I’d like to thank Claire for waking us up at 4:30 this morning. No, I’m serious. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to say that I experienced my second earthquake.

Have I got your attention?

The first earthquake I experienced was about a decade ago when Huz and I were in the Philippines*. We were in Manila at a restaurant and all of a sudden the water in our glasses started to slosh. It was like we were dining in a ship at sea. It only lasted a few surreal minutes and I honestly had forgotten all about it until yesterday when I emailed my Mom to ask how her recent trip to San Francisco went. “Fine,” she said, “except I was worried about an earthquake.” I later asked a co-worker if there was some immanent earthquake danger in the San Francisco area and he said that some newspaper said that one should hit sometime before 2037. Leave it to my Mom to worry about it that far in advance.

*We were there on a missions trip – back when we thought we were preachers bringing the good news…yada yada yada.

Then! Irony of ironies! We felt an earthquake this morning! The epicenter was on the Illinois/Indiana/Kentucky border and it was a 5.4 rating. When Claire got me up for her breakfast at 4:30, I wondered out loud, “why are the windows rattling!? Is it raining?” Huz looked out the bedroom window but didn’t say anything. The rattling lasted less than a minute and we went about our business (i.e., him sleeping and me feeding and putting Claire back to bed). I wouldn’t have even thought about it if he hadn’t called me on my way to work to tell me it was an earthquake. I’m still in shock (get it? shock!).