Its OK to Fight
My wife and I break our marriage timeline into two phases: Pre-Tornado and Post-Tornado. If you are close to us, then you have most likely heard us use these terms in conversation. The tornado on May 24, 2016 was meant to end us. I am speaking both metaphorically and literal as my wife and son’s lives were miraculously spared. I am writing this series to turn the tide on years of rebuilding after a very dark season for us. We do not want to black out years of our lives just because they were difficult. We lived those years. They mean something to us, and they are going to be used to help others strengthen their lives, marriages, and families. Shortly after the tornado, and the season preceding, my wife and I decided that one day I would write about it in the hopes of helping other couples. If you are just joining this series, then please go back and start here:
How to Survive a Tornado: Lesson 1, 9 Minutes
The Moments Following Our Disconnected Phone Call
As the living room and kitchen windows shattered, Leslie had already grabbed Zane and safely made it to one of the bathrooms. The following day we would realize that the windows shattered from a collision with our commercial sized metal dumpster. It flew 300 feet through the air to slam against the front of the house. This was the not-so-subtle warning to Leslie that the storm had arrived. She had been watching the news for updates on the storm. The storm was supposed to miss us to the north. Although we have some of the best meteorologist in the nation in our state, you cannot always predict the wicked change of directions these storms are going to take. Before this moment, the sky was calm and the normal pre-warning signs were not present. Our home was an L-shape, and we had a bathroom on both wings. Both bathrooms were insulated from the outside walls by bedrooms and closets. She had to quickly decide which one she was going to take our two-year-old son to. Thank you, Lord!…she chose the right one. She had no clue that the west side of the house was taking the brunt of the storm when she scooped up Zane. She slammed the door and sat in the middle of the bathroom wrapping Zane in her arms. As best she could, she shielded his body and began to sing to him. As glass and debris swirled through our home and the roof over the west end was now gone, she sang the old hymn, “It Is Well With My Soul.”
As she sang these verses over and over, shards of glass began piercing the dry wall. Debris was slamming against the door and the walls. She embraced Zane tighter and tried her best to completely envelop him with her body. Moments later, there was a calm. She left the bathroom and was going to try and make her way to the cellar again. She opened the front door this time and told Zane to wrap his arms around her neck and his legs around her body and squeeze as tight as he could. She then carefully crawled, weaving her way through the mangled mess of full trees that were intertwined and completely wrapped around the entire house. She finally made it through and started toward the cellar. She sat Zane down and began removing debris from the cellar door. She grabbed Zane and headed down. The following day, as Leslie told me this story, I saw the bathroom walls with what looked like bullet holes where glass and debris had shot through. There were even large shards of glass sticking out both sides of the drywall.
I still cannot explain the disconnected phone call and why the phone made such a terrifyingly dramatic tone, but these are the nine minutes of events before I finally got the text that she and Zane were ok. Moments later she came out of the cellar to see the massive destruction to our property and home.
“I needed to visually see and physically touch my wife.”
It took us over two hours to get home. That is longer than my normal drive, but my brother and I drove directly through the middle of the same storm that hit my property. It was so bad that we had to stop, along with every other car on the highway, and wait for the tornado to pass directly over us. We reached in the backseat and grabbed our hard hats. At one point, I asked my brother if he was ready to meet our Lord. We knew we were going to drive through the middle of the storm on our way home. The alternate route was going to take much longer, but I needed to visually see and physically touch my wife. The text was not enough to assure me that she was alright.
As we made our way through town, we saw that fire department trucks were barricading the entrance to the highway that would take us the 3 ½ miles toward my home. They were trying to keep all vehicles off the highway to allow emergency crews and heavy equipment a quick pathway toward the area surrounding my property. My brother pulled right up to the firemen, and I jumped out of the truck. I opened my mouth to speak but before I said a word, they recognized me. One fireman yelled to another, “Hey! Move that truck and get him through there!” When we finally made it to the county road where I lived, there was a sheriff blocking that entrance. This time my brother did not stop. He pointed the truck toward the ditch as the sheriff got out and threw his hands up to stop him. My brother did not pay any attention as he just hit the gas going around the sheriff through the ditch. We made it only a few hundred feet as we came to yet another roadblock. Several emergency vehicles were on the road with heavy equipment trying to clear trees and debris to open the roadway. Before the truck came to a stop, I leapt out and sprinted the additional quarter of a mile toward my home, dodging bulldozers, emergency vehicles, downed trees, and utility poles.
I will never forget the view as I turned the corner toward my driveway. I have two perspectives from this view. One I will cover in another lesson. This first perspective was one of destruction and devastation. My property was unrecognizable. I could not see my house. Where my house was supposed to be looked like a bulldozed pile of trees. The reality is most of my house was still standing but so many trees that were uprooted found a resting place wrapped up around and piled on my house. I did not care about any of that. My eyes looked through all of that as I scanned for my wife. I ran down the driveway to the back of the house, then around to the other side. There she was, standing in the middle of the yard just taking it all in. I ran to her. We hugged for a very long time.
The Lesson
The lesson that I learned begins with the moment that hug ended. As I explained from Lesson 1, my brain was already operating in extreme survival mode long before the tornado hit, 19 months to be exact. During those months, my wife had been one heck of a team player. She understood and supported the, at times, unbelievable load that my leadership duties had required. She saw the constant weight and stress I was carrying, not just for us, but for many others. She had been great. But this was her time now. This was supposed to be her turn to have me. Not a portion of me, but all of me. I did not realize it at the time, but all she really needed was for me to give her one night.
Our good friends, the Browns, came and got Zane before I even made it home. Leslie told me that the plan was for me to meet her there later to stay the night in their guest room. I told her I would but that it was going to be a late night as I needed my brother to take me to get my truck which was left in another town. She begged me to wait until tomorrow to do that. I told her that I could not. We had people coming in the morning volunteering to help us clean up. Most of these people were taking personal days from their jobs to help. I needed my truck that night so that I could be there to meet everyone who would come. Again, she begged. Again, I said, “I’m sorry but I will meet you at the Browns late tonight.”
Was I wrong?
Technically, no, I was not wrong. Unfortunately, “technically” is not one of the essential building blocks of a strong marriage. I did not care about anything else in the world other than knowing my wife and boys were ok. Once I saw and touched my wife through that long embrace, my brain immediately left the emotional phase and went right back into leadership and survival mode. I was putting together a plan of action. That is what my family needed, right? A strong, stoic warrior, unphased from destruction. Over the next several days and months, I would perceivably play that role almost to perfection. And I was doing that for my wife and family because that is what they needed from their MAN. They needed me to clean up this mess.
The truth is that I missed the mark in that moment after our hug. I would gladly entertain a ride with Marty McFly in the DeLorean back to, let’s say, around MAY 24 2016 17:00. My wife had just been through the most traumatic event of her entire life. It was bad enough that her own life flashed before her eyes, but that does not compare with your child’s life being threatened. There was a real moment when she thought they were about to die. I messed up that night. I should have left the stupid truck alone. I should have asked my brother to take me to my truck early in the morning. This event was traumatic to more than just my family. The events that unfolded on us affected many others around us. My brother’s wife and family were only a couple of miles away as the tornado was wreaking havoc and she needed him home that night with his family also. My need for my truck and my brother’s willingness to be there for me caused hurt at his home as well.
I promised my wife that I would meet her at the Brown’s later that night. She needed, and more importantly, deserved for me to hold her all night. I had every intention of doing that, but that is not what happened.
Late that night another storm rolled in. The storm was one of the most violent and massive thunderstorms I have ever seen. To add insult to injury, it dumped a substantial amount of rain on top of the mess that we already had in front of us. Now we would be starting the cleanup the next day in the mud trying to salvage items that made it through the tornado then through being completely soaked. The storm also made that evening later for me than anticipated. The wind, rain and hail caused us, my brother and I, to drive about 20 mph down the highway the whole way there and back. By the time I made it back with my truck it was around 1 am. I pulled up to the Brown’s drive and tried to put in the gate code. The box had no electricity. The storm had knocked out their power. They did not realize it because the backup generator kicked in immediately. Unfortunately, it did not power the gate. I called Leslie and she ran down the long drive, in the rain, trying to persuade me to leave my truck right there, hop the fence, and come inside. Bless her heart as she gave all she had to get her, then clueless, husband to come hold her. I was in no place mentally to see the obvious clues. I told her I was sorry but that I was not going to leave my truck by the highway overnight, also blocking the gate. I knew they had an early morning and had employees that may need in. At this point, I had no confidence that I would wake up to an early alarm to get up and move my truck. I looked at Leslie and said, “I am very sorry, Babe, but I’m going to sneak into my Grandma’s and get some sleep there.”
Every bit of this made complete and rational sense to me. This was the most efficient plan of action. I could make this work without inconveniencing anyone.
The following day, my family checked into a hotel in another town as I began the cleanup process. We all slept there that night, then I got up early again to make the 45-minute drive back to our property to keep working. We had volunteer help for several days.
I Married A Fighter
The tornado was on a Tuesday and by Friday everything in our lives was turned upside down. We spent the last two days together dealing with complete destruction in our home and now our marriage relationship was looking very similar. We would eat a late-night fast-food dinner then crash in the hotel bed just to wake up early and head back to our property, separately. By Friday morning, Leslie had enough. I woke up and immediately began working in my new hotel make-shift office. I had to work on my company’s finances and cut payroll checks. She had gone the last 19 months with something besides my family requiring my immediate attention. Now, my focus was shifted to a brand-new crisis. She needed my help that morning. I told her I could not because I had someone driving to the hotel to get their paycheck and I needed to have it ready. I do not remember what was said as we began arguing, but I will always remember what happened next.
Leslie walked up to me and punched me. We were standing face to face, and she just reared back and hit me right in the chest. She landed her fist right on the left side of my chest over my heart. I just stood there. She reset then hit me in the same spot. She repeated this about 5 times, each time with more force and frustration. With each blow I could see anger leaving her body. It felt good to her. I never moved. I just took it. She needed to hit me, and I needed to be hit. This is not sound marital advice here, and as odd as it may sound, her hitting me is exactly what I needed. It felt great. Of course, her anger was being released, but with every blow she connected, there was a release of stress, pressure, and anxiety that was leaving my body as well. I already felt like I was life’s punching bag, so I was pleased that I could at least be there for her in that way also. Again, you are not going to be prescribed this plan of action from your marriage counselor or pastor, but this was the best we had at the time. That moment was the most physical and emotional connection we had in a while.
As she ended her final strike to my chest, I saw Leslie’s shoulders drop; the outward sign of someone getting everything out. When I worked as a high school principal, I used to wait until I saw this sign from an upset parent in my office. I always sat quietly while they ripped me looking them in the eye. When they got everything out that they had rehearsed in the car ride over, their shoulders would drop. At that moment I would begin speaking. They would listen to whatever I had to say, even if it is not what they wanted to hear, because I first let them get it all out. When I saw that Leslie got it all out, I relaxed my body as well. She immediately began apologizing. I did not say anything, I just grabbed my things and left. Later that day Leslie sent me a text that our friends Jeff and Erin were coming to our hotel that evening to watch the boys while we went to dinner. They knew nothing of what happened that morning. They were just that in tune as great friends that they figured we could probably use some alone time together. Little did they know how right they were.
When I got home (to the hotel), I immediately began getting cleaned up. Leslie and I did not say a word. When our friends arrived, we walked down to the car and drove thirty seconds to the closest restaurant. I did not want to go far as I had no idea how this date was going to go. The hostess seated us outside and I do not remember saying anything to each other. What I do remember is the waitress asking us what we wanted to drink. I quickly said, “I need a Coors Light.” She said, “What size? Would you like to try our 32oz mug?” I looked up at her and said, “Bring me two of those!”
At one point, well into my 2nd mug, I glanced at Leslie. She was just looking down at the table. I said, “Hey.” She looked up at me. I continued, “We really need to work on your punching.” She burst out laughing and so did I. We ended up having a great time that evening. It was the first real conversation that we had since before the tornado. I wish I could say that everything was great from there, but those two years of constant stress and strain did damage that would take quite a while to fully get through. We both came out of that situation with some major hurt from each other. Today, I can confidently say that we have a much stronger and joyful marriage because we made the decision to honor one another no matter what life threw at us. We have too much invested in each other and our family to not give everything we have in this relationship. Plus, were both too stubborn to let the devil win.
You Cannot Save the World If Your Foundation is Crumbling
One of my former pastors used to always say, “The stronger the foundation, the further the reach.” I wanted to save the world, but what I did not see was that my foundation was weakening. I was helping everyone else around me while neglecting my much-needed support system. As a Christian man, I know that God must come before all else. When He is number one, I then have the potential to be the best possible version of myself in all other relationships. As a married man, my relationship with my wife must be the very next priority. Since the tornado, I have had no problem telling people no. Other than running our business, I have stepped back from many leadership opportunities over the last few years. I have said no to a lot of very good things. I have been very hesitant to commit myself to roles until I knew that my foundation was restored. And, not only restored, but with systems in place to keep it always growing and strengthening.
I have learned that the greatest way for me to connect with people is to be real and authentic. This is the reason I created this platform, to do just that. After posting the first in this series How to Survive a Tornado Lesson 1: Nine Minutes, it confirmed to me people’s desire for real stories. We all need to hear that we are not the only ones struggling and more importantly, we can make it through those struggles. If someone else has, then, I can too.
There is a Difference in “Fighting With” and “Fighting For”
I married a fighter. So did she. As I found out that day, she is not that great of a physical fighter, but she is determined to fight for her man. Here is the real message I saw as she was hitting me that Friday morning: she was not fighting with me, she was fighting for our marriage. I am blessed to have a wife that is willing to fight that hard for me. Years ago, a good friend enthusiastically told me, “My wife and I have never had a fight.” I felt sorry for him. The only thing I heard was there is no passion in that marriage. When two passionate people do life together, those passions will collide every now and then. When they do, remember, it is ok to fight…if you are “fighting for,” not “fighting with.”
