God in the Storm

A hurricane was coming. We moved our vacation from South Carolina up to Williamsburg, Virginia, to get out of its path.

My grandfather’s weekly caregiver, Jessica, gave my family a gift—staying with him for a solid week. And so this would be our first real vacation since he’d moved in with us three and a half years before. We weren’t going to let a storm get us down.

The second day, ominous winds blew at our home in North Carolina and also at our vacation rental on the James River. My youngest son spiked a high fever, and in the middle of the night, started having seizures. We rushed him to a nearby hospital, where, it turns out, he was misdiagnosed.

Back at our home Jessica was also up all night as the winds crashed around our house. The hurricane hit hard; the power went out. My grandfather was confused, and Jessica did her best to reassure him. My son’s condition worsened, so we drove all night to get back to an Asheville hospital, where he was diagnosed with a mosquito-borne illness and recovered.

Jessica kept my grandfather calm and safe throughout the storm and my son’s illness. Had we been at home when my son fell ill, we would have had a very sick little one and a very upset grandfather in the middle of a hurricane. God took care of us all with divine timing.