Thursday, February 07, 2008


That's all it is. And I know that. But when you see what ten seconds before was your room - what ten minutes before you were watching a movie in - you don't view it that way. I keep seeing images of what I saw Tuesday night and think about what I could have saved. I do, however, know that after it was over, we needed to get out.

For insurance purposes, I have begun writing a list of my possessions that were in my room. I started out with the obvious: laptop, video camera, digital camera, iPod, iPod speakers, and so on. After about thirty minutes I had at least five pages of things, and I hadn't even gotten to my clothes. The hardest question I kept asking myself while writing these things down was this: How do you put a price to everything you own? There were innumerable things that could be bought straight from the Columns in Jackson; then there are the things that people made with their own hands, things that had very sentimental value. What are they worth to someone who is writing you a check to try and make up for it all being gone?

I know that I am being quite materialistic. Tuesday night I continuously went between two extremes: "My stuff is gone, but thank God I'm still alive," and "My life is GONE." I felt as though I'd lost part of myself. I know that I will get past this just fine, but it's hard to deal with. It keeps hitting me, like I still don't entirely get it. I do believe, though, that seeing my room blown to pieces of concrete and plaster is what keeps coming back. I wonder how I would feel about it if I hadn't been there. If I'd been working at Dick's, like I would have been had I not left early because I felt sick. I think I would feel much differently had I not seen what was left, had not walked over my old roof, seen what might have been my dresser on another part of the roof, and looked at my floor in the bedroom below.

My roommate did find my Lady Bulldogs soccer sweatshirt, though. Haha. In the parking lot. And I did want a new laptop. Those new iPods look awesome, and I got rid of those ridiculously huge inserts that didn't fit into any shoes I owned. All of my soccer balls were half-deflated and beat up. My bike was at least six years old, and the TV was an old one I got for free from my aunt.

I needed new underwear, too. ;)

1 comment:

  1. You are allowed to be normal, to feel what would normally follow such a devastating situation. Flesh it out. You know as well as anyone that God's big enough to hold us as we wrestle with Him about our current situations. He's always at work (Phil. 1:6); you know that. He will use this for His glory and for your good (Rom. 8:28 and Jer. 29:11). You are exemplary. Please don't feel guilty about how you feel. Just be honest in prayer. He'll change the parts of your heart that need adjustment. I love you, and I'm consistently amazed at and proud of you.