Red gravy (AKA spaghetti sauce), jambalaya, gumbo, homemade muscadine jelly, gumbo, lemon pie, chicken salad, almond cookies are just a few of the things that have been made during our evacuation so far since Sunday. It is only Thursday morning.

I am thankful to be in a nurturing environment and have witnessed God’s grace countless times while I sit here totally unworthy. We have a roof over our head, gasoline, good food, great company, and our home in New Orleans is intact. It is a blessing that I cannot comprehend while countless others have lost everything. The devastation for some are catastrophic, and it was not far from me.

I do not want to dwell on that part for this post and write what I wanted to write before the storm hit as if nothing happened. Before we evacuated, I was in total denial and pretended the storm would not hit if we did not leave. I procrastinated packing up my stuff and realized the perspective that I was going all or nothing. I did not pick anything up off the floor because how would I choose what I wanted to flood or not? I left everything where it was, but packed some books, important papers, all of my professional clothes from eBay and the thrift store (because if we had to relocate, I wasn’t buying new clothes), and my computer. I left everything elsewhere. I had it before and wanted to take the cabinet I just repainted. My dad kept coming in and out of my room, checking my progress, but all he saw was me sitting on the floor surrounded by clothes and downloading Hallmark movies on my computer. I had my priorities in order. If I were going to be stuck somewhere, at least I would have happiness. We were unsure of our plans but have been at my cousin’s house in Ruston. Remember, my people who are worth the drive and have the gift of making you feel at home with no worries?

Here are a few stories that happened “before the storm”:
We left at 1:30 AM. I will always credit my dad for his wisdom, even though there was grumbling on my part. We had no traffic while some people sat at a standstill for hours on the interstate trying to leave. I took a massive cup of coffee with me and, as you can imagine, eventually had to use the restroom. I was alone in my car because there was no way I was leaving my miracle car behind, and my dad and his sister were in his car. I got a phone call in Utica that he had to stop for the restroom and forget him. I said, well, I cannot because I have an emergency and am also on a hunt. For context, we are on a backroad in the middle of nowhere, about 4:30 AM.

We rapidly approach a gas station.

Hope.

At this point, my brain has given too much hope to my bladder that I can use a restroom, and there is no going back. The store is dark, and the door is locked, but there is someone inside. It’s always no unless you ask, right? My dad and aunt told me it’s closed, but I am not a quitter, so I knocked on the door.

“We open at 6:00.”

It’s a little after 5 AM at this point, and my bladder has no mercy. It does not care about me anymore. It was not out of spite, but maybe it was…. a little bit. When you gotta go, you gotta go, so I turned into Forrest Gump “I gotta pay,” and the dark woods behind the gas station became a bathroom.

If only that were the most traumatizing part of this evacuation story, I could have as a souvenir.

At the gas station, I decided I should probably fill up if I could not find more elsewhere. However, this was also a “trust” situation, and I knew I could make it to Ruston without fueling up. But, I failed because I did not see the “fraud alert” text on my phone to ‘ok’ the charges; thus, I could not get gasoline. I saw the text later and pressed “N” for no thought because I changed my mind.

However, that is not what it meant, so I spent the next hour on the phone with the fraud alert people trying to unblock access to my very own debit card. “YES, I AM ME. ASK ALL THE QUESTIONS.” My family wanted to keep driving, but I explained my life could not move forward until I dealt with this.

Ian told me to be safe, and I told Ian that he was a hero in this situation and that he could go the rest of his workday knowing that. He kind of just sat there and hesitantly responded like “….ok?” and it cracks me up.

Ian, if you are reading this for some reason and I know you are not, I still believe it. I watch a lot of Hallmark and know our paths could cross again, but hopefully, it’s not because I locked myself out of my bank accounts. Ian, you’re the knight in shining armor to this damsel in distress. Look, it’s been a stressful week, so go with it, ok?

Anyway, we finally made it to Ruston. Before we left, David mentioned coming to stay with them where a lightbulb went off. Ruston has the best peaches in the world, and that is not an exaggeration. Mitcham Farms is this giant peach orchard where they sell seasonal peaches and all kinds of peach things. When I headed out of town on my last visit, I stopped and bought salsa and a t-shirt (that is how good they are). So, the light in this dark situation was that I had JUST finished my jar of salsa, and I could restock! Also, on my last visit, I saw an Ice Cream recipe book at the store Five Below but didn’t think I NEEEEEEEDED it. On my drive home, I made a pit stop in Utica and on my turn on the highway, spotted a thrift store I couldn’t resist. It was there I found an ice cream maker for $10; the first thing I did when I got back to New Orleans was clean it and made peach ice cream (with my Ruston peaches, of course!).

I was so disappointed I did not buy the ice cream book and went to three Five Below stores around the New Orleans area, where none of them had the book. What is this, months later? I went to the Five Below store in Ruston on Tuesday, and not only did they still have the ice cream book, but when I checked out, it was half price. I walked out of there with my long-awaited book of ice cream recipes for $2.50 plus tax. I immediately texted Rachel and David and said, “He never stops”. After that, when I went to the grocery store for gumbo ingredients, I found my favorite coffee on sale and stocked up.

It’s the little things, and God does not miss a detail. It’s His little graces that show He never forgets us and will provide all our needs. I am not sure how long we will be in Ruston, but I am so thankful we are here.

Another thing is my dad just had cataract surgery done, so it was not until we got here that my aunt told me it was the blind leading the blind on the drive up. Isn’t that comforting? My dad joked that they had one good eye between them, so I guess they were driving by faith and not by sight. (Insert cringe face emoji here).

Sometimes grace is a welcoming and safe place to go. ❤

I spent my first week of my new job in quarantine…

God did it again! I lost a job and gained another one!

Hurricane Ida

I found my brother in a hotel lobby.

Desires of the heart: When God sends you on a cross-country road trip with your favorite person— and two kids.