A Good Word

The Invisible Handprint on the Roof

Part 1

May 4, 2003 began as an ordinary day. Little did my family know our lives would be forever changed in only 10 seconds.

My teenage daughter, Chelsey, and I were singing cheerfully to the song on the radio as we drove to church Sunday evening. During our short trip, the emergency broadcasting system siren sounded on the radio. Chelsey was concerned, but I told her it was probably just a test because the sky appeared clear.

My 19-year-old son, Caleb, was driving separately to church, but my husband, Chris, was home preparing to leave on a business trip.

As we entered the church, people arriving from the opposite direction were excitedly pointing to the sky. They had seen a tornado touch down north of town, close to where our house was. Everyone was ushered to an underground portion of the church.

Caleb, Chelsey and I immediately thought of Chris, still at home. He had been unaware of the dangerous weather. We became anxious as we heard more reports.

Caleb and I tried to contact Chris on our home phone, but the line was dead. We called his cell phone and there was no answer. We prayed as we waited in silence.

The phone rang at the church and Caleb picked it up. It was Chris. He said he had been in the middle of a tornado and had survived without a scratch, but our family no longer had a home.

I couldn’t comprehend what he had said. I began to shake and I prayed, “God, please help the things that mean the most to us to be preserved.”

Not knowing what to think, Chelsey began to cry. Could it be true? The comforting word I held on to was the fact that Chris was OK. That was all that really mattered.

Compassionate friends and family embraced us and helped us to our vehicles. A line of cars followed us to our home. As we approached our neighborhood, we could see the landscape of the area had completely changed.

We turned into our driveway and I cried, “Is this the right place? This can’t be the right driveway!” Our quaint sandstone farmhouse and barn from the 1800s had been totally devastated.

Just before the F3 tornado passed through our home, Chris had been in the kitchen. His mother called and said, “Son, you have to take shelter. Your dad and I see a tornado coming over the hill in the direction of your house.”

Chris ran to the front porch and saw the huge funnel only a few yards away. Knowing there was not enough time to get out of the house, Chris dove over our bed and into the bedroom closet. He braced his feet against the closet door and, within 10 seconds, the tornado hit the house.

Chris said a “consuming peace” of God filled the small closet. He lay on the floor with bedding and clothing pulled over him and asked, “God, is this the day I will be in heaven with you?” Chris’ life was spared.

We thank God for being with Chris in such dangerous, devastating circumstances.