Janice Crow

Reflections - Readiness

It’s about time for the old tornado dream. It happens every year. Different dream, same subject matter. The sirens are blaring. I can see the black funnel cloud. I try to run, but can’t. Or I’ll start off running, and will end up in sort of a weightless pedaling/floating scenario. I’m always dashing around the house screaming at everyone to get to the basement. My son, Jim, will say, “Okay. Let me finish this level on my video game and then I’ll pause it.” Bruce will usually opt to finish watching Die Hard, and then go stand on the front lawn until the tornado is literally nextdoor, with me screaming all the while…..GIT IN HERE!!!!!!!!! Jamie usually wants to wash her hair so she’ll look nice for the paramedics. Why can’t I get anyone to move??? I nearly always wake up in a cold sweat because it all seems so real.

Storms are usually fine fodder for nightmares because they make us feel so helpless, and we can usually draw from enough actual experience to make a dream seem like the real thing. Just like this morning at 4:00 a.m. when the tornado sirens went off again…for real.

Though not exactly a storm, the flooding of the Mississippi back in ’93 was also un-nerving. We lived half a mile from an earthen levee that the National Guard patrolled day and night watching for the river to either top the levee or wash out underneath. My car was packed for days with clothing, non-perishable food, and a suitcase full of irreplaceable photographs, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Sleeping was nearly impossible. I would doze, but wake up realizing that I was lying stiff as a board. I would lay there and wonder, “How fast can I grab the kids and make it out the door?” The tension was incredible never knowing at what moment we would have to make a run to higher ground

I remember reading in the local paper the mayor’s comment when asked what method the city would use to alert the citizens of a levee breach. He said, “Well, I guess we’ll use the same siren we use for a tornado.” Brilliant. So everyone goes to their basement? Glug, glug, glug.

I’m sure since that episode in ’93 that the city has ironed out their early warning system. It’s tested the first Tuesday of every month at 10:00 a.m. sharp when the tornado test siren sounds. It’s funny, but after so many years of hearing that eerie wail, I hardly notice it any more. (I just hope there’s never a tornado at 10:00 a.m. on the first Tuesday of the month, because no one will take cover. They’ll be in the checkout line at Walmart.)

With all the advancements in meteorology they can now track a storm for miles and show you the projected path. They will tell you, “If you live in these towns, you should seek cover now…don’t wait.” They have become so accurate, it’s foolish to ignore them.

Why can we see these things so clearly; yet having centuries of advance warning from the Lord that He is coming, we go about our business as though His admonishment to get ready were simply a drill. I want to live expecting to hear the trumpet sound at any moment….not living in a panic, but rather a state of calm preparedness, confident that God’s word is true.

That old lavender suitcase full of photographs and childhood memorabilia is still packed up after all these years, 17 to be exact. It’s a comfort to know it’s ready to go, just in case. But more importantly, I want to be ready in case that trumpet sounds tonight. And if it does, that old suitcase can stay here, because I don’t want anything from this world weighing me down.

Are you packed up?

Janice