but the game was short lived as every one's excitement and distraction got the better of them. (Secretly, I was a little overjoyed when the kids decided they'd rather go back and hang out in the playroom, and I got Tucker all to myself again!!) Poor, little Patch made it until about 10 before his baby timer was up. He wanted so much to stay up like the big kids, but he just couldn't make it and was just miserable trying. When I was carrying him back to his bed, he kept trying to demand that "Bubby" (aka Charlie) was a baby too, and thus needed to go to bed as well. Thankfully his new Spider Man sheets were on his bed, and he snuggled right in when he saw them.
As always, Tucker and I held each other as Dick Clark counted down to the New Year and kissed each other on the first moment of the New Year. We then went into the playroom and kissed the babies who remained awake, all of whom looked more than ready to go to bed themselves!!
Getting ready for bed, I was overwhelmed with all of the possibilities that await my family and I in the New Year. I can't begin to imagine what God has in store for us, but I know it is magnificent, as everything that He ever has a hand is! So, although I do not believe in New Year's Resolutions per se, (I think one should ALWAYS be willing to resolve to make their lives better no matter what time of year) I do pray that I am able to see the Lord in more of the details of my every day life and that I can share Him with others. I know that 2010, as every other year has been, is going to be a tremendous gift filled with unexpected blessings.

My Sweet Tucker

I met Tucker another lifetime ago. Neither of us much resemble the people we were back then. If you could have searched the campus for two people who had the least amount in common, chances are you would have picked us. But, like some crazy magnetic force, we kept ending up together over and over again.
I was a party girl in those days. He was an overly serious 60 year old man trapped in a teenager's body. We both needed someone, and we were there for each other. I was convinced he was going to be my best friend for life but never anything more. He knew we would spend the rest of our lives together. I was in a serious accident the summer after we met, and from then on, I knew he was right. We belonged together. And from then on we have been; always together.
Tucker and I grew up together. We were mere babes when we married and neither one of us knew a thing. We had nothing, but we had each other. (and when there is nothing else, that is an awful lot)
I wish I can say the past 13 years have been one blessing after another, but that wouldn't be true. There has been a tremendous amount of heartache and regret. There were times when my words and actions devastated the man I love, and times when he acted like a stranger to me. Those moments were so very hard. Where do you go from there? As hard as those hurdles were they were so very necessary. One of the lessons of our Fireproof class was that the deeper one's marriage falls, the higher the possibility for it to be redeemed. I believe this is true with all of my heart. Had our struggles not been as fierce as they were, I'm sure our reward would never has been so wonderful.
Today I feel like Tucker has always been a part of me. We can flash each other a look and instantly know what the other is saying. There is a commonality we share between us, that could never be duplicated by anyone else. I spent the afternoon with him today, and I felt just like I did when I was 18 years old and holding his hand for the very first time. "Look at this wonderful guy I am with! Aren't I the luckiest girl in the world!" And he still makes me feel like that cute, little 18 year old!
God is not promising us easy marriages. He doesn't say that as long as you remain the same 2 people you were when you got married then all will be fine. You can not possibly grow without changing. The person you were the day you got married had not been subjected to the life experiences that came following your wedding day. People change. Those changes can be hard and so scary. You have to love your marriage and your God enough to love your spouse even when it feels impossible.
The many metamorphoses that Tucker and I have gone through in our marriage have not been easy in the least but with all my heart I thank the Lord that we went through them; that we loved God enough not to bail when it felt like the thing to do. I am so thankful for the husband I have, who I love more every moment of every day, all the while knowing that tough roads still await. I pray that God continues to bless us with His strength so that we can see each other through whatever comes our way.

Staying Put

We bought our current home four years ago. It was the third house we had bought as a married couple, and we were determined for it to be our last. No one likes to move, but I am convinced no one detests it quite as much as my dear husband. I tease him that if he had his way we would still be living in the 950 square foot apartment where we lived at the start of our marriage.
We bought this house out of necessity. Our previous house, though adorable, was small, and the kids (3 of them at the time) seemed to be requiring more space. Tucker was especially hesitant to leave our prior house, because we had bought it from his grandfather who had lived there for over 40 years. So, I played the part of the mean, 'ol wife forcing him to move under duress.
We found this home in the north part of Columbus. It was huge by our standards. (about 3500 square feet) Enough bedrooms, bathrooms, a large playroom- it was hard to pass up. But since, nothing is seamless for us Hearns, there was a catch. The inside hadn't been updated since the 1970s. At all. It was hard to look past the mountains of work that would lay ahead, especially for Tucker who would be doing the lion's share. It really became a tug-of-war. In the end, he relented, although quite unhappily at first, and we bought the house.
The first two years were busy. We scraped wallpaper and painted. We replaced almost the entire house's flooring. A light fixture here, a kitchen appliance there, but slowly and surely the diamond was emerging from the rough.
I intend to stay in this house for the rest of my life, God willing. I can see growing old here with Tucker, and sitting on the front porch rocking in our chairs and shaking sticks at the neighborhood hooligans. It is that kind of house; the kind of house no one would want to leave. It is truly a home.
Early next week we are having the kitchen ripped out and completely replaced. We always said that we were going to do this one day, but I don't think either of us really believed we would. Even as we begun the process of talking with the contractor, I was sure that somehow we would weasel our way out. I am going to love my new kitchen. I designed it exactly the way I wanted. I am thrilled to pieces that we were able to do this. Although the perks of a brand-spankin' new kitchen excites me, I am even more excited for what this upgrade really means for our lives. It means we are steadfast. We are here to stay and to start spreading our roots. Hopefully it means that the moves are over and we have found our home base. The time, effort and financial commitment would never have been spent on a home we were just passing through. We are here to stay. Just as we take care of our children to make sure they grow up to be strong and healthy adults, so must we take care of our home so that it will always be able to fulfill our needs. This prospect is so comforting to me. I am settled. I am where I will stay.

12 Years and Counting

Today Tucker and I celebrate 12 years of marriage. I can't believe it has already been 12 years, and I can't believe it has only been 12 years.
When I was growing up I dated a lot. I'm sure to the outside world it seemed like I needed the attention of a boy to make me happy, but I think I really just craved companionship. Who doesn't? For the most part, the boys I dated in high school and college were really nice people who I have remained friends with. I was lucky. I had really good experiences as a young girl dipping her feet in the dating pool. I guess with that in mind, marrying at 20 doesn't seem so far-fetched!
I met Tucker when I was 18. I had just started going to the Abbey and had just broken up with a boy I had dated the prior year. Tucker was like no one I had ever met. He seemed like an old soul. I always got the feeling that he had a secret about the world that no one else knew. This attracted me and frightened me at the same time.
We had tried our hand at dating early on. It didn't work. I was still very much in that crazy, "Let's have fun" mindset. He was so very reserved. I dated other people from time to time, but he was always there in the background. Constant. He just was always there, waiting for me to need him. Need him I did. Time and time and time again. No matter where I had been or what I had gotten myself into, he was there.
After my first year in college I was in a devastating car accident. Everyone survived, but the ordeal was so traumatic. As I lay in the hospital alone and scared, all I could think of was Tucker, my friend. I needed him. When I was finally flown home, I called him immediately. Within days, he had left his home in Georgia and drove to me in North Carolina to be by my side.
As we sat and talked I fell in love, a love that I had never felt for anyone before. It was a calm love, a peaceful love, a safe love. I was hesitant to share this realization with him, but eventually I did. Over the next few months our friendship turned into a romance, and we were engaged less than 4 months later. People ask how long we dated before we got engaged, and we always tell them we never really did. We just went from friendship to marriage in one fell swoop.
So when I say I married my best friend, I really mean it. Before anything, there was friendship and throughout all of the trials of 12 years of marriage, there has always been friendship.
So I guess I am still that same girl who wants companionship. The only difference now is that I have it. I am now and will forever be linked with the man who knows me better than I know myself, and loves me anyway.

Fate vs. Faith

My husband is really fond of saying, "Life can only ever have happened the way it happened."

We got married at 20 and 21 years of age. Young and stupid. We were from different areas, had different interests, and neither of us truly had a clue about what life was about. We became trusted friends, became pregnant and then married. Not exactly the preferable sequence of events, but again, we were really too young to realize how scary a situation we had found ourselves in.
We had our first child, Emily, and neither of us had graduated college. Tucker worked days as a technical writer and nights finishing his triple degrees. Emily and I had fun. As I watched her grow, she forced me to do the same.
Without knowing it, Tucker and I were growing up together; making the same mistakes that all 20 somethings make, but doing it married with a child. It must have been fate. Or was it?
When I became pregnant with our second child, I was given a 50% chance of miscarriage due to complications. I was put on bed rest and lived in fear that I would sneeze and lose my baby. Elizabeth was very sick as an infant and required almost constant holding, but my baby had made it! It must have been fate!
And the years went on. We grew together and grew apart at least a million times. We decided to move to Georgia about 5 years into our marriage for a "change of pace." We handled our move much as we had handled the rest of our lives. With eyes shut, jumping head first! Tucker got a great job, I got settled with the girls, and we began a new chapter. It must have been fate.
Our first son was born in 2004. He was the first child I breastfed any longer than 2 weeks. I spent many hours holding, feeding and gazing down at my newborn son. During our marathon feedings, I could tell he could not see me. Charlie was completely blind. When he was 8 weeks old he was diagnosed with Delayed Visual Maturation, a condition in which the baby's vision did not develop as it was suppose to in utero, but would continue to improve outside the womb. After almost twice monthly trips to the doctor, when he was 6 months old his vision test was normal. It must have been fate.
I have at least a thousand of theses stories. Stories where Tucker and I think about how our lives would be different if...What if he never came to college in North Carolina, What if we hadn't gotten pregnant so young, What if we didn't somehow make our meager earnings work... What if, what if, what if?

Life can ONLY ever happen the way it happened.

It's fate.

Or, is it faith?

Before I was born, God knew I would meet Tucker. He knew we would get pregnant and be married too young. He knew the struggles we would have with each other and the struggles we would have with our children. He knew everything.
This is not to say, it was fate that made these things happen. I made my choices through free will, as everyone does. But there is only one way life can happen, and that is the way that it happens. God has a watchful eye over everything we do, and He makes sure we have the tools to handle the outcomes. No matter what mistakes we make in our lives, we are never left alone to sort them out ourselves.
I have faith that my life is in the hands of God. I have faith that when I completely run things a muck, my Lord will be there to help bail me out as He has done countless times before. I have faith that God holds all of the answers to all of the questions, and all I have to do is seek Him, and I will know the answers, too.
There is no fate. There is only faith. Faith in God to see us through.

Weathering the Storm

What a morning! Our dear sweet Grandma/Mother/all around amazing person, Elaine, gave us tickets to her Exchange Club's annual Pancake Jamboree. This was to be an exceptionally fun treat because Elizabeth had a friend spend the night, so we would have 5 kids with us instead of our regular 4!! We go every year, and every year cars are lined up for blocks up and down the street around the Fraternal Order of Police building where it is held. As we loaded all 5 children in the car, we noticed the sky looked a bit threatening, though it had not begun to rain. As soon as we backed out of the driveway, the rain begun coming down. By the time we were half way there, it was starting to come down steadily. I told Tucker that I'm sure the rain will have scared many people away, and we would be able to find parking right up front near the building. Well, I was wrong. We turned the corner to see cars lined up and down the road as usual. I, in my infinite wisdom, found a spot between two trucks on the side of the road and chided Tucker to parallel park in between. (By this time, the rain was teaming) My ever-obedient hubby, unfortunately listened. Before he could straighten the wheels of the van full of children, we were stuck in inches of mud! I was convinced for some reason, that I would be able to "unstick" us. So, I got out, in the pouring rain, to go to the driver's side. My adorable, little red and white ballet flats instantly sunk in 3 inches of mud! Oops! At this point the kids were already complaining about the smell of "burning rubber" and being scared of the now loud claps of thunder and lightning. My poor husband--that is just what he gets for following my brilliant idea! At this point I began to panic just a bit. (As did Tucker, if he would ever really admit it!)
But then, the Holy Spirit came into our hearts and instantly calmed us. It was then I remembered, God was in control of this situation, not me, not Tucker. God would find a way. He always does.
I left Tucker in the car, with the 5 kids, and I ran down to the building to find Elaine. She immediately gave me her coat, (I was now completely soaked) and had her Exchange Club buddies on the case to help us. One man went to get his truck to pull Tucker out, one man was directing traffic away from our stuck van, and a sweet woman, traversed up the road with me to bring extra umbrellas and help me get the kids inside. Once inside, Elaine took the kids and made sure they had their food and drinks (all while holding Patchy) and the nice umbrella lady was drying their hair off with towels. Soon Tucker had become unstuck, and his breakfast and coffee was brought right to him. We sat down and laughed at how crazy all of this was. As Elaine was feeding Patch his mound of pancakes, another Exchange Club member, came to her and told her that there was a tornado watch! We just hunkered down a little longer until we could safely get the kids in the car and home.
What an adventure!
Tucker, as if he had read my mind, commented about how we would have handled the whole situation so differently not that long ago. Instead of trusting in the Lord to see us through, we would have stressed out, and yelled at each other, and probably ended up scaring the kids. It's amazing to me, that when you open your heart just a little to God's light, how He shines so very brightly and guides you. It is such a comfort to know that I am not in charge.