From Tornado to Trampoline: the Miracle Hidden in the Madness

Back in 2020, during lockdown, we were all feeling incredibly isolated. My aging parents, only ten miles away, felt more like ten thousand. They needed more care and attention during that painful time, so they temporarily moved in with my family while we began renovating their home to sell it and find them one closer to us.

I remember walking the streets of my neighborhood each morning, reacquainting myself with neighbors, noticing the stork signs for newborns, the congratulatory banners for high school seniors, and the occasional for sale sign- though not many. People weren’t moving much in that crazy, fluctuating market. Most were hunkered down, frozen in place. Still, I walked and whispered a silent hope: Couldn't one of these homes, any little old cape or ranch, be going on sale? Just one?

I walked daily during that time, savoring the last slivers of freedom, breathing in the spring air, praying for an end to the pandemic that had upended our lives. And then, in August, something wild happened.

A tornado hit our neighborhood in Long Island- no warning, no build-up, just chaos. The wind was so fierce it shook the house. I was upstairs in my home office, tucked into the corner of my bedroom, facing a window that overlooked the garden, when my daughter burst in, yelling that I needed to come downstairs immediately. My heart dropped. I thought something had happened to my parents.

She couldn’t explain, just insisted I follow her. And when I stepped outside, I walked into something that defied logic.

In the middle of our driveway, on top of my red SUV, was a full-sized trampoline. Not ours. It had been picked up by the storm from the yard of a nearby neighbor- not secured to the ground, carried 50 feet through the air, over a six-foot fence, crashed against our siding and roof, and crushed the gate before landing squarely on my car.

Within seconds, neighbors flooded in from every direction. We were all in disbelief, but instinct kicked in. Everyone worked together to stabilize the trampoline, lift it off the car, and take it apart, piece by piece, all while the winds still howled. Miraculously, there was no shattered glass. Just dents, scratches, and missing paint. At the same time, a massive maple tree in that same neighbor’s yard snapped in half and fell onto the other adjacent neighbor’s roof, pulling down live wires that sparked in the street.

It was chaos- branches breaking windows, power lines catching fire. And yet, somehow, no one was hurt. We saw each other that day. We really saw each other. We met our neighbors in a new way- heroes, all of them- and felt the bond of community in crisis.

Now, back to the trampoline.

As the dust settled and repairs began, we had to navigate the aftermath. Insurance deemed it an “Act of God,” so it became a no-fault claim. The neighbor with the trampoline- who’d been right there helping- shared his frustration, exhaustion, and a simple truth: they were done with New York. They were moving back to Miami.

Here's the twist. That neighbor’s house was right next to ours! Technically perpendicular, separated only by a corner home- and it was about to go up for sale. Quietly. Off market. He was a real estate agent. So was my husband. And behind closed doors, under the most surreal of circumstances, negotiations began. A few months later, the deal closed between two neighbors, in good faith, without ever listing the house on the market!

By January, my parents moved in. And by spring, a new chapter of our lives began. We were caregivers now, with love just a few steps away.

But this story isn’t just about luck or tornadoes or trampolines. It was a true miracle. Only God could’ve orchestrated something so specific, so strange, and so perfect- at exactly the right moment. That’s what I mean when I say, “Act of God.” Not just in the insurance paperwork, but in the deepest spiritual sense. It was divine timing. A door we couldn’t have planned or predicted, flung wide open by faith and force.

The kind of faith that whispers, even when your mind can’t see the path: Just keep walking. Just believe. I never could’ve imagined how this would unfold. And yet, in my heart, I had already asked for it. Maybe not in exact words. But I felt what it would mean to have them nearby. I held the hope. I trusted the outcome, even when the “how” was nowhere in sight.

That’s the lesson I want to leave you with.

Sometimes, we’re not meant to know the details of how something will happen. The timing, the path, the logistics- those are up to forces far greater than us. But if we can get clear on what we want and why we want it- and hold that vision with gratitude, even before it arrives- we’re more than halfway there.

Some call it the law of attraction. Others call it manifestation. I call it believing in God, and His ability to know what’s in our hearts- to hear the silent prayers, even the ones we don’t know how to say out loud.

So don’t wait for the "how" to make sense. Just hold onto the "why." Let gratitude guide you. And have faith- even the kind that looks a little crazy from the outside. Because sometimes, what feels impossible is just waiting for a wild wind to carry it home.

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