Monday, November 21, 2005
Apologies
I apologies for being so far behind on my posts. I am writing them, and I want to post them in sequential order (which I am not writing them in). They are coming! I will back-date them when I post them.
Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for your patience.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Angels
After Church, someone on church staff shared the story of what happened to a parishioner at Christus Victor.
There are so many stories.
A woman asked the staff member if he would go in her house and find three things for her – her daughter’s purse (it had about $500 in it, that they withdrew to get along after the hurricane), her husband’s wedding ring, her husband's watch, and her Father-in-law's pectoral cross. Her Father in law had been a pastor. The staff member explained that her roof was precariously held up by two boards, and like the game “pick up sticks,” someone could pick up a board and the whole thing would shift and crush everyone. He apologized.
The woman prayed.
After they bulldozed the property and hauled everything off, she returned to her property.
The daughter’s purse was hanging in a tree. Another of the four items was lying beside the road, intact, where they had loaded the rubble in the truck; it apparently had fallen out. She also found the pastor's cross.
Her husband’s ring was still in the case when she found it, undamaged.
She found all four of the items that she had prayed to find.
Can’t you just imagine angels saying, “OK, you need what? A wedding ring? Let’s save that over here.” And then, when the woman arrived, them saying to her, “Hey, come look over here.”
And, this is only one story. You hear so many stories that the veterans (those who have been here a week or so,) will say, “Ah, yes, another story.” And move on.
The miraculous is as widespread as the destruction. And the destruction only happened in 10 hours; the miraculous has been happening for 3 months and counting.
There are so many stories.
A woman asked the staff member if he would go in her house and find three things for her – her daughter’s purse (it had about $500 in it, that they withdrew to get along after the hurricane), her husband’s wedding ring, her husband's watch, and her Father-in-law's pectoral cross. Her Father in law had been a pastor. The staff member explained that her roof was precariously held up by two boards, and like the game “pick up sticks,” someone could pick up a board and the whole thing would shift and crush everyone. He apologized.
The woman prayed.
After they bulldozed the property and hauled everything off, she returned to her property.
The daughter’s purse was hanging in a tree. Another of the four items was lying beside the road, intact, where they had loaded the rubble in the truck; it apparently had fallen out. She also found the pastor's cross.
Her husband’s ring was still in the case when she found it, undamaged.
She found all four of the items that she had prayed to find.
Can’t you just imagine angels saying, “OK, you need what? A wedding ring? Let’s save that over here.” And then, when the woman arrived, them saying to her, “Hey, come look over here.”
And, this is only one story. You hear so many stories that the veterans (those who have been here a week or so,) will say, “Ah, yes, another story.” And move on.
The miraculous is as widespread as the destruction. And the destruction only happened in 10 hours; the miraculous has been happening for 3 months and counting.
“The Least of these…you did for me.”
31“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. 34“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ 37“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ 40“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ 41“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ 44“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ 45“He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ 46“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.” Matthew 25:31-46
A congregation arrived last night with the Matthew 25:31-46 scripture citation on their T-Shirts. All of them had the Scripture silk screened on their bright red T-Shirts. Ironically, that was also the Gospel Text for Sunday. Someone in the kitchen asked me what that text was about on Saturday night, and I looked it up and said something like, “angels in the throne room, yada yada, sheeps and goats, yada yada, oh, that’s the text about ‘when you did this to the least of these you did it to me.’” They replied that they were familiar with the text, and that it was pretty appropriate.
Then, I went to church on Sunday. I wasn’t expecting what happened to me there.
As the Interim Pastor read the Good News, the things Jesus said pounded me and my Spirit like waves on the seashore.
For I was hungry… and you gave me something to eat,
I was thirsty…and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger…and you invited me in,
I needed clothes…and you clothed me,
Jesus talked about this three different times in this passage. It kept driving into me. I couldn’t stop crying.
I kept seeing the people that I had seen this week. People who were hungry for food. People who were hungry for love. People who were hungry for someone to hear their story, and maybe verify that they weren’t crazy. People asking for someone to give them something to drink. We gave one women three cases of bottled water because she had a skin condition and needed extra water—it was what she used to bathe in. One woman came and asked for woman’s pants, because her sister didn’t have any clothes, just three shirts that fit her but only one pair of pants. THIS WAS THREE MONTHS AFTER THE STORM!!!!!
I couldn’t stop it. It came out. I don’t cry often. I am even having to fight back the tears as I write this.
Jesus said that I gave him something to eat and drink, and that I visited him this week. Christ the King, in a hurricane-ravaged landscape,. Jesus identifying with those who have lost everything, through what he suffered in his coronation ceremony, the crucifixion.
Jesus, ministering to me, as I see the pain, and hear people tell stories of how God has ministered to them during and since the storm. Again, you come thinking that you are coming to help and be the hands of Christ for others, and you realize that they helped you, because they are Jesus.
There’s an old campfire song that goes, “Have you seen Jesus my Lord? He’s waiting for you.”
Now, I can honestly say, “yes.” And, I am forever changed.
A congregation arrived last night with the Matthew 25:31-46 scripture citation on their T-Shirts. All of them had the Scripture silk screened on their bright red T-Shirts. Ironically, that was also the Gospel Text for Sunday. Someone in the kitchen asked me what that text was about on Saturday night, and I looked it up and said something like, “angels in the throne room, yada yada, sheeps and goats, yada yada, oh, that’s the text about ‘when you did this to the least of these you did it to me.’” They replied that they were familiar with the text, and that it was pretty appropriate.
Then, I went to church on Sunday. I wasn’t expecting what happened to me there.
As the Interim Pastor read the Good News, the things Jesus said pounded me and my Spirit like waves on the seashore.
For I was hungry… and you gave me something to eat,
I was thirsty…and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger…and you invited me in,
I needed clothes…and you clothed me,
Jesus talked about this three different times in this passage. It kept driving into me. I couldn’t stop crying.
I kept seeing the people that I had seen this week. People who were hungry for food. People who were hungry for love. People who were hungry for someone to hear their story, and maybe verify that they weren’t crazy. People asking for someone to give them something to drink. We gave one women three cases of bottled water because she had a skin condition and needed extra water—it was what she used to bathe in. One woman came and asked for woman’s pants, because her sister didn’t have any clothes, just three shirts that fit her but only one pair of pants. THIS WAS THREE MONTHS AFTER THE STORM!!!!!
I couldn’t stop it. It came out. I don’t cry often. I am even having to fight back the tears as I write this.
Jesus said that I gave him something to eat and drink, and that I visited him this week. Christ the King, in a hurricane-ravaged landscape,. Jesus identifying with those who have lost everything, through what he suffered in his coronation ceremony, the crucifixion.
Jesus, ministering to me, as I see the pain, and hear people tell stories of how God has ministered to them during and since the storm. Again, you come thinking that you are coming to help and be the hands of Christ for others, and you realize that they helped you, because they are Jesus.
There’s an old campfire song that goes, “Have you seen Jesus my Lord? He’s waiting for you.”
Now, I can honestly say, “yes.” And, I am forever changed.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
We came on different ships, but now we’re all in the same boat.
Today, we “worked the line.” The “line” is the distribution line, where we hand out boxes of food that will feed a family of four for three days, hygiene products (shampoo, soap, etc.), feminine products, baby products, cleaning products, disposable tableware, sheets/blankets, and anything else that we have that people might want. We even gave out baby car seats and toys for children.
It’s getting cold, and they need sheets and blankets. Especially queen size ones, because they fit the FEMA trailers’ beds.
Anyway, I served as the “Caller,” and I was responsible for taking the checklists out from under the windshield wipers to call out what items the people needed.
Although we were getting physical items to meet physical needs, it was also an excuse to engage people in “pastoral conversation” to minister to them spiritually. Ministry is the number one priority around here, and that means both spiritual and physical ministry.
Some of the contacts were a mixed bag. One woman came through with a van that had separate sheets over each of the seats in her van; at least 6 or 7 sheets in all. She said she needed sheets for her bed. (With tongue in cheek, I wondered if she had another vehicle). At any rate, she shared that since Katrina, she was deathly afraid of any storms that came through the area since the storm. She was clearly troubled. She had lost her best friend to the storm in Biloxi. We gave her the sheets.
Other contacts were opportunities for further ministry. One woman, with her children and a handkerchief on her head, could barely keep her eyes open. I talked to her for a minute, and found out that she was so tired because they were mucking out their house as a family. I referred her to the case workers, and told her that we could help. That way, she could focus her energy on rebuilding.
There were nice cars, “beater cars,” and everything in between. The common thread – they all had lost everything and had no where else to turn.
One woman through the line shared the fact that her good friend’s brother had committed suicide two weeks ago. We figured out that I had an appointment to talk with her friend on Monday. We talked for awhile, and when she accompanied her friend to the church on Monday, we had already established a relationship for ministry to happen. In the line, we make connections and establish relationships.
One woman and her mother were looking for items to take care of her three-month-old baby. When she told me that, I stopped and calculated for a moment, doing the math. “Was she born before the storm,” I asked. “Yes, she was two weeks old and we floated her on an air mattress in our house when the flood came.”
I had to process that one for a minute. I know we are supposed to be pastoral and focused and everything, but I had to ponder that one before I could respond.
“Don’t doctors tell you not to have kids that age around other people, because of the risk of getting sick?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Isn’t that kind of dirty, floating a two-week old child on an air mattress in flood waters?”
“Yes,” she said again. “We went into the attic when it got higher.” She then told me the whole story about the flood waters and her house and her baby.
Recovering my pastoral bearing, I told her that her story sounded quite like the story of Moses, when his mother put him in the pitch basket and floated him to safety. She thought for a minute, and said, “Yes, I like that. I hadn’t thought of that! Thanks!”
Around here, you don’t have to be a pastor to be in ministry. Everyone provides pastoral care, whether they are lay or clergy.
One person who came here two months ago to volunteer for a week and couldn’t leave (and there are several people like that here) shared a story of how he ministered to someone. This person had come through the distribution line, and he struck up a conversation with him. The man shared that he was at his breaking point. The worker realized that this was probably the real reason that the man came for help, and that he probably needed someone to talk with. So, the worker engaged the man in conversation. After some time of excellent ministry, the man seemed much less agitated, and said to the worker, “Well, I was at my breaking point, and you have helped move that breaking point a little bit farther down the road. Thank you.”
It’s just stuff. On the distribution line, however, it becomes an opportunity for God’s grace to enter in.
It’s getting cold, and they need sheets and blankets. Especially queen size ones, because they fit the FEMA trailers’ beds.
Anyway, I served as the “Caller,” and I was responsible for taking the checklists out from under the windshield wipers to call out what items the people needed.
Although we were getting physical items to meet physical needs, it was also an excuse to engage people in “pastoral conversation” to minister to them spiritually. Ministry is the number one priority around here, and that means both spiritual and physical ministry.
Some of the contacts were a mixed bag. One woman came through with a van that had separate sheets over each of the seats in her van; at least 6 or 7 sheets in all. She said she needed sheets for her bed. (With tongue in cheek, I wondered if she had another vehicle). At any rate, she shared that since Katrina, she was deathly afraid of any storms that came through the area since the storm. She was clearly troubled. She had lost her best friend to the storm in Biloxi. We gave her the sheets.
Other contacts were opportunities for further ministry. One woman, with her children and a handkerchief on her head, could barely keep her eyes open. I talked to her for a minute, and found out that she was so tired because they were mucking out their house as a family. I referred her to the case workers, and told her that we could help. That way, she could focus her energy on rebuilding.
There were nice cars, “beater cars,” and everything in between. The common thread – they all had lost everything and had no where else to turn.
One woman through the line shared the fact that her good friend’s brother had committed suicide two weeks ago. We figured out that I had an appointment to talk with her friend on Monday. We talked for awhile, and when she accompanied her friend to the church on Monday, we had already established a relationship for ministry to happen. In the line, we make connections and establish relationships.
One woman and her mother were looking for items to take care of her three-month-old baby. When she told me that, I stopped and calculated for a moment, doing the math. “Was she born before the storm,” I asked. “Yes, she was two weeks old and we floated her on an air mattress in our house when the flood came.”
I had to process that one for a minute. I know we are supposed to be pastoral and focused and everything, but I had to ponder that one before I could respond.
“Don’t doctors tell you not to have kids that age around other people, because of the risk of getting sick?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Isn’t that kind of dirty, floating a two-week old child on an air mattress in flood waters?”
“Yes,” she said again. “We went into the attic when it got higher.” She then told me the whole story about the flood waters and her house and her baby.
Recovering my pastoral bearing, I told her that her story sounded quite like the story of Moses, when his mother put him in the pitch basket and floated him to safety. She thought for a minute, and said, “Yes, I like that. I hadn’t thought of that! Thanks!”
Around here, you don’t have to be a pastor to be in ministry. Everyone provides pastoral care, whether they are lay or clergy.
One person who came here two months ago to volunteer for a week and couldn’t leave (and there are several people like that here) shared a story of how he ministered to someone. This person had come through the distribution line, and he struck up a conversation with him. The man shared that he was at his breaking point. The worker realized that this was probably the real reason that the man came for help, and that he probably needed someone to talk with. So, the worker engaged the man in conversation. After some time of excellent ministry, the man seemed much less agitated, and said to the worker, “Well, I was at my breaking point, and you have helped move that breaking point a little bit farther down the road. Thank you.”
It’s just stuff. On the distribution line, however, it becomes an opportunity for God’s grace to enter in.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Bridges
Man, I am tired, physically, emotionally and spritually. And I'm not even one of the ones pulling down drywall and nails, and hauling it out to the curb. Even so, I think of those who have been living in this area and fighting this fight since August, and I can't imagine how tired of all of this they must be.
And, in the midst of that, God is at work to bridge divides like class and racial ones that otherwise seem insurmountable.
Take, for example, Myra (not her name). Myra is African American, and has a beautiful French-Cajun accent. We visited her in front of her house in her FEMA trailer. She just got into it; they finally got it all hooked up to power, water and sewer so she could live in it. Her tiny trailer was immaculate and even decorated with curtains, table accents, and flowers on the TV that all matched in color. Seriously, it looked better than Martha Stewart could ever have done with a FEMA trailer.
Myra explained that she and her husband had purchased the house around ten years ago. They worked for hours and hours to fix it up, over they years. They redid the entire interior. I mentioned that her trailor was beautifully decorated, and she said, "Yes, and imagine how my house looked!" From what I saw, it must have been amazing.
This was their dream house. The kids had recently left, and retirement was coming soon. The Golden Years were just around the corner. And her husband suddenly died from the Flu in June. The Flu, of all things! Hurricane Katrina caused a small 4 foot wide creek to rise a dozen feet and take their house two month later. She lives five miles from the coast of the bay!
I remember when my grandpa died, my grandma couldn't open his closet for a year to even begin to consider getting rid of his clothes. I can't imagine what would have happened to her if she lost her home.
The crews were taking out the bottom half of the walls (to clean the studs from mold) because she didn't want to take out the top, even though it needed to be taken out because water had hit it too. I think it was because she was clinging to as much of her husband as she could. Even so, it all had to come out, all the way up to the roof.
All we saw was someone who needed help, love and compassion. All she saw was someone who was coming to help in Christ's name. Class and race didn't matter. Would it have been any different, had we met with all other things being equal? I would think so.
Then again, there is Terry (not his name either). He lived in a "house" built in the back yard of his sister's house in the "inner city" of Biloxi. His house was the size of a one car garage. Terry is African American. He did contract work, and lost all of his tools to the flooding. Terry is slowly buying replacement tools as he works in restoring one of the casinos, and hopes to soon garner enough tools to be able to answer some of the many requests he has had from residents of his neighborhood to help rebuild.
Terry also had $2000 or more worth of dance DJ equipment and music. He had hundreds and hundreds of comic books, several of them "number 1" editions, including Spiderman, Batman and Superman.
Katrina took all of that from him.
Even so, Terry was not bitter. He didn't blame anyone. Terry was thankful for the Christus Victor work crew, and was working to put his life together. And Terry made an inspiring comment, that I will do my best to quote. Out of nowhere, Terry, said, "And this storm was a great equalizer. In my neighborhood, which had a lot of drugs in it and was pretty rough before the hurricane, there aren't black or white people, rich or poor any more. We all got done in by Katrina and we are all in this together."
Wow.
I shared a story that Tony, on Christus Victor's staff (I have permission to share this) shared with me about her well-to-do brother, who is a lawyer. I told Terry that I had heard about a lawyer with a $500,000 house who lost it all in the hurricane. He nodded in agreement as I shared the story. I told him that even though his house was worth $500,000, with his income, it was similar to someone else who lost a $50,000 house. To my surprise, Terry nodded in agreement and said, "That's right!" From the look on his face, I could see true understanding and compassion for this lawyer. I then told Terry that this man had an extensive rare art collection that was stolen by looters on two occasions. One of those times, it was stolen by the National Guard troops, and this dispicable act of thievary was caught on film by a neighbor.
Terry said, with a knowing smile, "I know what that is like." He then said that he had remained behind to protect his stuff during the storm, and that now it is gone in spite of his efforts to save it. From now on, he will leave even if it is a category 1 storm.
The bottom line for me is this: without Katrina, we would never have had this conversation. Myra would have walked right by me. Terry would have looked at the ground and kept to his business. I would have looked past either one of them. The work crews would never have gone to these neighborhoods.
Yet God used this tragedy to bridge divides, make connections and relationships, and heal divisions that have been in places for hundreds of years. I pray that we have both gained an appreciation and respect for one another, one that is based on our mutual humanity and worth in God's eyes, and that will not see human divisions like class and race.
Only God can bring something this good from something this bad.
And, these are only two stories!!!!
And, in the midst of that, God is at work to bridge divides like class and racial ones that otherwise seem insurmountable.
Take, for example, Myra (not her name). Myra is African American, and has a beautiful French-Cajun accent. We visited her in front of her house in her FEMA trailer. She just got into it; they finally got it all hooked up to power, water and sewer so she could live in it. Her tiny trailer was immaculate and even decorated with curtains, table accents, and flowers on the TV that all matched in color. Seriously, it looked better than Martha Stewart could ever have done with a FEMA trailer.
Myra explained that she and her husband had purchased the house around ten years ago. They worked for hours and hours to fix it up, over they years. They redid the entire interior. I mentioned that her trailor was beautifully decorated, and she said, "Yes, and imagine how my house looked!" From what I saw, it must have been amazing.
This was their dream house. The kids had recently left, and retirement was coming soon. The Golden Years were just around the corner. And her husband suddenly died from the Flu in June. The Flu, of all things! Hurricane Katrina caused a small 4 foot wide creek to rise a dozen feet and take their house two month later. She lives five miles from the coast of the bay!
I remember when my grandpa died, my grandma couldn't open his closet for a year to even begin to consider getting rid of his clothes. I can't imagine what would have happened to her if she lost her home.
The crews were taking out the bottom half of the walls (to clean the studs from mold) because she didn't want to take out the top, even though it needed to be taken out because water had hit it too. I think it was because she was clinging to as much of her husband as she could. Even so, it all had to come out, all the way up to the roof.
All we saw was someone who needed help, love and compassion. All she saw was someone who was coming to help in Christ's name. Class and race didn't matter. Would it have been any different, had we met with all other things being equal? I would think so.
Then again, there is Terry (not his name either). He lived in a "house" built in the back yard of his sister's house in the "inner city" of Biloxi. His house was the size of a one car garage. Terry is African American. He did contract work, and lost all of his tools to the flooding. Terry is slowly buying replacement tools as he works in restoring one of the casinos, and hopes to soon garner enough tools to be able to answer some of the many requests he has had from residents of his neighborhood to help rebuild.
Terry also had $2000 or more worth of dance DJ equipment and music. He had hundreds and hundreds of comic books, several of them "number 1" editions, including Spiderman, Batman and Superman.
Katrina took all of that from him.
Even so, Terry was not bitter. He didn't blame anyone. Terry was thankful for the Christus Victor work crew, and was working to put his life together. And Terry made an inspiring comment, that I will do my best to quote. Out of nowhere, Terry, said, "And this storm was a great equalizer. In my neighborhood, which had a lot of drugs in it and was pretty rough before the hurricane, there aren't black or white people, rich or poor any more. We all got done in by Katrina and we are all in this together."
Wow.
I shared a story that Tony, on Christus Victor's staff (I have permission to share this) shared with me about her well-to-do brother, who is a lawyer. I told Terry that I had heard about a lawyer with a $500,000 house who lost it all in the hurricane. He nodded in agreement as I shared the story. I told him that even though his house was worth $500,000, with his income, it was similar to someone else who lost a $50,000 house. To my surprise, Terry nodded in agreement and said, "That's right!" From the look on his face, I could see true understanding and compassion for this lawyer. I then told Terry that this man had an extensive rare art collection that was stolen by looters on two occasions. One of those times, it was stolen by the National Guard troops, and this dispicable act of thievary was caught on film by a neighbor.
Terry said, with a knowing smile, "I know what that is like." He then said that he had remained behind to protect his stuff during the storm, and that now it is gone in spite of his efforts to save it. From now on, he will leave even if it is a category 1 storm.
The bottom line for me is this: without Katrina, we would never have had this conversation. Myra would have walked right by me. Terry would have looked at the ground and kept to his business. I would have looked past either one of them. The work crews would never have gone to these neighborhoods.
Yet God used this tragedy to bridge divides, make connections and relationships, and heal divisions that have been in places for hundreds of years. I pray that we have both gained an appreciation and respect for one another, one that is based on our mutual humanity and worth in God's eyes, and that will not see human divisions like class and race.
Only God can bring something this good from something this bad.
And, these are only two stories!!!!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Karoline Blog 3
Well, we've arrived safely back in Nashville. The girls are getting ready to go to bed to be ready for All Tennessee tomorrow. Kari and I will drive to Morristown in the morning. I told Pastor last night how much I hated to leave. I felt wrenched away. There is so much need there...for months and months and years and years. I think I may go back the first week of January. I left about an hour after I meant to leave - I had wanted to drive about 4 hours before finding a hotel, but so many people wanted to chat when I told them goodbye. Spending 48 hours with these folks that I felt like I'd known for years. I'm going to cut this short - Bob the cook needs me to look up recipes on the internet - he doesn't really have time - we have much corn beef left for the volunteers, and not too many other entrees....we already had corned beef and cabbage, corned beef hash, and corned beef sandwiches...other than serving with sauerkraut, does anyone have any other ideas with staple ingredients? :)
Bergen and Olga Blog 2
Today was our last day here, we don't want to leave. We took a break from our kitchen duties to go look at the destruction, it was devastating. There was a lighthouse that had been blown back by the wind, the bottom section was missing. It is something you have to see to believe. There is debris everywhere, and piles of sand that they had bulldozed off of the street. We saw places where houses used to be. It is really hard to describe the devastation. There was a bridge that had been completely obliterated, it was buckled up really bad. We hope that others will go down and help, it was an experience we will never forget.
Bergen & Olga
Bergen & Olga
Manna from Heaven
I have often quoted my pastor from Messiah Lutheran (they sent and supported me in seminary,) by saying, “You can’t out-give God.” I believe that. I know that God doesn’t “help those who help themselves,” but rather, “God gives grace to the humble.” God will never forsake his people. I believe that when we trust God with anything and everything, especially our finances, we will not be disappointed.
I’ve said it before, quoted from someone at a Bible study I once attended; “God will not forsake his people. We trust in God and give to God. He can make Manna rain down from heaven, if necessary, to feed his people.”
Now, I have seen it.
Yesterday, we were perilously close to running out of food. A person from the Food Distribution ministry went to Wal-Mart and bought $2,700 worth of food. That food ran out at 1:00 p.m., and the tables that were piled high with food when I first arrived now are completely empty. It is amazing how much food they share with people who need it.
Anyway, I have been grumbling (like the Hebrews did about the Manna in the desert) about the quantity of corned beef we have been fed. Corned beef hash, hot corned beef, corned beef sandwiches. But I will not complain any more, because I have seen where it comes from – God.
You see, God has given us everything we have. God even owns the sheep on the hills, as they say. Tonight, the kitchen staff decided we needed a salad to go with the chili for tonight. So, they headed off for the local store. On the way out, they found out that we were out of baby food. “We can’t have salad when they are out of baby food,” one volunteer said. So, they used the volunteer’s salad money to buy baby food for distribution. While they were at the store, a truck from a local restaurant showed up at the church with salad lettuce (with carrots, etc.). On this very day, the kitchen staff left with an agenda to feed us and decided to give it away to children, and God brought the very thing they were looking for to feed us. You can’t out-give God indeed. I’ve seen it. God will never forsake us, even after a hurricane.
Oh, and when they spooned out the salad on my plate, I never knew about the miracle that had placed the salad on my plate. I even thought, “well, I hate salad, but OK, I will eat it.” How often do we, not knowing what God has done for us, accept and respond to God’s miracles and grace like that?
I’ve said it before, quoted from someone at a Bible study I once attended; “God will not forsake his people. We trust in God and give to God. He can make Manna rain down from heaven, if necessary, to feed his people.”
Now, I have seen it.
Yesterday, we were perilously close to running out of food. A person from the Food Distribution ministry went to Wal-Mart and bought $2,700 worth of food. That food ran out at 1:00 p.m., and the tables that were piled high with food when I first arrived now are completely empty. It is amazing how much food they share with people who need it.
Anyway, I have been grumbling (like the Hebrews did about the Manna in the desert) about the quantity of corned beef we have been fed. Corned beef hash, hot corned beef, corned beef sandwiches. But I will not complain any more, because I have seen where it comes from – God.
You see, God has given us everything we have. God even owns the sheep on the hills, as they say. Tonight, the kitchen staff decided we needed a salad to go with the chili for tonight. So, they headed off for the local store. On the way out, they found out that we were out of baby food. “We can’t have salad when they are out of baby food,” one volunteer said. So, they used the volunteer’s salad money to buy baby food for distribution. While they were at the store, a truck from a local restaurant showed up at the church with salad lettuce (with carrots, etc.). On this very day, the kitchen staff left with an agenda to feed us and decided to give it away to children, and God brought the very thing they were looking for to feed us. You can’t out-give God indeed. I’ve seen it. God will never forsake us, even after a hurricane.
Oh, and when they spooned out the salad on my plate, I never knew about the miracle that had placed the salad on my plate. I even thought, “well, I hate salad, but OK, I will eat it.” How often do we, not knowing what God has done for us, accept and respond to God’s miracles and grace like that?
Farewell and Godspeed
I cannot describe how much it meant to me and to others to have Karoline, Olga and Bergen here. They all three worked incredibly hard.
Karoline was all over the kitchen, cleaning, baking and being bubbly Karoline. She was, what I would call, the “food marketing expert.” When people were unwilling to eat baked beans for breakfast, she came up with the idea of calling them, “Ocean Springs Baked Beans.” After that, they started going like hotcakes, which is a good thing to go like at breakfast. I cannot tell you how many times I saw Karoline talking with people, listening to their stories, calmly standing as a witness to the Peace of Christ, and serving God and others with a strength and resolve that was inspiring to those in the community, and the volunteers around her.
Olga is an inspiration. She is always bright, always intelligent, always focused and attentive, and always caring (even when she is complaining about my jokes.) I don’t know how she got out on the distribution line, but I encountered her out there yesterday, not complaining about the cold, cheery, and working hard. She said that someone had asked if I was her and Bergen’s father. I pointed out that perhaps, she should stop referring to me as “Pastor Mike” and start referring to me as “Father Mike.”
Bergen worked harder than some people I know who are two or three times her age. She is often quiet, yet always looking for something to do (that others might be missing) and she worked so hard I am surprised that she did not drop from exhaustion. She can’t hug people enough, and her and Olga made it a point to go around and tell people goodbye before they left. It will not be the same tomorrow without her here to hassle me about my jokes.
Karoline, Olga and Bergen served at Christus Victor with honor, faith, compassion and grace. I wish they hadn’t left tonight! Thank you for coming and for representing God and Good Shepherd faithfully.
Karoline was all over the kitchen, cleaning, baking and being bubbly Karoline. She was, what I would call, the “food marketing expert.” When people were unwilling to eat baked beans for breakfast, she came up with the idea of calling them, “Ocean Springs Baked Beans.” After that, they started going like hotcakes, which is a good thing to go like at breakfast. I cannot tell you how many times I saw Karoline talking with people, listening to their stories, calmly standing as a witness to the Peace of Christ, and serving God and others with a strength and resolve that was inspiring to those in the community, and the volunteers around her.
Olga is an inspiration. She is always bright, always intelligent, always focused and attentive, and always caring (even when she is complaining about my jokes.) I don’t know how she got out on the distribution line, but I encountered her out there yesterday, not complaining about the cold, cheery, and working hard. She said that someone had asked if I was her and Bergen’s father. I pointed out that perhaps, she should stop referring to me as “Pastor Mike” and start referring to me as “Father Mike.”
Bergen worked harder than some people I know who are two or three times her age. She is often quiet, yet always looking for something to do (that others might be missing) and she worked so hard I am surprised that she did not drop from exhaustion. She can’t hug people enough, and her and Olga made it a point to go around and tell people goodbye before they left. It will not be the same tomorrow without her here to hassle me about my jokes.
Karoline, Olga and Bergen served at Christus Victor with honor, faith, compassion and grace. I wish they hadn’t left tonight! Thank you for coming and for representing God and Good Shepherd faithfully.
Karoline Blog 2 - Hate to Leave
I am taking a short break after cleaning up the pots and pans - I have about 10 minutes before "sandwich patrol". Bergen and Olga are out back in the food distribution line. Daily we run out of food, and daily the Lord provides. I went outside to observe for a few minutes. People drive up, and volunteers take their "order". We have pre-packed boxes of food that will last 3-4 days, depending on the size of the family. These are set up on pallets in the rear of the church. Olga and Bergen will run in to get "special order" items, such as baby food, clothing, hygiene products, etc. We have buckets filled with cleaning products. Supplies are low. People are living in tents in "Tent City" or a lucky few have the FEMA trailers, which they are now trying to move back on property owners' land. I feel guilty sleeping in a nice warm house when these families are in a tent and it's in the 40's or maybe even 30's at night now.
I'm sure the check Pastor gave the church for purchasing supplies has probably already been spent. Volunteers went out last night to Walmart until 11 p.m. purchasing peanut butter, tuna fish, ramen noodles, etc. since we ran out of food to give out yesterday afternoon. A pickup truck of food arrived this morning.
There is a homeless woman...I think her name is Diana.... who comes in every day. She wants to help. Yesterday she was vacuuming, and then she helped in the food distribution line. She doesn't want anything for herself. Just to help others. Ironically, she is probably one of the only people living here who didn't lose anything - she didn't have anything to begin with. But she shows up here and offers her assistance.
In the kitchen, we have meals planned out maybe 36 hours ahead of time. We don't know what food we will have beyond that time. We have to pick through the bread for the sandwiches, because some of it has been moldy. Last night we ran out of fresh vegetables, and I was thinking about running over to Walmart this afternoon to buy fresh salad. Bob, our cook came in a few minutes ago with about 15 bags of salad - a local restaurant manager or owner donated it, saying that he wouldn't be able to use it before it went bad. God always provides. Bob jokes that we don't serve "real" food. The scrambled eggs come in a 10 lb. bag or a 10 lb. can...the french toast just needs to be heated...I think we have been having good meals and grateful volunteers. I'm thankful to have anything to eat when so many have so little.
Time for sandwich patrol. Will write more before we leave tonight, if there is time. We are leaving after the supper hour. I really hate to miss prayer meeting tonight, but want to drive for a few hours before sleeping. The morning and evening prayer hours have been very meaningful, with people sharing stories and experiences they've had that day. Many people are leaving today, and many more will arrive. Pastor Mike has left with Pastor Mark from Lacrosse, WI to make calls on parishioners. I wanted to wish him a good day, but somehow that seemed a very trite thing to say. After he left, I thought I should have wished him a blessed day...because that's how I feel, spiritually blessed and filled at each and every new corner I turn here at Christus Victor. I know he will have a blessed day. We are making a difference here. Thank you for your prayers.
Karoline
I'm sure the check Pastor gave the church for purchasing supplies has probably already been spent. Volunteers went out last night to Walmart until 11 p.m. purchasing peanut butter, tuna fish, ramen noodles, etc. since we ran out of food to give out yesterday afternoon. A pickup truck of food arrived this morning.
There is a homeless woman...I think her name is Diana.... who comes in every day. She wants to help. Yesterday she was vacuuming, and then she helped in the food distribution line. She doesn't want anything for herself. Just to help others. Ironically, she is probably one of the only people living here who didn't lose anything - she didn't have anything to begin with. But she shows up here and offers her assistance.
In the kitchen, we have meals planned out maybe 36 hours ahead of time. We don't know what food we will have beyond that time. We have to pick through the bread for the sandwiches, because some of it has been moldy. Last night we ran out of fresh vegetables, and I was thinking about running over to Walmart this afternoon to buy fresh salad. Bob, our cook came in a few minutes ago with about 15 bags of salad - a local restaurant manager or owner donated it, saying that he wouldn't be able to use it before it went bad. God always provides. Bob jokes that we don't serve "real" food. The scrambled eggs come in a 10 lb. bag or a 10 lb. can...the french toast just needs to be heated...I think we have been having good meals and grateful volunteers. I'm thankful to have anything to eat when so many have so little.
Time for sandwich patrol. Will write more before we leave tonight, if there is time. We are leaving after the supper hour. I really hate to miss prayer meeting tonight, but want to drive for a few hours before sleeping. The morning and evening prayer hours have been very meaningful, with people sharing stories and experiences they've had that day. Many people are leaving today, and many more will arrive. Pastor Mike has left with Pastor Mark from Lacrosse, WI to make calls on parishioners. I wanted to wish him a good day, but somehow that seemed a very trite thing to say. After he left, I thought I should have wished him a blessed day...because that's how I feel, spiritually blessed and filled at each and every new corner I turn here at Christus Victor. I know he will have a blessed day. We are making a difference here. Thank you for your prayers.
Karoline
Bergen's Blog
I remember on the way over seeing a very small part of the devistation. For instance, a boat washed on the sea shore, letters ripped off of businesses you know small things like that. What I remember most is that the T had been ripped off of Pizza Hut so it was Pizza Hu. (beware, Pastor will tell a joke about that.) Wensday we went down to Biloxi and looked around there. The devistation was terrible. One home had only it's roof left behind. I remember seeing a boat called the Luna Sea about a half mile up in the middle of downtown. We stopped by a home to check on some of the workers. They pointed out to us that the next door neighbor's home was moved by the storm on to her property. They had whole areas full of all sorts of junk where homes used to be. We had to go back to the church though because we had to make supper. I like the little worship services we have at 8:00 AM and 8:00 PM. They bring some of the workers together to pray and sing. Well it's getting late about 9:25 PM here and my feet are killing me so I better go to bed.
good night,
Bergen Lancaster
P.S.- I have to get up at 4:45 A.M. !!!!!!!!! :)
good night,
Bergen Lancaster
P.S.- I have to get up at 4:45 A.M. !!!!!!!!! :)
Olga's Blog
The trip to Ocean Springs has just been amazing; I have been spending most of my time in the kitchen serving food to the volunteers who have been going out houses, and the people who's houses have been destroyed by the hurricane. Earlier today we went out to look around and see some of the parts that had really been demolished. In some places there were just concrete slabs where houses used to be. We saw one house that had moved halfway into the neighbor's yard, over a fence. There were clothes, refrigerators, phones, doors, and almost anything you could think of just lying out in the street. It was really sad to see all of that. Several people had just set up tents in their back yard because they couldn't stay in their houses. The first night we saw two people sleeping on a couch on the side of the road, I felt so bad that I couldn't do anything. I will be sure to bring back lots of pictures. I will try to update more soon.
Olga Powers
Olga Powers
Blog from Karoline
Karoline asked me to share it with you. The views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect my views -- particularly the next to last paragraph! Actually, I was marvelling at how she shared several things I wanted to share but didn't have time for...God is good!
Michael <><
We arrived at Christus Victor around 6 p.m. last night and were immediately welcomed into the church to a corned beef and cabbage dinner. We didn't see too much damage on the way - just some torn highway signs and a boat under a bridge where there is now no water. Pastor Mike gave us the tour of Christus Victor and then took us over to the house where we are staying. We feel very fortunate to be sleeping in a house...even having a bed...as many volunteers are sleeping in the church in sleeping bags or in tents. Christus Victor is on Bienville Rd. in Ocean Spgs, and it's pretty much like 11E in Morristown, but higher density commercial property - businesses much closer together. Some businesses have a few cars, many offices are closed or were closed for the evening - but driving up to Christus Victor, not knowing what was happening here, one might think there was a festival or some other special event occuring - there are no parking spaces to be found! There are people here from Maine to Florida to Ohio....I met Morgan Gordy and also the transition pastor, Pastor Sig Arneson who just left my mom's church in Mt. Juliet and now is here in the midst of all this...and he's 75. He's also Norwegian too :) Can you imagine taking the position of transition pastor here? It's a tall order in any congregation, but for a church that's been damaged by a hurricane, housing volunteers, running a medical clinic (which has now moved out), food distribution center, feeding 200 people 3x a day...etc. Right after the hurricane, the preschool playground even served as a dog kennel.
Our hosts, Bob and Brenda Montgomery, live behind the church. I think there are 19 of us staying in their house, 2 out in a camper in their yard, and I believe a few in a tent. Pastor is sleeping upstairs on the landing. The girls and I are lucky enough to have a bedroom. We attended orientation last night and then the nightly prayer service. One of the Pastors asked where we see God as being near to us and where he is far from us. I see God everywhere here. From these people of this church who work tirelessly 7 days a week 12-16 hours a day coordinating volunteers...I'm talking 7 days a week since the hurricane hit, mind you....to the people who come in from mucking out the houses exhausted, tired...yet with big smiles on their faces...to our instant families, our brothers and sisters in Christ who we've bonded with instantly upon our arrival here. Everyone is a trooper. Everyone has a smile on their face, albeit a tired one. Everyone is kind and loving. It's like we've been here for ages. Some volunteers have been here since the beginning of October! Some people are here for the first time, like us...and some people have returned, eager to help out again however they can. It's very organized around here.
It really affected me last night when the volunteers spoke of people who have lost hope, people who after surviving the initial shock of the situation who now have reality setting in and are facing financial ruin...they did not have the proper insurance coverage that they thought they had. I hope that they find something to hang onto, that God gives them the strength to make it through this...so many people here have related stories about people who now see light at the end of the tunnel...for example, after mucking out their houses they now see an end to this process and hope of re-establishing some normalcy back to their lives...some of the residents here have stated that the Christian community is now their only hope. From what I've heard, Christus Victor with our small army of volunteers is the only church in the area doing this kind of ministry to the residents - most churches that you drive past, you may see one or two cars outside, if any. We are not only Lutherans here....I've met Methodist and Presbyterian volunteers, too....and a busload of volunteers arrived this afternoon from First Baptist in Tuscaloosa.
Those of you who wanted to come with us, but couldn't....I understand that CV will be doing this at least through the end of the year, maybe later. I'm already trying to figure out when I can come back.
Wednesday am - we got up at 4:45 to make breakfast - corned beef hash, scrambled eggs...and baked beans. Didn't have many takers on the beans until we called them "Ocean Springs baked beans". You're supposed to put them on top of the eggs and the hash. We had morning prayer meeting at 8. We made over 100 sandwiches for lunch, then made a couple hundred for the workers to take out with them tomorrow on the job sites. After lunch, we had a couple of free hours so Pastor took us out to Biloxi, which is about 2-3 miles away. Just like they say, you have to see it in person. We went to a house where our team was working. They were the third team that had been there since the hurricane, and they were doing the final work - taking out the insulation under the house and a general debris clean-up. The house behind it had it's front porch out in the middle of the road - it looked like the entire house had slid out into the road! On the ground, amidst all the sandy sludge, you see items that once held a place in someone's house....an old book of classic tales...a child's shoe....also a package of meals ready to eat. The Red Cross Ambulance drives through the neighborhood with it's loudspeaker on, announcing hot food is available. But no one answers to receive it. No one lives here right now. There's nothing but ruins of houses, boats juxtaposed against houses in strange places and angles. On the next street you might see a crane and demolition team. This is at least 4 blocks IN from the beach! On one street I saw an elderly black gentleman with a small shovel...I'm sure it was the remains of his home he was shoveling - there wasn't much left other than the slab. Stairs leading to nowhere. "Do Not Litter" and "No Dumping" signs, somehow undamaged by the hurricane, standing like lost soldiers in areas where everything is trash and ruins. FEMA marks on the front doors, indication potential presence of asbestos, and whether or not the house is condemned or not. Most of them are. It is absolutely mind-boggling. A boat, called the "Luna Sea", next to a back a block or so inland - just sitting right in the middle of town. Pastor says that a mile or so out in the water, debris and cars are bobbing in a tangled mess.
We made and served dinner. The people come in from working on the houses tired and dirty... and smiling, with such a pleasant demeanor. You can just see Christ shining in each and every one of them. Some are teenagers, some are in their seventies. Olga and Bergen are the darlings of the food line. I think people like to see their bright shining faces. They have been really working like troopers. There is a food distribution center in the back. People are lined up in the parking lot to receive canned goods, sandwiches, diapers - etc. - someone said the line was over 45 minutes long. We have a "drive-thru" distribution - people drive up and tell the volunteers what we need, someone goes in and gets it for them.
We then had nightly prayer service. It is now after 9 and I think I'm ready for bed. I don't want to leave tomorrow evening. I feel really connected, really privileged to be such a small part of this...here helping in any way I can. By the way, Bergen hung a sign on Pastor today. It had "jokes" written in the middle of the sign, a circle around it, and a bar crossing out jokes; however, I am sad to say it hasn't worked.
That's all for now - time to get these girls to bed.
Michael <><
We arrived at Christus Victor around 6 p.m. last night and were immediately welcomed into the church to a corned beef and cabbage dinner. We didn't see too much damage on the way - just some torn highway signs and a boat under a bridge where there is now no water. Pastor Mike gave us the tour of Christus Victor and then took us over to the house where we are staying. We feel very fortunate to be sleeping in a house...even having a bed...as many volunteers are sleeping in the church in sleeping bags or in tents. Christus Victor is on Bienville Rd. in Ocean Spgs, and it's pretty much like 11E in Morristown, but higher density commercial property - businesses much closer together. Some businesses have a few cars, many offices are closed or were closed for the evening - but driving up to Christus Victor, not knowing what was happening here, one might think there was a festival or some other special event occuring - there are no parking spaces to be found! There are people here from Maine to Florida to Ohio....I met Morgan Gordy and also the transition pastor, Pastor Sig Arneson who just left my mom's church in Mt. Juliet and now is here in the midst of all this...and he's 75. He's also Norwegian too :) Can you imagine taking the position of transition pastor here? It's a tall order in any congregation, but for a church that's been damaged by a hurricane, housing volunteers, running a medical clinic (which has now moved out), food distribution center, feeding 200 people 3x a day...etc. Right after the hurricane, the preschool playground even served as a dog kennel.
Our hosts, Bob and Brenda Montgomery, live behind the church. I think there are 19 of us staying in their house, 2 out in a camper in their yard, and I believe a few in a tent. Pastor is sleeping upstairs on the landing. The girls and I are lucky enough to have a bedroom. We attended orientation last night and then the nightly prayer service. One of the Pastors asked where we see God as being near to us and where he is far from us. I see God everywhere here. From these people of this church who work tirelessly 7 days a week 12-16 hours a day coordinating volunteers...I'm talking 7 days a week since the hurricane hit, mind you....to the people who come in from mucking out the houses exhausted, tired...yet with big smiles on their faces...to our instant families, our brothers and sisters in Christ who we've bonded with instantly upon our arrival here. Everyone is a trooper. Everyone has a smile on their face, albeit a tired one. Everyone is kind and loving. It's like we've been here for ages. Some volunteers have been here since the beginning of October! Some people are here for the first time, like us...and some people have returned, eager to help out again however they can. It's very organized around here.
It really affected me last night when the volunteers spoke of people who have lost hope, people who after surviving the initial shock of the situation who now have reality setting in and are facing financial ruin...they did not have the proper insurance coverage that they thought they had. I hope that they find something to hang onto, that God gives them the strength to make it through this...so many people here have related stories about people who now see light at the end of the tunnel...for example, after mucking out their houses they now see an end to this process and hope of re-establishing some normalcy back to their lives...some of the residents here have stated that the Christian community is now their only hope. From what I've heard, Christus Victor with our small army of volunteers is the only church in the area doing this kind of ministry to the residents - most churches that you drive past, you may see one or two cars outside, if any. We are not only Lutherans here....I've met Methodist and Presbyterian volunteers, too....and a busload of volunteers arrived this afternoon from First Baptist in Tuscaloosa.
Those of you who wanted to come with us, but couldn't....I understand that CV will be doing this at least through the end of the year, maybe later. I'm already trying to figure out when I can come back.
Wednesday am - we got up at 4:45 to make breakfast - corned beef hash, scrambled eggs...and baked beans. Didn't have many takers on the beans until we called them "Ocean Springs baked beans". You're supposed to put them on top of the eggs and the hash. We had morning prayer meeting at 8. We made over 100 sandwiches for lunch, then made a couple hundred for the workers to take out with them tomorrow on the job sites. After lunch, we had a couple of free hours so Pastor took us out to Biloxi, which is about 2-3 miles away. Just like they say, you have to see it in person. We went to a house where our team was working. They were the third team that had been there since the hurricane, and they were doing the final work - taking out the insulation under the house and a general debris clean-up. The house behind it had it's front porch out in the middle of the road - it looked like the entire house had slid out into the road! On the ground, amidst all the sandy sludge, you see items that once held a place in someone's house....an old book of classic tales...a child's shoe....also a package of meals ready to eat. The Red Cross Ambulance drives through the neighborhood with it's loudspeaker on, announcing hot food is available. But no one answers to receive it. No one lives here right now. There's nothing but ruins of houses, boats juxtaposed against houses in strange places and angles. On the next street you might see a crane and demolition team. This is at least 4 blocks IN from the beach! On one street I saw an elderly black gentleman with a small shovel...I'm sure it was the remains of his home he was shoveling - there wasn't much left other than the slab. Stairs leading to nowhere. "Do Not Litter" and "No Dumping" signs, somehow undamaged by the hurricane, standing like lost soldiers in areas where everything is trash and ruins. FEMA marks on the front doors, indication potential presence of asbestos, and whether or not the house is condemned or not. Most of them are. It is absolutely mind-boggling. A boat, called the "Luna Sea", next to a back a block or so inland - just sitting right in the middle of town. Pastor says that a mile or so out in the water, debris and cars are bobbing in a tangled mess.
We made and served dinner. The people come in from working on the houses tired and dirty... and smiling, with such a pleasant demeanor. You can just see Christ shining in each and every one of them. Some are teenagers, some are in their seventies. Olga and Bergen are the darlings of the food line. I think people like to see their bright shining faces. They have been really working like troopers. There is a food distribution center in the back. People are lined up in the parking lot to receive canned goods, sandwiches, diapers - etc. - someone said the line was over 45 minutes long. We have a "drive-thru" distribution - people drive up and tell the volunteers what we need, someone goes in and gets it for them.
We then had nightly prayer service. It is now after 9 and I think I'm ready for bed. I don't want to leave tomorrow evening. I feel really connected, really privileged to be such a small part of this...here helping in any way I can. By the way, Bergen hung a sign on Pastor today. It had "jokes" written in the middle of the sign, a circle around it, and a bar crossing out jokes; however, I am sad to say it hasn't worked.
That's all for now - time to get these girls to bed.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
The Facade of Normalcy
Yesterday I was thinking about the lack of normalcy, and I have continued to ponder what "normal" is. I know what I'd like "normal" to be, and we almost never experience normal as I would like it. Even so, I think that there are some bare minimums in modern society that I think we could all agree upon -- like having a house, let alone electricity and water, for example -- and that bare minimum, and then some, is what was removed in 10 hours.
And everybody notices it, and knows about it, and only people from "outside" talk about it. Everyone else knows it is gone, and are afraid that it will never be back. At least, I think (and I am guessing, really, since nobody talks about it) that people are afraid that it won't be back. Maybe they are afraid that even if it comes back, they won't be able to trust that it won't be taken away again.
People act differently in trying to regain the facade of normalcy. Some people have run away, and are apparently trying to recreate normalcy somewhere else. Today, we visited a parishioner whom no one has heard from since the hurricane. We knocked on the door, and there was honestly no sign of activity since the storm. A child's inflatable basketball hoop was tangled in her tree (I untangled it). Windows were open, blinds were torn down, even the refrigerator in the kitchen had been toppled over by the force of the wind, apparently. Chairs and items were all over the house, and the portion of the room missing shields was not covered and protected by a FEMA blue tarp that you see all over the place. I hope they are alright.
If some people try to find normalcy by escaping, others (I think) try to find it by working long hours and by expending heroic levels of energy in trying to recreate it. I am constantly amazed by all of the work that everyone is doing here. It is amazing.
Back to the difference between outsiders and locals of discussing normalcy,
It is amazing how close to everyone the storm is at all times. Oh, and the server's name was Katrina, but she had since changed her name and nametag to "Kat." None of us would have guessed that. Even so, one of the other pastors asked her name. She wouldn't tell us. After a few questions, she "jokingly" said that she had to change it back to "Kat" after the storm. It was only then that we figured it out. She said that people were hassling her and asking if she had a sister named Rita
Golly, I keep trying to bring some levity to my notes, but it just won't seem to come...Sorry...
Michael <><
And everybody notices it, and knows about it, and only people from "outside" talk about it. Everyone else knows it is gone, and are afraid that it will never be back. At least, I think (and I am guessing, really, since nobody talks about it) that people are afraid that it won't be back. Maybe they are afraid that even if it comes back, they won't be able to trust that it won't be taken away again.
People act differently in trying to regain the facade of normalcy. Some people have run away, and are apparently trying to recreate normalcy somewhere else. Today, we visited a parishioner whom no one has heard from since the hurricane. We knocked on the door, and there was honestly no sign of activity since the storm. A child's inflatable basketball hoop was tangled in her tree (I untangled it). Windows were open, blinds were torn down, even the refrigerator in the kitchen had been toppled over by the force of the wind, apparently. Chairs and items were all over the house, and the portion of the room missing shields was not covered and protected by a FEMA blue tarp that you see all over the place. I hope they are alright.
If some people try to find normalcy by escaping, others (I think) try to find it by working long hours and by expending heroic levels of energy in trying to recreate it. I am constantly amazed by all of the work that everyone is doing here. It is amazing.
Back to the difference between outsiders and locals of discussing normalcy,
- At evening prayer, one volunteer from SC spoke about how long it would take to return to normalcy.
- This afternoon, when visiting a worksite, a worker from Ohio described a moment last night with the owners, when they shared a glass of wine on what is left of their deck (2/3 of it is 25 feet away, standing on its concrete moorings and wood pilings, as if it walked over and leaned against the neighbor's house). As they stared across the bay and watched the moon rise, he said that maybe there was just a touch of normalcy, and an ever-so-slight glimmer of hope that it might return.
- The only local that ever came close to saying the word was the receptionist at the Ocean Springs Chamber of Commerce. Remember, she is paid to be positive and hopeful! She said to me today, "There is even a lot of traffic back on the streets now. See, things are starting to get back to..." After her voice trailed off, she stared and looked at some faraway place for a few seconds. Finally, she said, "Well, it's like I say, 'It is what it is.'"
- The Distribution Center gives food, cleaning supplies, or whatever to anyone who drives up and asks for it. Some people are desparate; some people are just desparate for someone to talk with them and listen. Another family, through tears, relayed that the food had allowed her and her husband to save up enough money to roof their house. Yesterday the line was 45 minutes long at one point. One woman was so distressed and anxious that she literally got sick in her car while she was waiting.
- At one house, the crew leader remarked that he was stunned by the irony, when he noticed the homeowner had a bag with aluminum cans saved for recycling in a plastic bag. All of her possessions were destroyed, and the entire bottom half of her house (drywall, insulation, chimney, etc.) was missing, destroyed my Mother Nature, and yet here she was trying to do her part to save the very environment that wrecked her house.
- There was so much water in one house, even almost 3 months after the storm, that they were pulling 3 foot sections of floor insulation that weighed 30 pounds. As they pulled the drywall, the water would literally poor out in gallons. Tomorrow, they will spray bleach.
It is amazing how close to everyone the storm is at all times. Oh, and the server's name was Katrina, but she had since changed her name and nametag to "Kat." None of us would have guessed that. Even so, one of the other pastors asked her name. She wouldn't tell us. After a few questions, she "jokingly" said that she had to change it back to "Kat" after the storm. It was only then that we figured it out. She said that people were hassling her and asking if she had a sister named Rita
Golly, I keep trying to bring some levity to my notes, but it just won't seem to come...Sorry...
Michael <><
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
First Call of the Day
We had a call first thing this morning, and it got our attention immediately. Someone from the community called and reported a suicide about 2 miles from the church. The other pastor, Mark from Le Crosse, WI, and I responded.
We drove to the house of the woman who called. It turns out that it had happened a day or two ago. Nonetheless, she said that she had been to the church a few weeks ago, and she was thanking the church for all that they had done to help. She said that a woman with three children a street or two over had committed suicide by, "hanging herself out back." Then came the startlingly honest statement, "I almost did that too, when it looked like things weren't working out, but thanks to your help and the insurance company coming through, I feel much better. I am going to be alright now."
The other woman hadn't been as lucky in with her insurance. Not only that, but she was in New Orleans for the hurricane, apparently, and her mom's home was destroyed - she was staying there as she was getting divorced. She returned home, convinced her husband to move out, and now was losing everything because the insurance wasn't going to help.
I don't know what moves a person to take her or his own life. I do know something powerful that may help prevent it. Hope.
"The Christians" are the only ones around here who are still trying to help people and give them hope. One person told about someone who came in to Christus Victor at the end of her rope. She was devastated -- and this was within the past few days. The work crew said that she was a completely different person a week later, when they were working on her house, and when they were eating pizza for lunch. She couldn't contain herself.
I'm learning something here. I used to think, "well, that's just 'service'. How can helping someone help them spiritually? Don't you need to proclaim the Gospel?" I'm learning that sometimes just by being who we are as Christians, and helping people who are really at the end of their ropes, you actually do proclaim the Good (saving) News of Jesus Christ through actions. James had it right in the New Testament, I think.
Someone (you don't know him) told me a couple of weeks after the hurricane hit that, "Well, the Bible says that you shouldn't build your house on sand." Well, yes it does, but well, I don't think I can respond beyond that.
When you look into the eyes of someone, anyone around here and ask them about the hurricane, you begin to understand how much of a heartless "tin man" comment that is.
From what I've seen, people haven't just lost a house, a computer at work, a job, or perhaps even a mother to suicide. Many of them (and I mean, just about all of them, if you scratch deep enough) have lost something far more valuable than that.
And what is that? A sense of innocence that everything around you probably won't be ripped away from you in 10 mere hours. And for someone who lost a mother to that as well, I don't see how you can ever fully recover from that.
Even so, I wonder if the Church has anything to say in that darkness. Perhaps, a message of hope, grounded in a man, God made flesh, who can bear all of that and create something new in the ultimate utter darkness of death.
Light and new life in heaven. Brought to us by the hands of one who will forever be scarred by nails and a spear.
New life in the midst of a trauma that will never go away. An empty cross and empty tomb planted in the "hole in the soul." The beginning of healing, or at least, coping.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm alive, alive in Christ."
Thank God that the Church is the one who is still bringing that message, but we need more of us here.
I wanted to write about Biloxi, but that will have to wait for tomorrow.
Please, please, please, pray for the people who live here. It will be years before they can begin to emotionally recover, let alone physically. Seriously.
We drove to the house of the woman who called. It turns out that it had happened a day or two ago. Nonetheless, she said that she had been to the church a few weeks ago, and she was thanking the church for all that they had done to help. She said that a woman with three children a street or two over had committed suicide by, "hanging herself out back." Then came the startlingly honest statement, "I almost did that too, when it looked like things weren't working out, but thanks to your help and the insurance company coming through, I feel much better. I am going to be alright now."
The other woman hadn't been as lucky in with her insurance. Not only that, but she was in New Orleans for the hurricane, apparently, and her mom's home was destroyed - she was staying there as she was getting divorced. She returned home, convinced her husband to move out, and now was losing everything because the insurance wasn't going to help.
I don't know what moves a person to take her or his own life. I do know something powerful that may help prevent it. Hope.
"The Christians" are the only ones around here who are still trying to help people and give them hope. One person told about someone who came in to Christus Victor at the end of her rope. She was devastated -- and this was within the past few days. The work crew said that she was a completely different person a week later, when they were working on her house, and when they were eating pizza for lunch. She couldn't contain herself.
I'm learning something here. I used to think, "well, that's just 'service'. How can helping someone help them spiritually? Don't you need to proclaim the Gospel?" I'm learning that sometimes just by being who we are as Christians, and helping people who are really at the end of their ropes, you actually do proclaim the Good (saving) News of Jesus Christ through actions. James had it right in the New Testament, I think.
Someone (you don't know him) told me a couple of weeks after the hurricane hit that, "Well, the Bible says that you shouldn't build your house on sand." Well, yes it does, but well, I don't think I can respond beyond that.
When you look into the eyes of someone, anyone around here and ask them about the hurricane, you begin to understand how much of a heartless "tin man" comment that is.
From what I've seen, people haven't just lost a house, a computer at work, a job, or perhaps even a mother to suicide. Many of them (and I mean, just about all of them, if you scratch deep enough) have lost something far more valuable than that.
And what is that? A sense of innocence that everything around you probably won't be ripped away from you in 10 mere hours. And for someone who lost a mother to that as well, I don't see how you can ever fully recover from that.
Even so, I wonder if the Church has anything to say in that darkness. Perhaps, a message of hope, grounded in a man, God made flesh, who can bear all of that and create something new in the ultimate utter darkness of death.
Light and new life in heaven. Brought to us by the hands of one who will forever be scarred by nails and a spear.
New life in the midst of a trauma that will never go away. An empty cross and empty tomb planted in the "hole in the soul." The beginning of healing, or at least, coping.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm alive, alive in Christ."
Thank God that the Church is the one who is still bringing that message, but we need more of us here.
I wanted to write about Biloxi, but that will have to wait for tomorrow.
Please, please, please, pray for the people who live here. It will be years before they can begin to emotionally recover, let alone physically. Seriously.
Starting Day 1
The day started out with breakfast and morning prayer, the second part of which (morning prayer) I found out about as it was completing. Of course, I didn't miss breakfast... :-)
I promised myself that I wouldn't use any corny stock phrases like, "I never expected to find this," or "It's hard to describe what it is like," or things like that. Unfortunately, that is exactly what I find myself thinking over and over.
Let me put it like this – last night, I wrote about a young man who asked how I was doing, and when I said, “Fine, how are you doing,” he replied, “Well, I’m alive.” At the time I thought he was being funny. After talking with the other visiting pastor, and after looking around ever more today, I am convinced that he was quite serious. More on that in subsequent posts.
The church is in a state of damage and moderate repair, even as it serves as a focal point to minister to those who need help. The ceiling tiles are all gone (except in the pastor's office, go figure). The sanctuary is completely torn apart down to the studs and outside walls, and all of the insulation and drywall is being replaced. Carpets everywhere have been removed to the bare floor. Work crews assemble in the Narthex and (sometimes nervously) get their people, tools and supplies ready to go.
There is a distribution center for food and cleaning items. The back two thirds of the fellowship hall is stacked, cluttered even, with items for people, and there are pallets out back with tarps over them. Even so, the materials go out almost as quick as they come in. They serve three meals a day.
Anyone can get help who wants it. When people ask, “who can eat here,” the answer is, “anyone who walks in the door.” Anyone can just walk in and ask for food or cleaning supplies. People can just walk in and fill out a work order, no charge and with very few questions asked. As soon as possible, a work crew will be dispatched to help tear out the drywall, removed the screws/nails, clean the floors, and spray a bleach solution on the studs to prevent and remove mold.
This process is called, “mucking.” You start with a flooded house and you end with a gutted one. The crews eat, pray/sing songs/read a Scripture lesson, get assignments, get their tools, and go.
They never catch up with the work.
I promised myself that I wouldn't use any corny stock phrases like, "I never expected to find this," or "It's hard to describe what it is like," or things like that. Unfortunately, that is exactly what I find myself thinking over and over.
Let me put it like this – last night, I wrote about a young man who asked how I was doing, and when I said, “Fine, how are you doing,” he replied, “Well, I’m alive.” At the time I thought he was being funny. After talking with the other visiting pastor, and after looking around ever more today, I am convinced that he was quite serious. More on that in subsequent posts.
The church is in a state of damage and moderate repair, even as it serves as a focal point to minister to those who need help. The ceiling tiles are all gone (except in the pastor's office, go figure). The sanctuary is completely torn apart down to the studs and outside walls, and all of the insulation and drywall is being replaced. Carpets everywhere have been removed to the bare floor. Work crews assemble in the Narthex and (sometimes nervously) get their people, tools and supplies ready to go.
There is a distribution center for food and cleaning items. The back two thirds of the fellowship hall is stacked, cluttered even, with items for people, and there are pallets out back with tarps over them. Even so, the materials go out almost as quick as they come in. They serve three meals a day.
Anyone can get help who wants it. When people ask, “who can eat here,” the answer is, “anyone who walks in the door.” Anyone can just walk in and ask for food or cleaning supplies. People can just walk in and fill out a work order, no charge and with very few questions asked. As soon as possible, a work crew will be dispatched to help tear out the drywall, removed the screws/nails, clean the floors, and spray a bleach solution on the studs to prevent and remove mold.
This process is called, “mucking.” You start with a flooded house and you end with a gutted one. The crews eat, pray/sing songs/read a Scripture lesson, get assignments, get their tools, and go.
They never catch up with the work.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Arrived at Ocean Springs-Initial Impressions
I’m not much into journaling, but I thought I would try to get on the “Blog” bandwagon. I don’t even know if I will write everyday, or how far into the future I will write, but I thought I’d give it the old “college try.”
Driving down to Ocean Springs from Morristown took quite awhile, nine hours or so. It was about 600 miles, so I think that is pretty good time.
One never knows quite what to expect when coming to something like a “hurricane ravaged re-gion.” I arrived at night (I got here after 10:00 p.m. local time, which is Central), so I couldn’t really see much. I never see anything from the Interstate anyways, except Wal-Mart’s, of which there are plenty.
Anyway, the trip went through Knoxville, Birmingham, Montgomery, Mobile, and then west on I-10 to Ocean Springs. I was rather surprised listening to the radio in Mobile – there was a Pub-lic Service Ad (PSA) with the repeated phrase, “Don’t get burned by Ivan.” I was intrigued, be-cause I knew that Ivan had gone through Mobile a year ago in late September, and was long be-fore Katrina. The ad was a warning to people that the “tree items from Ivan that are on the ground and in the forests are extremely dangerous.” I was wondering why – maybe a home for snakes or something. Then they explained, “an open fire can take off in a flash.” The PSA was a warning not to burn things outside because they might start fires in broken limbs, etc. left by Hurricane Ivan. I thought that was interesting.
Finally I arrived at Ocean Springs, and when I went into the Exxon to, umm, make a pit stop, the early-20’s attendant asked me how I was doing. I said, “Fine, how are you?” He said, “I’m alive.” Again, with my heightened “hurricane sensors” on full thrusters, I thought that an inter-esting comment, although he probably meant nothing by it.
I then continued down the block to Christus Victor Lutheran Church. I was surprised to pull into the parking lot, and to find it rather full of vehicles. There was a semi-trailer parked next to the church, I found out later it was a refrigerator trailer, and the compressor engine was running full bore.
I called my host, who lives around the corner from the church. He immediately walked over to the church, and we went inside so I could get registered. Again, it was after 10:30 p.m., and I was surprised at the quickness of his response. We entered the Narthex, and the carpet had been recently removed – probably damaged by the hurricane. I was even more surprised to find three people at computer stations, ready to “in-process” me. I was given an armband with my name pre-written on it and a nametag that had instructions for how to get to my host’s house. As I left, I noticed a few people using the wireless internet, presumably they were housed at the church.
So, we went around the corner to the host’s house. I entered, and noticed a water stain on the ceiling. Again, I assume it is from the hurricane. There were people sleeping everywhere, in the front room, in the bedrooms, etc. My location is on the landing at the top of the stairs. I was given the quick tour, and from what I saw, even the cadre at my Basic Training would be im-pressed with the level of organization. Towels were stacked, and cleaned daily by the host (who also works during the day as a volunteer coordinating the volunteers). The bathrooms had towels and cleaning supplies that we are to use to leave the facilities sanitary for the next persons. She even provided an iron for my shirt, and offered me a piece of apple pie. By the time I got my stuff for tonight out of the car, they had already inflated the air mattress and had me ready to go.
I am interested to see what happens tomorrow. I noticed several signs missing from businesses, road signs bent over, or missing panels, etc. Power was on and there was a lot of traffic, but I am guessing that there were many more problems closer to the coast. Just from what I have seen, the relief effort here at Christus Victor is still much needed and is very well organized.
One thing I can’t get over – my hosts have been having people living all over their house ever since Katrina hit, and there is no immediate end in sight! Katrina hit in late July, if I’m not mis-taken…
Well, it’s time to go to bed. I will try to troubleshoot the internet connection tomorrow and post this entry.
Driving down to Ocean Springs from Morristown took quite awhile, nine hours or so. It was about 600 miles, so I think that is pretty good time.
One never knows quite what to expect when coming to something like a “hurricane ravaged re-gion.” I arrived at night (I got here after 10:00 p.m. local time, which is Central), so I couldn’t really see much. I never see anything from the Interstate anyways, except Wal-Mart’s, of which there are plenty.
Anyway, the trip went through Knoxville, Birmingham, Montgomery, Mobile, and then west on I-10 to Ocean Springs. I was rather surprised listening to the radio in Mobile – there was a Pub-lic Service Ad (PSA) with the repeated phrase, “Don’t get burned by Ivan.” I was intrigued, be-cause I knew that Ivan had gone through Mobile a year ago in late September, and was long be-fore Katrina. The ad was a warning to people that the “tree items from Ivan that are on the ground and in the forests are extremely dangerous.” I was wondering why – maybe a home for snakes or something. Then they explained, “an open fire can take off in a flash.” The PSA was a warning not to burn things outside because they might start fires in broken limbs, etc. left by Hurricane Ivan. I thought that was interesting.
Finally I arrived at Ocean Springs, and when I went into the Exxon to, umm, make a pit stop, the early-20’s attendant asked me how I was doing. I said, “Fine, how are you?” He said, “I’m alive.” Again, with my heightened “hurricane sensors” on full thrusters, I thought that an inter-esting comment, although he probably meant nothing by it.
I then continued down the block to Christus Victor Lutheran Church. I was surprised to pull into the parking lot, and to find it rather full of vehicles. There was a semi-trailer parked next to the church, I found out later it was a refrigerator trailer, and the compressor engine was running full bore.
I called my host, who lives around the corner from the church. He immediately walked over to the church, and we went inside so I could get registered. Again, it was after 10:30 p.m., and I was surprised at the quickness of his response. We entered the Narthex, and the carpet had been recently removed – probably damaged by the hurricane. I was even more surprised to find three people at computer stations, ready to “in-process” me. I was given an armband with my name pre-written on it and a nametag that had instructions for how to get to my host’s house. As I left, I noticed a few people using the wireless internet, presumably they were housed at the church.
So, we went around the corner to the host’s house. I entered, and noticed a water stain on the ceiling. Again, I assume it is from the hurricane. There were people sleeping everywhere, in the front room, in the bedrooms, etc. My location is on the landing at the top of the stairs. I was given the quick tour, and from what I saw, even the cadre at my Basic Training would be im-pressed with the level of organization. Towels were stacked, and cleaned daily by the host (who also works during the day as a volunteer coordinating the volunteers). The bathrooms had towels and cleaning supplies that we are to use to leave the facilities sanitary for the next persons. She even provided an iron for my shirt, and offered me a piece of apple pie. By the time I got my stuff for tonight out of the car, they had already inflated the air mattress and had me ready to go.
I am interested to see what happens tomorrow. I noticed several signs missing from businesses, road signs bent over, or missing panels, etc. Power was on and there was a lot of traffic, but I am guessing that there were many more problems closer to the coast. Just from what I have seen, the relief effort here at Christus Victor is still much needed and is very well organized.
One thing I can’t get over – my hosts have been having people living all over their house ever since Katrina hit, and there is no immediate end in sight! Katrina hit in late July, if I’m not mis-taken…
Well, it’s time to go to bed. I will try to troubleshoot the internet connection tomorrow and post this entry.
