17 November 2013



(Photos from pjstar.com)


Devastation. It happens in minutes. Seconds. A tornado warning. A siren. Devastation.


This is my sister's neighborhood: Devonshire, Washington, IL. They moved into their 4-bedroom Cape Cod in 1968. Their firstborn son was just a couple of weeks old. They've raised a good family in that house. They've maintained, improved, and taken pride in a comfortable family home. In recent years bigger and fancier houses were built. Family homes. Well-tended and well-loved homes.


Today's tornado struck around 11:00am. My sister and brother-in-law were at church. They are safe. Their home is safe. Still, their lives are forever changed. Their community, their neighbors are devastated. Just around the corner all those pretty, well-tended family homes are smashed. Destroyed. Gone.


It's breath-takingly sad. I live 150 miles away and my family is safe and mostly comfortable in their beds tonight. Yet I could easily cry for those families, just like my own, who will live forever in the shadow of this storm.


On a November Sunday, shortly before Thanksgiving, their innocence was lost. The world can shatter no matter how carefully you tend to your corner. In an instant.


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