I started to write about this last week, but my mind kept veering off in another direction. I’ve been writing long enough now to know to go where God leads me. (Not always without a fight, I admit.) But, that means this post is not as timely as it would have been.
Two weeks ago, my husband had knee replacement surgery. The surgery had been delayed by a week because he came down with a stomach virus that just wouldn’t seem to let up. This meant he had his operation two days before a hurricane was due to hit the gulf coast of Florida.
We don’t live on the coast. We are about 60 miles inland from the gulf coast area called the “big bend,” the area where the peninsula meets the panhandle of Florida. On Tuesday morning when I picked my husband up from the hospital, the storm was predicted to make landfall early the next morning near the big bend as a Category 4 hurricane. That’s pretty powerful. It was projected to head northeast across land and pass about 30 miles north of us.
On the thirty-minute drive home all we talked about was should we stay or go. Our house is made of cypress logs and has a brand-new metal roof. It should withstand winds of up to 100 mph. But, we don’t have hurricane shutters, so a limb blown through a window could cause significant damage. In our neighborhood, we are all on wells, so that means no water if the power goes out. Fortunately, we have a generator that will supply power to the whole house for at least 6 days. Stay or go? We were still debating when we pulled into the driveway. Hubby gingerly eased himself out of my car and painfully navigated the three steps to our back door. With the aid of a walker he slowly made it onto the bed where we immediately elevated and iced his knee. It hurt. He could barely walk. And he still had some stomach issues. We decided to stay.
We woke up Wednesday morning to the positive news that the storm made landfall a little farther north and at a little lower windspeed than had been predicted. During the day it passed by us also a little farther north than originally projected. The wind was still pretty strong. It took down a large tree that smashed our neighbor’s dock. There were also some large limbs and countless smaller branches scattered all over our property. Power lines along our road, and all over the county had trees across them or poles snapped in half. When I went in the garage to be sure the freezer was running on the generator I noticed that my right front tire had gone flat overnight. Apparently, I had picked up a sharp object driving home from the hospital. But, we were all safe.
By Thursday morning the internet was out as well as power. Neighbors were navigating the limb-strewn roads in utility carts checking on each other. Helping folks hook up to portable generators. Offering spare fridge space and bathrooms to those who needed them. Moving debris that blocked driveways. Sharing carafes of coffee in the morning and iced tea or something stronger in the afternoon on a screened-in back porch. By Friday afternoon, hubby was able to hobble out to the porch to join in the neighborly conversation. And, Saturday morning he walked with a cane to the garage to confirm my tire was done for.
I won’t pretend that all of this wasn’t stressful. IT WAS. All of it. I worried if we were making the right decision about staying put. I worried about my husband’s knee pain, swelling, and the possibility of his falling in the middle of the night. I worried about the damage to our neighbor’s dock, and how hubby would be able to climb up in his truck since we couldn’t use my vehicle, and how I could let family know we were okay with no wifi and no phone.
I worried – BUT – not nearly as much as I tend to do about little everyday issues. All of this was stressful, but it truly was out of my control. All of it. It was all in God’s hands. Including making me wait a week to write about it. Because, in hindsight, I can see that He had it all along.
As always.
Laura
A Light for My Path 
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