Monday, July 21, 2014

Kitchen Nightmares

So...this is what happens when you put water on a grease fire:



Thankfully, by the absolute grace of God [if grace is an ocean we're all sinking], my sweet girl walked away with only 2nd degree burns on one hand.  I say only because this could have been SO. MUCH. WORSE.  As we were sitting at urgent care the night it happened I looked over to see an area behind her left ear with several hairs that were singed. 

I am not good in a crisis. [Ask anyone that knows me well. I get upset, jump to conclusions, lose it, cry....I'm no good at all. One time a student had a seizure in the room next to me.  Incidentally, they were watching the dreaded "puberty video".  I freaked out. Absolutely freaked out.  I thought they were going to take me to the hospital instead of him.]  Yet, even when I pulled into the driveway to a huge fireball coming out the door, I didn't get upset. [In a sense that I fell apart. I was upset just not in the mom-has-lost-it kind of upset.] I got the kiddos calmed down [Gabe and Emma were both in the far reaches of the back yard, wailing as if they were on fire] and quickly assessed the damage to Molly's hand - she didn't even know she was severely burned.  We threw open all the windows and headed to urgent care.  

And I never, ever lost control.  Score one for staying cool.

But, I'd be lying if I didn't tell the rest of the story....

Things always happen when Craig isn't here.  The next night, in the midst of a late night conversation about what happened, I lost it.  I screamed, head in the pillow, at the thought of what could have happened.  [Never think about what could happen....] 
  • Her entire head and body could have been engulfed in flames.
  • Emma and/or Gabe could have been engulfed in flames.
When I allowed myself to think about what could have happened it scared me senseless.  For that few minutes I let all of that just hit the ceiling while my sweet husband just listened.  I sobbed "thank you" to God over and over and over again. 

I lost it. Completely and utterly lost it. 

Molly was upset about the damage to the kitchen.  My response to her? "Damn the kitchen.  You are OK." [Yes. I cursed. Sorry.] I didn't even bat an eye at the damage.  Who cares?  It is stuff. I'm not defined by my stuff or lack of stuff.  I can get more stuff or I can throw away the damaged stuff and not worry about it.  That doesn't matter to me one bit. Times like this are why you have insurance. 

I already have the check in hand.

American Restoration is working on getting everything back in order [and I would highly recommend them to anyone who needs any restoration work done for fire, smoke, or water damage]. 

Molly's hand is healing.  [Just a side note here: I know people who have cried over fender benders in parking lots...because of damage to their car!  Really? I don't want to be remembered as a person who drove a nice car or one who decorated really well.  (And honestly, there isn't any chance I'll be remembered for either of those things....)]

My daughter is alive.  My children are OK. My house is livable. 

God is good. 
God is so gracious. 
God will always do more than we could ever imagine. 

Photobucket

No comments:

Post a Comment

I ♥ comments!!! Please give me some love by leaving them!!!!!!!!