Sometimes I like doing dishes. It sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true. Sometimes I need to do the dishes. Not like there’s mold growing in the old chilli bowl on the counter type of dishes, but I need time to think and clear my head kind of dishes.

It’s 9:30 at night, and the house is quiet (for once). Hubby is in bed, kids are long asleep, and our dog is lazily sprawled out on the floor. Tonight, I might have been tempted to leave the dirty dishes on the counter. It’s been one of those weeks. We found out a few days ago that we are moving again…to California, no less. (I know, I know, exciting news that I will have to talk about later. For now, suffice it to say that once again boxes are stacking high in our “living room” and the panic is settling in.)

So I could have left the dishes for the morning and felt satisfied with my day’s work of packing and all that was accomplished. But I wasn’t quite ready to go to bed and doing dishes seemed like a nice distraction. It keeps my hands busy and lets my mind think, pray, and attempt to solve problems, like for instance, finding our dog, Abby, a temporary home.

It’s a long story, but at this point we can’t take Abby with us to California and now we are not sure what to do. We thought we had a temporary solution, but that has fallen through. Two days shy of D-Day and we don’t have a plan in place. What do you do in moments like these? Pray and wash the dishes, I guess. What else can you do?

The other night I lay in bed wide awake as the rain beat against the windows and hail pelted the glass. The windows shook so violently I was sure any moment the wind was going to shatter them. I have never witnessed a storm so loud, so violent. I remember the newscaster earlier in the evening warning us that storm systems were moving as fast as 60 mph so they could sneak up on you quickly in the middle of the night. They did. I lay there, stiff as a board, waiting anxiously for the sound of the siren telling us to seek shelter because a tornado had been spotted. I was planning our escape route in my head and hoping I could grab the kids quickly enough.

But thankfully, after a bit of shaking, thundering, lightning, wind, rain and hail, the noises became more and more distant, until all was quiet again and I fell asleep. We survived.

Lately, nothing has scared me so much as tornadoes. They are completely unpredictable. Yes, they can tell you to be on the look out and that conditions are ripe, but no one knows when and where, or even if, one will actually touch down. And once they are on the ground, even then they have a mind of their own.

Darrell mentioned the other day that we are living in a tornado. I think he’s right. Right now we are watching, praying and hanging on for dear life. We find our comfort in a loving Savior and in knowing that some day, when the whirlwind stops whirling and it’s all over, we will once again be placed on solid ground…wherever that may be. Virginia, Kentucky, California, wherever. In the end, I guess it doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s ground.

So with the dishes done, and my thoughts somewhat cleared, I can go to bed. And if you think of it, pray for Abby. And us. And a solution. We need a miracle.