[Not] In Danger

Today we had a bit of a scare in Lethbridge. All day we experienced extremely high winds (gusting up to 100 km/h) which snapped trees in half, tore shingles from roofs, smashed car windows, and toppled power lines. To add insult to injury (I guess in context, more like injury to insult), a wildfire developed just west of the city. The high winds propelled the fire to spread extensively, endangering homes outside of the city. Areas were evacuated, roads closed, and the entire Westside of Lethbridge became virtually isolated from the rest of the city. About five hours later, the city reported that the fire had been contained, the evacuation alerts were off, and most evacuees could return home.

Fire is always a possibility, but I have never been in a situation before when it seemed so imminent. My neighborhood was not placed on evacuation alert and it was not one of the endangered areas, but worrying about the possible danger that could result, if conditions were right, made me sick to my stomach. I paced, checking the city's website, an emergency alert website, and various Twitter feeds, about every five minutes. I even tuned the radio to a country station so I could stay on top of the updates! There was no shortage of silent desperate prayers sent up either.

Please, Lord, let us keep our homes. I knew that my life was not in danger. The evacuation notice would be given with plenty of time to leave safely. It was my belongings that I was most worried about. I've often thought about what I would bring if I had to leave my home. The computers, of course, since they hold all of our photos and music. My huge collection of keepsakes. My horn. The photo albums, home movies. A few changes of clothes, a blanket, my purse. I'd raid the bathroom. If there was enough time, a few favorites from my wardrobe. If I ever had to evacuate, I'm sure it would take a number of trips to the car to get everything ready to go.

Tonight, I have learned (or rather, become much more aware of) these two things: first, I am far more attached to my possessions than I had previously thought; and two, I do not handle frightening situations even remotely well.

I generally consider myself to be one of the more level-headed members of society. This is fairly true: I stay calm while others panic about deadlines, I have never had an obsessive celebrity crush, I can approach problems with a realistic view. Over the years I've come to realize that as soon as I find myself in a situation which I perceive to be dangerous, I completely lose my head. I feel sick, I imagine all possible scenarios, I pace, I search desperately for more information.

This happens rarely. As a child, it was brought on by everything from an argument between my parents to the dark storms which I convinced myself would bring tornadoes. Recently, it was brought on by the prospect of a red-eye Greyhound trip to Vancouver, events at camp during one week this summer, and tonight's wildfire. By God's grace, none of these things ever developed into the situations I, in fear, had predicted.

There isn't much purpose in this post, except to put on paper the things I find myself feeling in this moment. Take from it what you will.

Life returns to normal; our God is a good God.