This year, we were not at the beach. Instead, the picnic planners picked a spot in a nearby forest preserve, which had a big field and a covered pavilion. It was a very nice, private space, parking was super-easy, and overall it was a great location for our picnic. We merged our church outing with an immigrant church that meets in our building on Sunday afternoons, so there were quite a few people; and we all sat down and enjoyed a lovely meal together in the very hot afternoon sun...
...And then we watched the dark clouds start rolling in. People started to check their smartphones, and sure enough, there was a rainstorm on its way. It showed up on the radar as mostly green with a little yellow in the center, but nothing after that...So no big deal, we'd just move ourselves under the pavilion when the time came. How convenient to have a close, covered space to move to this time around, right?
I had brought my Bumbo seat for the Mini, since I have a tray attachment for it, and she was happily munching away while the rest of us were enjoying our meals. Most of us had just finished up when a friend piped up, "I see a drop!" Another few seconds passed, then I started seeing little drops here and there. The rain was on its way, so it was time to move. I picked up the Mini in her Bumbo and transferred her just inside the pavilion, then went back for other things. We were soon comfortably set up under our shelter, and I cut up some grapes with my fingernails for her to continue happily munching. The Munch, who, like her Mama, rather detests rain, settled a little farther into the shelter near some friends. The rain began in earnest, but it wasn't anything terrible...just rain getting things wet.
We started to see lightning, and counting the thunder told us it was quickly getting closer. This was expected as radar had showed it to be a pretty quickly moving storm, but it made me a bit more nervous: Many of the kids and several adults, including Daddy, were out in the field, still running around and playing games and such in the rain. The lightning made it a little more exciting for them, I guess, but it wasn't bad. Then in an instant, everything changed. There was a simultaneous flash and boom. The kids screamed and started running for the shelter. The rain started to come down harder. Seconds later, it wasn't rain anymore. It was hail, and it was hail that was getting bigger with every consecutive second. The adults who were out still hung back to make sure all the kids got under the shelter, and I instantly had visions of bloody head wounds about to happen. The kids were in. I yelled to Daddy to GET IN.
The hail was already half-inch or larger, and it was bouncing on the pavement of the pavilion. I couldn't move the Mini in her Bumbo fast enough to get her out of the way of it, so I hunkered down next to her to shield her from it. That's when the wind hit.
The first gust knocked the bags I'd lined up on the picnic bench down on top of me. Then the hail started to fly sideways into the pavilion. People who weren't hunkered down like I was were pushed toward the other end of the pavilion by the force. Hail, twigs, leaves, rain, all the food, all the utensils and plates and other picnicking things--It all went flying around us. Daddy got to me and hunkered down with me around the Mini, and another friend who'd been in the field did the same. We were directly in the path of all that flying debris, and we couldn't move. Hail hit us hard. I had a fleeting thought that this must be what the start of a tornado feels like...And there was no where for us to run. Gradually, as a unit, the 3 of us moved the Mini further into the pavilion. By the time we were a safer distance inside, the wind was already subsiding. It always feels like an eternity in these situations, but in reality, only a minute or two had passed.
As soon as I felt it was safe, I snapped the tray off the Bumbo and grabbed the Mini up. She was a little dirty, but totally fine. She never even cried. The storm was almost over; just a little rain was still falling, and the wind had blown itself out. Now I had the chance to do what I had had no chance to do before, and went to find my older child, who I knew to be somewhere closer to the other end of the pavilion. She had weathered the storm with Little A's mama (who had basically grabbed all the children near her and held them close), and was now sobbing in the arms of another of my friends. She was covered with grime--torn little bits of leaves, flecks of dirt--and she was soaked head to toe...Prettymuch all of us were thanks to that awful wind, but it's much more traumatizing to a sensitive kid. She howled for a long time while we worked to soothe her...but ultimately, it was the marshmallow that did the trick. It was sweet and tasty and distracting, and it filled the mouth and didn't leave room for further wails. Yes, I will use food as needed to soothe. It has its purposes, and I am not ashamed. ;)
Meanwhile, our two churches banded together and got things cleaned up and sorted through very quickly. What could be salvaged was, and what couldn't was collected together to be tossed. A brand new party tent that some friends had purchased was completely destroyed--the tent portion was undamaged and had gone sailing off into the woods, but the plastic poles that made up the frame were bent beyond repair. Its various pieces were gathered up in a pile--Daddy went hunting in the woods for the canvas part. People went to check on their cars, and then the sun came out and the games, especially for the kids, started up again. Except for the general wet-ness and the extra random branches strewn around everywhere, it was just another normal church picnic once again.
I didn't have my camera, but I snatched a few pictures that were posted on facebook by friends to put here so you can get a visual:
The size of the hail, partially melted, in a man's hand.
Is it any wonder Daddy's back now looks like this:
The only spot that's supposed to be so visible is that darker one in the center of his shoulder blades. Almost all the others are small welts from the hail.
The tent is already destroyed.
You can see the hail still coming down in this picture.
There were cars parked around these branches. But not a single scratch on any of them.
We stuck around for another hour or so...the games were in full swing, things needed to dry out a bit, and I needed time to talk and relax after all that, too. The drive home was both terrifying and amazing at the same time...of course all was calm and well weather-wise, but to see the aftermath...There were so, so, so many damaged trees. One of them had completely blocked the eastbound lanes that we were driving in. That road has the opposing lanes of traffic separated by a grassy median, but the tree had fallen at just such a point that we could turn through a break in that median into the oncoming traffic lanes, drive down those a space, then get back into our own lanes again to continue on...I guess as long as we were a steady stream, it worked like a charm...But I'm guessing that was one of the first downed trees to get removed this evening...
So, the take-away lesson from today's adventure? I think there are a few, the first being that God is extremely powerful. Infinitely more so than this very, very scary storm. But. God is also extremely merciful. We were exposed, vulnerable, and completely at the mercy of this thing, and yes, we suffered a few small welts and bruises...but really not even a CAR was badly hurt. Other mercies: We weren't at the open beach; we were in a small, wooded valley. If we'd been higher up, or in a more flat or open area, it's easy to believe that the winds would have been much stronger. And while we didn't have walls, we at least had a solid roof. There were just so many 'little' things that added up.
I don't ever, ever, ever want to be in the thick of something like this again. But at the same time, I'm oddly glad to have been there...it will certainly go down 'in the record books' of the church! But more importantly, it's such a vivid, tangible, memorable example of God's provision and protection, that I would hate to have missed that message. But now I have to wonder...What's the message for NEXT year's picnic going to be...?
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