Showing posts from November, 2013

Five Kids and a Flood

(How God Provides After the Storm)   The call for mandatory evacuation didn’t scare us; the city of Long Beach stretches between the Atlantic and the bay with less than a mile across. It often cried wolf before a storm.   “Guys, don’t go crazy packing—we’ll be home in a day or two. Just two outfits and a sweatshirt.” Andrew dropped his baseball gear on the wooden floor next to Stephen’s new guitar amp; Elijah and Aaron left their video games on the coffee table. Jordan threw a few Barbies back in her toybox. I finished a load of towels and left them in a laundry basket on the floor.     Gene shook his head as he stomped downstairs. “My mom refuses to leave, so I’m staying.”    I grumbled, but at least our dog could stay back too.   I drove our five kids to my parents’ home on Long Island’s north shore, away from the ocean. As the wind howled, trees cowered; one snapped and knocked down power lines. In the dark, I checked my glowing phone every two m

Goofy-footed on the Bunny Slope

       Me at age 12, performing a very dangerous skateboard trick. Don't try this at home without proper training.     Time to dream…   Careful what you wish for…it might not fit. At age twelve, I wished I could hang-glide and skateboard. Knowing Mom/Dad wouldn’t go for the hang-gliding, crashing-into-a-mountain idea, a new skateboard topped my Christmas list.   Dad’s portable radio was set on the twenty-four hours of uninterrupted Christmas music channel. Jingle bells danced in my head. But it wasn’t music keeping me awake—just the hopeful sound of wrapping paper crunching and possibly wheels turning on a new skateboard. My dream present.   As soon as the slightest sliver of orange lined the horizon, I darted to my sister’s bedside. “Wake up, Laur! It’s Christmas!” She popped out of bed like our old Jack in the box—fast with a bit of morning squeak to her voice.   “Let’s wake ‘em! I hope I get a baton.”    The scent of candy canes and steaming coff

Rise and Shine

Awake for cake, maybe?     Something is wrong about getting up before the sun, but I do. Waking to moonlight could explain my werewolf mood of the morning. Pure willpower and possibly too much defaf coffee before bed force me to dash upstairs to the bathroom. I don’t want to, but in our house of seven plus grandma, it’s the only way to have a peaceful shower. My soul is just not ready to start the day. Or ready to start their day…   At first, gentle words grace my lips, full of love for my sleeping children: “Rise and shine, my little chickadees. Time to get up and go to high school.” Just like Snow White singing to her bluebirds. Okay, minus the little chickadees, and minus the rise and shine part. “Get up,” said in a reasonable decibel.    Ten minutes pass.   “Get up, Elijah.”   “I am.” “You’re not.” “I’m going.” “You haven’t moved.”   “Get up, Aaron.” “I am.” “You’re not.” “I’m going.” “You haven’t moved.”   Twenty minutes.