When storms come to call (or, it's all in how you look at it)

When I heard the weather alert on my phone, I thought it was no big deal. I'd already seen pea-sized hail this week, so I wasn't worried - until I read the warning to shelter; to watch for flying debris, and to expect damage to a roof, or car (or something I didn't want to think about).

I should tell you I'm not afraid of storms. People from my home state part recall the one that battered Xenia, and how it smashed some houses like ants - but left pictures at homes next door untouched. But this alert worried me, so I took my cat to an interior room to try to wait things out. I distracted the cat with a toy. I tried not to worry too much. I said a Hail Mary for first responders, who'd be having a very long night.

I heard the high-pitched, howling wind. I heard rain coming in sheets, and thunder, and what I guessed was hail. When I thought it was safe, I crept out of that room, and looked out the door to my deck.

My car; the house windows, and the deck were fine. Even the tomatoes were standing - but the patio table had been tossed aside like a discarded doll. The only thing keeping the table from flying into the yard was a chair wedged beneath it. The screen door sustained a hand-sized tear, but otherwise, it was fine.

Nine hours ago, I was worried about learning a new job skill. Two hours ago, I was worried about the laundry still undone.

Ten minutes ago, I realized: I had nothing to worry about.

I have work. I have family. I have shelter, and I know where I'm sleeping tonight. And, that's worth everything - no matter how you look at it.