It’s been one month—today—since we stood and watched our house burn to the ground.
March 19 had been a typical Sunday. The girls just finished their popcorn and movie night, as was their Sunday night tradition. Before getting on their pajamas for bed, they were wrestling and playing around with AJ.
I can still hear them all laughing.
I heard a sound outside and went to see what silly antics Tyler was up to, since he loves to play jokes like that. I saw a light through the back door. As I got closer, I realized it was moving. It wasn’t a light at all. It was fire and it was crawling quickly across the wall outside our back door. I screamed for AJ to come fast.
All that happened after that is a blur. Children running away, the 911 call, my frantic husband running through the fire that was quickly devouring our home.
I see visions of it every night when I try to go to sleep. They wake me up multiple times a night.
Except this was an actual nightmare.
Watching your house burn down is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. The place you were brought to from the hospital. The home your life happened in. Four generations of my family lived their lives inside those brick walls. My parents, my siblings, all five of my children and my grandson LIVED life there. Every part of over 43 years!
It was the only home my girls have ever known. The one true home and safe place my boys (and I) ever had.
What happened to that house was nothing short of a death for all
of us. All we could do was watch, helplessly, as it left us. The angry, relentless flames lit up the night sky.
Our family and neighbors stood with us. The firefighters stayed and fought the flames through the night. We huddled together in shock and sadness. All any of us could do was thank God we were alive and together.
I know without a shadow of a doubt God protected us that night. The fire started and spread right above us without any knowledge it was even there. Just minutes later things and things would have been totally different.
So many little miracles.
So. Much. God!
We are grateful for life. We are thankful for LOVE and family, hospitality and community. People are amazing. I have a lot more faith in humanity than I did before this. People I have never met, some I have always known and others we barely knew have showed up for us in ways we can never repay or thank properly. I’m in awe.
Still, we mourn this incredible loss. All the good that has and will come doesn’t make all the hurt go away. It softens some of the blows it but it’s still there.
The history of my family was in that house. Heirlooms. The bed my great grandparents slept in—which was also Aubrey’s—gone. All of her things I saved no longer exist.
(One of the few items we found in the rubble, Aubrey’s ballet shoes)
Antique furniture, rugs, china saved from generations. Every Christmas ornament, music box and stocking. Hundreds of books my siblings and my children read (and were saving for their children).
(Books in the playroom)
Home movies. Art. Pictures. Childrens’ Artwork. Every keepsake. Bibles. Toys. Lovies. Clothing. (It probably seems silly but it takes years to build a wardrobe and can’t easily be replaced. Not to mention, things cost far more now than they ever did before.)
You never know how many little things you have or what they mean until they’re ripped away from you.
I realize all of that is material. They were special, they were important and they were ours…
but still just things.
Family can’t be bought.
Life can’t be replaced.
But neither can that home.
There is a lot of humility required, being in this position. Pride has to take a back seat. We are depending on others and that’s not easy for us. We spent our lives building up what we had and now we are starting over from scratch. The list of things we have needed on a daily basis is long, although “need” is a loose term here. They’re just comforts really. We have generous family who has put a temporary roof over our head. We have clothes on our backs from donations (and because my crazy grown child and husband ran through heavy smoke and saved some of ours).
God has provided so much, in so many ways, and I believe He will continue to provide for our family.
I always considered myself a sympathetic person. I felt deeply for those in need. I gave where I could, when I could. After this I’ll never again see someone dealing with this kind of loss the same. I pray this changes me forever so that I can give more.
Do more.
Be more.
This is just another bump in the road on our path to Heaven.
Through life’s tests, we are to be strengthened and draw closer to God. To lead others to Him. Without Him, we are nothing and have absolutely nothing.
My prayer is that you take away the same things from our story that we have.
Nothing on earth is forever.
Things ARE really just things.
God is great. ALL the time.
LOVE💜
