One of my New Year's goals is to blog more. This past year was a weird year. I don't know how else to put it.
On March 23, 2019, I went with some ladies to the see a movie. Dave stayed home with the kids. My phone rang right before the previews started, and when I saw it was Dave, I picked up. It's not typical that he would call when I just left the house.
"Hello?"
"Our house is literally burning down. You need to come home right now. This is not a joke."
So, I looked at my friends and said, "Dave just said our house is on fire...I gotta go."
I ran to my car and started the drive home. I prayed and sang and told myself that I had to drive safely because getting into a car accident would make everything worse.
"Jesus, Jesus
You make the darkness tremble
Jesus, Jesus
You silence fear...
Your name is a light that the shadows can't deny
Your name cannot be overcome"
When I was still on the road, Dave texted that everyone was ok, and a huge flood of relief came at that point. Nothing else mattered if my people were ok. On our street, I had to park several houses away, as it was filled with fire trucks. Neighbors stood out in their yards trying to figure out what was going on, and I was the only one speed walking toward the action. I saw Dave in the yard and hugged him tightly. He sent me into our next door neighbor's house where the kids were. That's when the tears came, because those are my babies. My BABIES. They are irreplaceable. My next door neighbors are the most precious and cool grandparents ever who were letting the kids watch Coco and giving them Oreos.
When I left the theater, my friend at the movie theater called another who stayed home that night to fill her in. When she said out loud, "What, the Livingstons' house is on fire?!" her husband stood up and walked out to drive over. He beat me to my house. Once I had gathered my bearings (and my babies), he said, "This is going to be a lot of waiting around. Why don't you take the kids to our house and stay over?"
We did stay over. For three and a half months.
Dave had put the kids to bed when I left. He was watching tv and noticed some smoke outside our back window. This isn't entirely rare, as our neighbor tended to pull his grill out to the driveway when he smoked meat. Dave thought he'd walk through our (attached, swing) garage and check on Joe's grill, but when he opened the door into our garage, it was ablaze. He hollered at all the kids to get out and pulled Jon out of bed. Myla later told me that Dad got all the kids outside the front door and said to go to the sidewalk, but sleepy JD wasn't moving. So my 8-year-old carried her 4-year-old brother down to the sidewalk where our neighbors intercepted them.
Our fire station is nearby, and everyone was wonderful. Things were under control by the time I arrived home. Our stinking rabbit Max even survived. Poor little dude's only survival tactic was to hop into his cage and cower there. I watched the firefighters carry his cage out of the house. The majority of the fire damage took place in the garage, but due to smoke and water damage, a couple of other rooms were pretty marred.
When I carried Jon David out to the car, he saw all the firetrucks and said, "What happened?" "Our house caught fire, buddy," I answered. He looked at me wide-eyed, and said, "What?" Poor little dude had no idea.
(Through that door is the little 6ft utility area. The next room belonged to my girls).
That is the short version of the story. The long version would show so many ways God has taken care of us and blessed us through this experience. We have gotten to a point where we can laugh and joke about it, but when I put myself back in that car ride home, singing and praying that everything would be alright, the fear is still visceral. I am a person who envisions worst-case scenarios, and I believe that God made a worst-case scenario happen while I wasn't there for a reason.
The fire inspector came late that night and stayed for at least an hour and a half. He could not pinpoint the cause, and the official report lists it as "unknown."
In the months following, we were overwhelmed with love and tangible help from our community. I can't wait to write down all of the things that people did to come alongside us and carry our burdens with us. But that's a story for another day.
"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, a
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor."
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