You'd Never Guess...

The status of our "home" has been part of the loss we've felt over the months. A few weeks ago we heard that all the cars parked at our school (for safety) had definitely been taken by the regime forces for use in the war.

It was sad to hear the report despite the understandable and even inevitable consequences in times of war. The best case for which I was hoping was that someone would pry open the petrol tank and steal the petrol early on - and that thus no one would later be able to drive it off. Often I amused myself by scanning the news reports to see if I could spot a revolutionary driving off to the front lines in our little silver hatch back.

But - BUT, we just received an email in which it appears that our car is still parked at the school. In fact, it is now THE ONLY car still at the school because when "they" tried to take it, it wouldn't start. If we were more aware before we left in the rush of the evacuation, I would have disconnected the battery, or maybe removed it altogether, or any number of deterrent activities. But the reality was we were so harried and just trying to get out that these little details fell by the wayside. Despite this, our little auto managed not to work at just the right time.

Yes, we are giddy with the news it is still in that parking lot. It's probably symbolic. The car is the most expensive asset we left, but not the most memorable and not the one we'd be most sad to lose.

Our colleague noted how "lucky" we are. If you know us, you can probably guess that we don't feel lucky! But, we do feel like we've received a little present of grace. It's not something that we were owed. We escaped with our lives, our marriage, our sanity. To have our car (at least for now), is a small gift of love we see from the One who led us out of danger in miraculous ways. And tonight we feel very loved about a small detail of life.

Not So Lazy Sunday Afternoon

CNN on TV; Al Jazeera live-stream on the computer; Al Jazeera Live Blog; BBC video reports, multiple Twitter feeds; Reuters on-line, YouTube clips and Skype calls.

All is still well with our friends; my best friend even sustained a grenade thrown into her courtyard with no injuries to her family.

I'm now disassembling the IV line feeding the news directly into my bloodstream. Over and out.

August 22

Our friends are out on the streets celebrating - crying, laughing, cheering. Their neighborhoods have been liberated. It does seem like a definitive end is in sight...

It's a new beginning. There are questions about what tomorrow will be like, but for today there is relief and thanksgiving.

The End?

Things are heating up for our friends and we are concerned. We've still been able to contact friends by phone and are glad to have heard their voices today.

They are asking all of us to pray. And it's all we can do.

The Journey Continues

Nearly four months later, we have finally blogged our evacuation story! Thank you to those following, kindly saying, "We're waiting..."

There is a great deal of healing that went into writing this story down...detail by ever-loving detail. As life has continued since, we are getting a better grip on our current "refugee" situation, and trying to live in the ambiguity of the present.

We are back in the states - and have already driven over 9,000 miles visiting family and friends. For now, our location is Southern California, or "SoCal" if you're cool. And until we can visit with the rest of you, as we say in the Middle East, "We will see you on the good!"