Kids have a tendency to be a bit on the melodramatic side, don’t they? A squabble with a sibling turns into, “Nobody likes me!” Getting grounded from tv for a day turns into, “I’ll never get to watch tv ever again!” (Please tell me mine aren’t the only ones who overreact.)

The skies have been threatening to rain since the weekend, and finally yesterday, it looked like the clouds were rolling in. Baseball was cancelled; tutoring ministry ended early, and we went on about our bedtime routine, as usual. Then, close to 9pm, the city alarm started blaring. Television shows were interrupted with tornado warnings, and I received a text, voice message AND automated phone call from the university advising everyone to seek shelter.

The little three weren’t quite asleep yet (the older two were about to go to bed), so I rounded up everyone and sent them to one of the master bedroom closets. It’s a walk-in, but when everyone piled in there with pillows and a couple of blankets, it got verrrry cozy very quickly. It wasn’t too bad, though. They heaped together like a litter of puppies and started sharing imaginative stories about what it would be like if a tornado hit.

Meanwhile, the tv news that we were listening to on loud volume from the bedroom described the major intersection closest to our house as being a danger zone for potential tornado activity. Yeah.Two of the boys volunteered to pray. (To my chagrin, I didn’t think of it first … I was on autopilot trying to keep everyone calm … five kids in a confined space is a recipe for chaos, natural disaster notwithstanding!) The youngest asked God briefly to protect us and keep us safe. The oldest offered a heartfelt prayer for the storm to pass over us, but if a tornado did land, please let it not harm us — or at the worst, only give us minor bruises. (It was all I could do not to giggle; he was so sincere and concerned.)

While we waited for the all-clear, I fielded questions & comments like these:

• “Mom – How can someone die in a tornado? Wouldn’t it just spin you round & round?”
• “Tornadoes form over the water; hurricanes form over the land.” (<<insert correction & explanation of waterspouts, etc.)
• “Tornadoes sound like trains, only without whistles.”

I left the closet to fetch a couple of more pillows, and when I returned, Nos. 2 & 5 were huddled together, and No. 2 said, “It’s ok if we die, Mom.” I asked what in the world he was talking about, and he explained that if the tornado came, it’s ok if we die, because we’ll go to heaven and get to be with Jesus. The others piped up and added more people’s names, angels, etc. I didn’t know what to say; I was taken aback by his blunt remark. I told them that I was glad they trusted God and weren’t scared, but I hoped that we would all live a long life and die when we’re nice and old. I reassured them that we have a sturdy house and hopefully this would just be a drill, after all. They changed the subject to something else, and it didn’t come up again.

Still, it makes me wonder … as adults, is our faith so clearly and readily articulated? When we are faced with the unknown – something that scares us – are we so promptly willing to put our lives in the Father’s hands?

The sirens continued off and on for about a half hour or more, then I received the all-clear email/text/call, and the news showed that the system was heading out of our area. The monkey boys went back to bed, and – thankfully! – no one had nightmares.

I lost an evening of much-needed study time last night, but it was unavoidable, and even though I’m sure the story of the tornado drill will warp like a fish tale over time, times like last night are what family memories are made of. Times like last night are also a reminder to me of what faith looks like.