We should've been Amish, we joke.
We lay there listening to the steady breathing of our two little refugees camped out on the floor next to our bed. Mid-dawn moments bring clarity to the previous evening's close-call.
I just keep trying to remember what kept me at work for those last two minutes. Why didn't I leave two minutes earlier? I can't for the life of me remember why.
He whispers the what-if and the almost-reality hits me hard. There had been a storm. A tornado that ripped apart 12 miles of our community in a few breathtaking moments. If he had been two minutes earlier, he could've easily been right smack in the middle of it. Probably on the remote road where it first touched down. It tore apart buildings, cars and greenhouses. It lifted treetops from their trunks and slammed them down onto the freeway. The freeway that he was exiting and that nobody was on. It tore apart dreams and years of university research. It ravaged my favorite place to walk. Yet it did not touch a single human being. And my man was spared.
The overwhelming mercy of Almighty God creates its own windstorm that marks my soul irreparably. The mercy storm touches down, leaving nothing in its path but that which is unable to be destroyed. The Rock called I AM. Mercy gives way to mercy.
Who are we, Lord, that You would spare us so? Thank You, Almighty God. We don't deserve Your mercy, Holy, Sovereign God. But we will bask in Your goodness. For You are good.
You are good, and the source of good;
train me in your goodness.
~Psalm 119:68 msg~