In the morning sun together we will rise

This past week has been weird. Unsettling. In the early morning hours on March 3rd, Nashville and Middle Tennessee experienced tornadoes that ripped through neighborhoods leaving homes, schools, businesses, and hearts in shreds and chaos. 

As the morning light crept across the sky, the true extent of what happened overnight started becoming evident. Debris for miles and miles. Buildings reduced to their foundations. My son’s middle school in East Nashville suffered extensive damage. It still stands. Other schools weren’t so lucky. 

As the week progressed, it became clear that my son’s middle school would not be able to reopen for quite awhile. And, so the plan was to pack up the school and relocate to another middle school a few miles down the road. Friday morning volunteers showed up to help and by 2:30 that afternoon the school was packed up.

My husband and I took our son to see the school and volunteer with cleanup and packing. The drive across town clearly showed the path that the tornado took. Very unsettling. And as we approached the school and saw the damage and destruction around it, we realized that it was bad. Very bad. 

It turned out that by the time we had arrived at school to volunteer, the packing up of rooms was already done. What they thought would take days took only hours. So many people showed up to help out! As we walked back to our car through the giant field that is behind the school, we noticed the trees that had lined a sidewalk were completely gone. So were the soccer goals. And a set of bleachers. Insulation and roof shingles were scattered through the field. As we were noticing these things, my son said “Wait! I need to go check something!” And he ran over to a little dip in the ground. He shouted that he and his friend had hidden a broken lock in this little slope of earth and he wanted to see if it was still there. It was. Right where they had left it. He brought it home to take to his friend at their new school. 

There is no rhyme or reason with tornadoes. How do you explain the fact that one house is standing without a shingle out of place, but the house right next door is demolished? How do you comfort your child as he looks at his school and wonders when he will be able to return? 

Life can often feel like a tornado. No rhyme or reason. Nothing but chaos.

For the past few days, when my son and I have been in the car, he has played several songs over and over again. Both by Gabe Dixon (local singer/songwriter/musician/all-around awesome human). They comfort him. And truth be told, they comfort me. So we sing out loud together. 

We sing until we believe:

“That all will be well
Even though sometimes this is hard to tell
And the fight is just as frustrating as hell
All will be well...
You can ask me how but only time will tell”

This morning as I drove him in the dark to his carpool spot, he turned on “I Can See You Shine”, and we sat in the car together singing as the bright sunrise began to creep over the horizon: 

“In the morning sun together we will rise.
I can see you shine, I can see you shine”

As we begin a new week, as people make their way around this city, I pray that
“All the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel that love that radiates, illuminating what I know is true"
ALL WILL BE WELL.

I believe in the people of Nashville. I believe because I have seen the compassion and selflessness and tenacity and hope and hard work that we are doing across this great place we call home. 

Nashville, my home, I can see you shine. In the morning sun, together we will rise. 

Songs: 
All Will Be Well
I Can See You Shine