After a week of vacation from down-under (of which I will go into detail at a later time), we made our way across Nebraska. A storm loomed above us so ominous that I was intent on watching for tornadoes out all windows and the sunroof.
After checking into the hotel my husband, Justin, opened the back hatch to begin unloading our cargo in the horrific wind storm as we were pelted with rain. The tornado siren blared, a terrifying sound to someone unaccustomed to such warnings, and I went into Mommy panic mode. I told Justin what to do, opened my son’s door, and as fast as my hands could move, I unbuckled his seatbelt, and told my daughter to get ready to hurry when Daddy opened her door. I bolted into the lobby, one child hanging precariously from my hip, and pulling one crying girl faster than her legs could stay beneath her. “Is that a tornado siren?” I asked the concierge as I flew through the doors. “Yes, and the hotel lobby is the safest place to be.” I looked around at the sliding doors and windows, wondering how in the blithering blue moon this could be the best bet when there was a lower, interior hallway not five yards from where I stood.
As the kids and I had headed to the lobby, my husband decided that he needed to move the car. Now, why in blithering blue moon do you need to MOVE the car during an impending tornado? This I would make sure to ask him if any of us made it out alive! I later found out (because I did ask) that he moved it because he didn’t think the structure would have outlasted a twister. Okay…. And that we would have needed a way out of the area if in fact it was hit. Okay… This was because, “Did you know what is most difficult to get after a natural disaster? Water.” And he felt we would need a way to escape. He got points for thinking it through, but I would have given him a bazillion points if he had stayed there with us in the lobby!
I sat on the floor of the lobby with my son (who, as I mentioned previously, has Autism) who was grappling to get out of my arms, screaming because he didn’t want to be confined and had NO idea of the danger that lurked outside. Much to my dismay, I hadn’t done my part in keeping my frazzled self under control and my daughter was crying, frightened over the chaos that surrounded her (okay, I was the source of the chaos). All she knew was that thunder was crashing and lightening was criss crossing the sky (she detests both) and Mommy was worried about an unknown entity called “tornado.”
When Justin came in from moving the car, he took Jeremiah from me and headed for the windows. Now, I may not have heard a tornado siren before that night, but I have seen a tornado in person. We all know they are monstrous beings that have no respect for anything in their path. Most of us also know what precautions to take when there is an impending twister. Stay away from windows. Right. So why in the blithering blue moon was my husband standing by the window with our little boy? Later he would tell me (because I asked) that it was the only way to keep Jeremiah quiet. Good thing. We’ll have a quiet son who gets hit by flying debris.
The people who came in the lobby as I sat there making my safety plan (roll that chair on top of Payton, and cover myself and my flailing, screaming son in the one over there) skipped through the doors, some of them laughing like they’d had a cheery little jaunt in the rain on a summer evening. I have no idea what in the blithering blue moon was wrong with them. Maybe the same thing that was wrong with my husband, they forgot what had happened in Oklahoma just four days prior. Right, that FE5 had wreaked havoc on the town of Moore that very week.
In the end, one source said a small tornado had been sighted, and another said there had just been a churning in the atmosphere that could produce a twister. Good enough reason for me to stay safely indoors, and away from windows.
Listening to our gut feelings and paying attention to warnings can keep friends and family safe, and point us in the right direction. I have learned on numerous occasions to give ear to what my intuition is telling me or there may be a price to pay.
On our adoption journeys, this intuition can play a role, it may not be a life or death role, but is still vitally important to the health and well being of our family. We can move at the right time, and see what God has in store for us. We can be warned that the path we are on is not one that will benefit our children.
In what ways have your instincts played a role in your life or on your adoption journey?
lovin' adoptin' & autism 