The scene a couple of blocks from our kids' house this morning after the tornado came calling.

we’re a human race in need of grace!  This Christmas Eve scene  from my son’s neighborhood just north of Crowley, Louisiana, suggests Mother Nature isn’t concerned with our holiday traditions.  The scene truly is grim, and as a parent, to consider this destruction was wreaked just 3 blocks from where my kids and grandchild slept . . . what, indeed,  can I say?

Except thanks be to God and the mysterious work of grace.  The violence of the storm is utterly random–one block this way or that, sometimes from one side of the street to the next, can make such a vast difference.  One parent’s prayers answered, another’s not, or at least not answered in our way.

Our prayers were answered our way–Sarah admitted that when the TV station began issuing the warnings more quickly than we could process them, she fell in prayer and committed our children’s safety to His protection.  So  we declare “Thanks be to God”  who Dickens described in A Christmas Carol as “the Almighty Founder of Christmas.”  I’ve always liked that characterization.

I went with Zach this afternoon to set up my generator at their place to keep the refrigerator and freezer charged up–the estimate for power restoration is five to seven days, but considering the house is whole in comparison to so many unfortunate neighbors, that’s not a very bitter pill to swallow at all.  My generator needs a workout anyway.

Of course, we pray for our neighbors in the subdivision whose Christmas plans were devastated as much by the tornado as their homes.    I kind of felt guilty leaving the neighborhood earlier this afternoon to come home and begin my own preparations for a Christmas Eve that will go on normally for us.

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