Last winter, Josh and I were sitting in our apartment, watching tv. I was enjoying a cup of hot chocolate, and I noticed that I could hear a smoke alarm going off in another apartment. We had lived in these apartments for 3 years, and we had learned that this was a pretty frequent occurrence. People, including us once or twice I'm sure, would burn cookies or something, and the alarm would go off.
The alarm kept going for several minutes. I started to get concerned, so I set my hot chocolate down, and went out into the hallway to see if I could figure out which apartment it was coming from. After listening and walking around, I realized that it was coming from the apartment below us. I went up and told Josh, and he came out to investigate, too. While I knocked on the door of their apartment, Josh went outside to see if he could see in through the blinds in their window.
Nobody answered. Josh came back in, and told me that he could see the apartment was filled with smoke. I was really concerned then, especially considering it was the apartment right below us. As my adrenaline started pumping, I asked Josh to call 911, as I went around to all of the apartments to alert them that there was a fire in the building. During our 3 years we had lived there, we had only casually met the family above us, and the lady across from us, who no longer lived there. So, it was kind of awkward to knock on everyone's door at 9:00 at night, with a "Hi. I'm Jen, I live in C18. Just wanted to let you know there is a fire in the apartment below us. We are calling the fire department, but you should probably wait in the parking lot. Thanks!"
After everyone was alerted, I went back to our apartment. I got the cats into crates (with Desmond and Moo stuffed into the same one. They had room, but they weren't too happy. We were only allowed to have 2 cats in our apartment, so I thought it would be less suspicious if we came out with two crates instead of 3). Then, I had this strange moment.
It was like everything slowed down for a few seconds. I asked myself if I wanted to get anything else from the apartment. I thought about the laptop, camera, World Race gear, marriage license. Then, as quickly as I thought about those things, I dismissed them. I think I even said out loud, "Okay. Husband, cats. Got everything we need. Let's go."
We put the cats in the car, and as we did, the fire trucks started to pull up. Even though the fire was still contained to one apartment, they brought 3 trucks, and a ton of firefighters. People in the other buildings started to come out to the parking lot, or on their decks to see what the fuss was about.
As we waited, I called my parents to tell them what was going on. We have very good relationships with our parents, and I just wanted to let them know what was going on, even if all they could do was pray and wait for another phone call from me. As a daughter, it is comforting to know that I can always call them, and especially as a verbal processor, it helps me to talk to someone with wisdom and who is removed from the situation, even if it won't change the outcome of the situation.
The firefighters eventually said that it was okay to go back inside. They used a vacuum-like machine to suck all the smoke out of the apartment, and put it outside. It was super loud, and we had to walk right past it to get back inside. The cats were not happy about this. Remember the scene in Christmas Vacation, when Aunt Bethany arrived with her gift-her cat wrapped up in a box. When Clark is handed the box, the cat freaked out inside and the box shook like crazy. I don't remember which crate I was holding, but whoever was inside was acting like Aunt Bethany's cat (with good reason. I'd be terrified, too).
We got back inside, and let the cats out of the crates. The firefighters came in to test if there was any lingering smoke in our apartment, and cleared it. They said that it was a cooking fire, but it was caught in time to not cause much damage.
The family that lived below us had extended family that lived diagonally across the hall from them, so I'm guessing that they started cooking something, went to hang out with their family in the other apartment, and forgot about the food.
This was my first and only (so far) experience with a home fire. It is interesting what we can learn about ourselves from stressful situations. In our marriage, I have always been more of the do-er and the delegator, which sometimes frustrated me. I had always been taught in church that my job as a woman and a wife was to be submissive (which, unpacking how I feel about that is another blog for another day). So, it was always a source of frustration for me that I was always taking charge, and that it must be wrong of me to do that. But, I have learned that it is a good combination for our personalities. Josh is so laid back, that sometimes he needs clear and specific directions. And I can sometimes have a stronger personality when it comes to things like this. I see what needs to be done, and how to get to that point. Then I delegate tasks to get there. In a situation like this, it is the perfect combination. Quick action needed to be taken, but it couldn't have all been done by the leader.
I also learned where I stand with material things. I would say that I am as materialistic as the next American girl in her mid-twenties, but I do work towards not placing emotional value or worth in things. In that moment when I had to decide if I needed to grab anything else before going to the parking lot for safety, I realized that it is the people, and pets, that you care about that matter. Well, duh. Of course they do. But it was just one of those things that you never know how you are going to react until you are in that situation, and you learn something about yourself through it.
Many people have thought that we are naive and crazy for not even selling our possessions, but giving them away for free. Our situation turned out that we were moving out of our apartment at the end of February, and I don't know many people that go garage saleing in winter. We also didn't have a facility to do an indoor sale, so we decided to give away our extra stuff. We had a few people come over to pick out what they wanted, and the rest went to the thrift store.
I was reading in Acts 2, and I came to this passage at the end of the chapter. Peter and the apostles are preaching to a crowd, and through this, 3,000 people become believers. " 44 And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. 45 They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. 46 They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity". There are many other passages that deal with selling your possessions, but this one particularly impacted me, because it talks about the joy and generosity that came from it.
It is not fun to feel like you are burdening someone with anything, let alone your stuff. I feel like we have taken every extra storage space that is available at Josh's parents' house, even with our extremely downsized amount. It is also not fun to be in another country, and to run out of money (which happened in Thailand), which would undoubtedly happen if we were to get a storage unit for our stuff.
So, we just decided that since our stuff and what to do with it was a source of stress, we would rather give it to someone who needs it and can use it, and be joyful that we don't have to worry about it. For us, it has given us a chance to clear our heads and hearts, so we have room for other things. They can only hold so much. 😉
