Are you drowning in self-pity, longing for something more, feeling completely broke in the midst of life’s struggles?  Have you longed to stay in bed rather than rise to another unpredictable day?  This was my story…as one disastrous activity after another crushed my spirit again and again.  Plunge with me into the raging waters and discover where I sought refuge in the storm.

This story begins in the summer of 2012 at an end of the season 8U baseball gathering of family and friends.  Boys and girls raced around the yard, swam in the pool, and ate much food; the atmosphere was full of laughter and joy.  Then it happened…the fun subsided as my son, Adam, screamed for help and lifted a young boy out of the waters, handing him to my husband; he would not take another breath.  I recall a feeling of deep guilt for days even though there was nothing that could change the course of that day.  The baseball party ended with many heavy hearts and a thick fog hovering over us.  Our life as we knew it had changed forever, and no one knew how we would trek through another day.

We cancelled our 4th of July family vacation in Texas that week so we could remain at home with our family and friends for the funeral services.  Much gloom filled the days to come, and we spent our 4th of July watching fireworks with the Hopkins family along the Ohio River.  The Hopkins family shared that tragic day with us, and we found some strength in one another’s company.    

Later in the month, our family left for North Carolina so our oldest son could attend a baseball camp at UNC.   After the weekend camp ended, we made it a vacation and camped in the mountains.  We were thankful for some time away from home, where on occasion we would escape the nightmare for short periods of time.  We were soon reminded of home, when our security alarm sounded, and ADT Security called.  Thankfully, we were able to contact a neighbor to check on the house and no one had entered our home.  Somehow, one of the wires in the back door had been jolted and set off the alarm.

As the week went on, we were thankful for the beauty that can only come from God…sounds from the water rolling over the creek bed rocks, beautiful forestry in the mountains and the magic of a waterfall as it cascades down into a pool below.  Tiny blue butterflies flew around us, and we were amused when one landed on Adam’s shoulder.  This place, deep in the woods, secluded from the rest of the world, was like a piece of heaven on earth.  Here amidst the beauty of the North Carolina’s mountains we sought refuge from the storm.     

Another tidal wave made landfall while my mom, two younger sons and I sat awaiting the local parade.  The sirens were blaring and the parade was just beginning when out of nowhere a storm rolled into town.  We ran to our cars for shelter, not anticipating the intensity of the storm’s rage.  The strong winds jolted my Highlander from side to side with earthquake like force and huge pellets of hail torpedoed our windows.  I screamed at my boys to stay away from the windows and to cover their heads.  I knew the fear of God that day.  Later, as we drove the streets in search of an exit, I realized how blessed we were to have survived the storm.  Massive trees had been uprooted in every direction and windows had been shattered in many homes.  We later learned a micro-blast had erupted in Oakland City that day.  My spirit had been shaken once again and much destruction remained in my wake. 

Summer soon came to an end, and I had to part with my three sons as they returned to school.  I had kept a fairly tight leash on the boys after the events of the summer so this would be a difficult transition.  The school year seemed to be going along smoothly under the circumstances, but then one day a call came from the school nurse regarding my oldest son’s mood change.  She told me he was no longer the same happy, driven boy when he worked in the office.  She said he appeared to be depressed and had lost his sense of humor and fun-loving attitude.  The nurse also told me that my youngest son was making daily trips to the nurse’s office.  My boys were suffering from the tragedy of the summer and would need some professional counseling.

The struggles were mounting, and I was in dire need of some inner strength.  I had no knowledge of the raging water that would soon leave behind more destruction, but this time in a literal sense.  One evening as we gathered outside for a fun evening around the bonfire with friends, an overflowing toilet on the second floor flowed into the ceilings and walls and escaped into the kitchen and family room below, leaving behind a water disaster.  We lived in chaos for weeks as the workers dried out the house and started the repairs.  No matter the number of attempts, they couldn’t match the soiled area of the ceiling with the texture that already existed.  After bringing in their so-called, expert with no avail, they finally completely tore out the entire ceiling and began again.  Consequently, the estimated three weeks for repairs, turned into months.

Thanksgiving dinner was moved to my mom’s house, and just before Christmas, they were still painting the walls.  They soon discovered how displeased I was with their customer service as I shared a few choice words.  Then, at last, they were finishing up the final paint job in the kitchen, soon to be out of my house, and then they broke a piece of the counter while moving the stove.  No you cannot make this stuff up.  With Christmas, just days away, I finally asked them to pack up and come back at the beginning of 2013.  I had endured all I would of their non-stop, careless mistakes.  I was having Christmas at my house. 

On Christmas, a snow blew into town; it was beautiful.  The next day, with the snow still falling, my husband had to travel to work.  On his way, he became stuck in some heavy snow.  As he tried to gun his way out of the snow, he blew up the engine in the Camry, and we were now short one vehicle.  The real kicker in all of this is we have two four-wheel drives; I have no idea why he drove the Camry that morning.  This year had been one of the worst of my life, and I had reached a new level of brokenness.  I dragged myself through days of family activities and work, running on empty.  I endured mistrusting, accusations from my husband, and my home was in disarray.  Where would I muster the strength to weather the storm?

During the Christmas season, I visited one of my dear friends, who is a God-loving, spiritual soul, and we exchanged gifts. The gift I received was Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.  As 2012 came to an end, I prayed for new beginnings filled with peace and joy.  In 2013, I made a decision to arise each day with Jesus.  The road ahead would still be rough and there were many more bumps along the way, but I now sought Jesus for my spiritual strength.  This was the beginning of something beautiful, although at the time I had no idea how my story would unfold.  I wish for you many blessings in 2016, and I hope you will return to Peace Transcends for more of my story.

By Jeanette Lytle

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