Martin and I have been joking all summer that God has been whispering to us that this year is the year to get out of America. The drought, the heat, the house getting incredibly cramped. All of these "hints" have been adding to the feeling that it is just our time to leave.
And today, we got the final "hint" in the form of an in-your-face-I- can't-possibly- be-more-more-clear-than-I-am-at-this-exact-moment, downright yell, from the Holy Spirit...
|One of the fire engines down the block. And a water station for the fireman. It was at least 95-100 degrees out there at the time. Thanks guys!|
As we approached our home we saw the news teams pull away from our neighborhood, then we saw the people on the streets, then we saw the fire engines on our block, then we saw our street blocked off, then we talked to the police officer who wouldn't let us drive down our street...
Policewoman: Do you live on this street, sir?
Policewoman: What's the address?
Policewoman: (long pause) Um, well, it's right near there.
Yep, right across the street.
My heart was in my throat.
There is ash covering the backyard.
And now our house smells like a Motel 6.
|A news team reporting live and Martin taking out the trash.|