Okay, let me explain. About a month ago, as my wife and I slept, a crashing sound woke us. It had stormed all day (the same storm that rocked Alabama), so we assumed it was thunder. But then my wife says, "Why does it sound like it's raining inside of our house?" Walking into the living room, I saw that about a third of the kitchen ceiling had caved in and water poured all over our kitchen table.
Goodbye Bibles, goodbye prayer journal. Blurg.
As I stared into the kitchen chaos, the living room ceiling fell. For a moment, both my wife and I thought that maybe the big tree in our backyard had crashed through the roof. It was that loud.
And so began the craziest month I've had since moving to Nashville. We lost some stuff. We had to move out of our home and find a new place to live. We slept on futons and air mattresses in our friend's spare rooms. We daydreamt about having our own kitchen and some time alone.
Now, I've learned plenty about God in the midst of this ordeal, but I want to hear from you (it's been so long, right?) before I jump into a homily. Have any of you gone through crazy stuff like this and wondered if God was sleeping on the clock or had in some anti-septic religious sentiment decided you were too happy and needed a stiff dose of Old Testament suffering?
Have you looked up and asked "what the hell? Why me?"
It's okay. This is a safe place. You can be honest.
As a bonus, I'd like for you to hear a song I wrote before my home disaster, monstrous tornadoes in the south and midwest, or people recently expecting the rapture.
History Lesson at the End of the World by The Summer Country