Today is 6 months to the day that we woke up to the devastation of Hurricane Helene—no power, trees down, no cell phone service, and no idea how bad things actually were beyond our small neighborhood. Those were some unpredictable days during unprecedented times. Still, our family was okay and we had some amazing neighbors who came alongside us in those first few days, helping us cook food on their camping gear, providing us solar lights for when the sun set so we had more light inside, and mostly just providing encouragement and company as we all got to know each other even better than we did.
That said, I don’t think our family was anticipating today being marked by wildfires and the accompanying smoky effects of those fires. We are not in any of the direct lines nor are we in any of the evacuation zones. But that doesn’t mean we are carefree by any means. When you have been through a pretty intense natural disaster like Helene, the residual trauma and the effects of a new disaster fuel anxiety and fear, and, as a parent, it can be difficult to have to sit idly by and watch your teenagers cycle through that overwhelm of emotion.
And yet.
Having watched our girls during the fallout of Helene, I know they are far more resilient and stronger than they believe themselves to be. I also know they are willing to communicate their anxiety to us so we can support them. This is like a microcosm of the way our neighborhood came together to support and empower each other in those days immediately following Helene. In those moments of unknowns, it is far better to walk that path with others than to travel it alone.
And so, as we drove to appointments and saw the smoky haze hanging low over our beloved mountains, and as I have walked alongside each of my girls and their uncertainty and apprehension, I have marveled at their strength even in the face of their fears. Even more, I have welcomed their words and their presence. I am beyond impressed with their willingness to be transparent with me and their dad right now, admitting their uncertainty. Whether they know it or not, it is only by admitting our weaknesses that we are made strong, strengthened by the ones who hear our cries and choose to accompany us through the shadows of the valleys our journey takes us through.
Today, we are safe even if we are not fully relaxed. And we are together, still our amazing and awesome small family of four. I wouldn’t have it any other way. These girls have no idea how much I love doing life with them. They have no true comprehension of how much I admire them and how deeply I love them as we accompany one another through this life we share. I covet the moments when we come together in simple ways, maybe through music the 17 year old is struck by or in playing a game the 14 year old sees me playing and I hand her my phone so she can play while I write words.
These are connections I treasure. It is in the small moments where I am aware of the deep and abiding love I have for them and the deep and abiding love my Father in heaven has for me. I am grateful, deeply grateful, for the small, tender connections in the ordinary moments of this life. Perhaps because I have come to realize there is nothing ordinary about love. A life of shared ordinary moments truly is an extraordinary life.
So often I read posts on social media from parents whose tweens and teens isolate themselves and choose to keep parents well beyond even an arm’s length distance. I recognize how great a blessing it is indeed that our teenagers seek us out. And I welcome it. Every time. May they come to us knowing they are fully welcome and accepted no matter what. Anxiety, fear, celebration, silliness, video games, and music—every last bit of it. These two remarkable young women fill our life to overflowing with joy, laughter, and gratitude. And that truly is extraordinary.