A family was in their home, ran down into the basement to the lowest point possible for safety. As the storm ripped the house from the foundation, it tore a newborn baby from it's father's arms. As of Friday, they still hadn't found their precious baby. What a tragedy on top of a tragedy.
After hearing that story, with all my pregnant hormones, I was crying. (I'm sure a big surprise) Then we were asked to think of the hardest and most trying times of our lives. No one wanted to share. One sister shared and then I decided to share. I lost it again. I had a hard time telling people about my hard time. I have to say, I am so thankful for the trials I went through, to give me the gratitude I have today. Even the fact that Marky played in his poop and smeared it all over himself this morning, I can only laugh and clean him up with pure satisfaction, love and excitement for that blessing. Cause let's face it, every baby plays in poop at one point. If I never had poop to clean up, I wouldn't have the blessing of a sweet little man in my life and a sweet baby girl on the way. Totally worth all the work.
After church yesterday, I told Mark the story and I cried again. I really turned into a basket case yesterday.
My heart and prayers go out to that family and all the families who lost loved ones and everything they have worked for in their lives. I pray those sweet southern brothers and sisters of ours can get the help they need and start rebuilding.
