OK, so what does a Busy Black Woman do during an earthquake?
She sets down her laptop and runs out of the house barefoot to see if it is just her house rattling like a freight train, then wonders whether Harold Camping was right after all...
Then she calls her loved ones, beginning with the husband (who does not answer); the parents (who do, and report minor damage); the aunt (who stayed in bed through the whole thing); and the brother in law in NY (who called to check in on her and claims that he only heard car alarms going off). She goes back outside to see more neighbors all standing around with the same puzzled look on their faces. She goes back inside to survey the damage and finds a broken coffee mug on the kitchen floor. Then she checks Twitter and Facebook to read the reactions. On Twitter she learns that it was a 5.8 magnitude quake and that it was felt in NYC. On Facebook, she sees that the nephew-in-law has checked in to make sure all is ok in DC. Then she turns on the cable news and learns that the epicenter was in VA but the trembling was felt as far away as Illinois and Georgia. Then the husband calls in to say that he is OK. Then she discovers that cell phone service is still down, so she cannot call to check on the brothers or the rest of the NYC family. She posts a few comments on Facebook, shares a laugh or two with a few friends from California, and thinks that she might go mix herself a drink.
But then it hits her--she is incredibly blessed because this could have been really, really bad. She thinks about the earthquake that hit Japan earlier this year and how that nearly caused a nuclear meltdown. She considers the catastrophic devastation wrought by the earthquake that hit Haiti. She remembers the tsunami of a few years ago.
And she thinks about what she was doing at the very moment the earthquake hit...she was writing a post of complaints on the very topic of how discomforting it is for someone to remind her of how things could be worse. Awkward. Ironic. Probably will not get posted any time soon, if at all.
She thinks about how she's been feeling sorry for herself lately, and how the sense of powerlessness is nothing compared to real powerlessness. She expects that when she goes to church this Sunday (because you'd better believe she'll be somewhere thanking God on Sunday morning), there will be a sermon in all of this, and it will change her perspective. Heck, she's not even going to wait for Sunday...
Thank the Lord!