We live in Iowa. My kids are aware of summer storms, tornados and hail. They understand that the rain can sometimes make the basement flood (that seems to be my wife’s current personal favorite about moving to the Midwest). The kids think that ice falling from the sky is cool. It’s just a notch down from a foot of snow and a sled. And when the hail makes my little car look like a metal golf ball they think that is just fantastic. I like to think that what they believe is wonderful is the power of nature and the weird things that happen, not that they are finding enjoyment in my scowling at the hood of my car.
But I’m afraid to ask because I’m guessing that it is mostly the scowling that they find amusing.
In the last storm we ended up in a tornado warning. For the first time we took the kids to the basement. A small room would serve as a tornado shelter should we desperately need it. I set a suitcase down on the floor for them to sit on and after a while the storm warning was lifted. I had spent the storm watching the horizon and the massive lightning storm that was overhead.
Afterwards the kids were a bit apprehensive of the storm. They had never been told to go to the basement in a storm. We’ve spent a good deal of years trying to convince them that storms are not something to be afraid of. My best explanation has been that storms are something that God uses to wash the dirt off my truck because I won’t wash it, grow grass and trees, and food on farms, etc. Basically, the thunder, lightning, and rain have a higher purpose than keeping you awake just so that you can keep me awake. In short, “Please go back to bed, so that I can go back to bed. Daddy has to get up early in the morning.” So to that end I invited the kids to join me outside since the rain had let up temporarily. I thought that being allowed to stand outside in the storm might help them to understand that the storm necessarily wasn’t something to be afraid of.
As I walked out the basement door and invited the kids to follow me out I noticed that they hovered right near the door. They were clearly ready to bolt at the slightest indication of a problem. They watched wide-eyed as lightning spidered across the sky. To the north lightning struck and we could hear the crack and sizzle. My oldest took a step back into the house and asked me to come inside. I explained that it was OK and it was safe. She explained that “No, it is not. Lightning is not safe. It can kill you.” It turns out that at five years old she is listening in school. At least she listened when they explained why kids cannot go to recess.
My youngest had a different take on the whole thing. She had a slightly broader, more holistic view of things. She turned around to her older sister and excitedly explained that it was actually safe. Lightning is dangerous she agreed but her Dad wasn’t going to be hurt. Then she turned to me with a little gleam in her eye and a broad smile and said, “Lightning will kill you. When God wants you dead. He can kill you.”
I could not help but laugh as I ushered the kids back inside and off to bed. The wrath of God appears to be a bit more awe inspiring than the fury of their father. I’ve threatened to kill them a time or two (maybe more) and they have learned to laugh at me and point out that I wouldn’t really do it. But I can take some solace at least that they did not think God needed to kill me today. I am sure there is a day coming in our future when they might think differently ten years or so from now. Today at least they still want me around.