We've been exploring for three days now, and the devastation leaves one utterly speechless. I never thought that I would ever see anything like this in our country; this is the closest thing I have ever seen to a war-zone... I could write pages about the political injustice and everything else which is hindering the re-builiding, but I won't. Instead I would rather talk about the people.
Romans 8:39
Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The people we have met have all lost so much. Many lost every single earthly possession that they own except what they had on their back, but they still have the love of God. I have found it to be true, that when we understand what Jesus has done for us, then there is nothing which can separate us from His love. Not even a category 5 hurricane which strips one of everything they own... God is still loving. Mary lives in Mississippi, her house was directly under the eye of the hurricane, but she did not evacuate. She said she just prayed, she was never afraid, but just trusted in the Lord. People who never came to church before the storm, now come every week. Just like with Elijah, God may not have been in the wind, or the fire, but God was there in the silence which followed. God's love was there when nothing else was, and that is exactly what the people needed most at that time. In God's love there is hope. Those who put their hope in homes, jobs, and money, saw what can happen in the blink of an eye, but those who put their hope in the Lord, know that they are never alone. They know that there is something that God is preparing for them, something better... A day will come when God's people aren't reliant on the federal government, or a city that wants to destroy their neighborhood for good... God is here, God's love is here and that love is being shared between brothers and sisters of the Heavenly Father...
What can we learn from our time here? There is no way to prepare for a catastrophe, but we can learn to love one another before the storm. The storms will come... but if we have the love of God, and the love of one another... nothing can take our hope. I, like Mary, have decided that I won't be afraid of the rain, but will get through whatever life throws my way by trusting in the Lord...
Saturday, December 2, 2006
Laughing on the levee (or not)
It was interesting to see five college girls talking and laughing on the levee of Mississippi River, in the French Quarter, asking a man walking by to take their picture. They were probably students on a holiday, having fun in the lively downtown of New Orleans. A city center unlike any other I have seen in the States, live music on every corner, mimics and acrobats doing their acts.
Only an hour earlier we were driving in Lower Ninth Ward, stopping at a relief center, meeting people coming for an extra blanket, because it had been cold in their FEMA-trailer the night before. Devastated houses and people looking for solidarity not charity was what we met in the Lower Ninth Ward, a poor neighborhood, which was almost forgotten and will probably not be rebuilt. No matter the feelings of the house owners that have little or no possibility to start from scratch elsewhere. It was also shocking to hear that the new levee protecting the neighborhood is to low to stop the flooding if a Hurricane of Katrina’s size would hit again. According to the Government a better levee would just be too expensive. But the decision seems almost inhuman when we drive by houses marked with the letters D.O.A. 1-Body.
U2 and Green Day sang in the Superdome a little more than a month a go: After the Flood all the Colors came out. Hopefully they are right; it was a colorful day for the five college girls on the levee of Mississippi River today. But we still have to hope and pray for more colorful days for the people in the Lower Ninth Ward.
Only an hour earlier we were driving in Lower Ninth Ward, stopping at a relief center, meeting people coming for an extra blanket, because it had been cold in their FEMA-trailer the night before. Devastated houses and people looking for solidarity not charity was what we met in the Lower Ninth Ward, a poor neighborhood, which was almost forgotten and will probably not be rebuilt. No matter the feelings of the house owners that have little or no possibility to start from scratch elsewhere. It was also shocking to hear that the new levee protecting the neighborhood is to low to stop the flooding if a Hurricane of Katrina’s size would hit again. According to the Government a better levee would just be too expensive. But the decision seems almost inhuman when we drive by houses marked with the letters D.O.A. 1-Body.
U2 and Green Day sang in the Superdome a little more than a month a go: After the Flood all the Colors came out. Hopefully they are right; it was a colorful day for the five college girls on the levee of Mississippi River today. But we still have to hope and pray for more colorful days for the people in the Lower Ninth Ward.
Thankful for Beignets and Cafe au lait
I've started this blog over 5 times. All I can say is that words come up short to describe what we have seen and heard. Not much resembles the memories I have of New Orleans and surrounding communities. After hours of touring devastating sights...destroyed houses, hollowed out houses, partially rebuilt houses and church buildings, miles of empty apartments, closed businesses, government offices meeting in trailers, FEMA trailer parks, dead trees and plants, piles of debris, cars crushed, boats still sitting on sidewalks, and pilings without houses on top, it was an overwhelming relief to find beignets and cafe au lait still for sale in the French quarter. Jazz is still played on street corners, the horse drawn buggies still move tourists around the narrow streets, and artists still hang their creations on the fence around St. Louis Cathedral.
The experience here reminds me of hospital chaplaincy. You never knew what was awaiting you in the next room. In one room there was sad news and in the next joyful celebration. We listen to people who all have stories to tell. With one you are sad for their loss of home, work, or loved one. With the next you are celebrating the miraculous deliverance from the storm's rage. You are stunned one minute by the destruction by a broken levee and shocked on the other side of the levee to find a normal neighborhood.
I keep thinking of the people so disrupted by the storm. One day they had a neighborhood where folks sat on front porches and watched children play. The next day everyone they knew and shared life with dispersed to another city, perhaps never to be heard from again.
The results of Katrina are still monumental. In the week ahead we will be "mucking a house." We have had the training now and will be ready to don our protective gear so that we can tear out walls and insultation and put what is left of someone's possessions on the curb. There are thousands of homes yet to be emptied. Consider coming to help for a week or two.
There is a spirit of resilience here. Those who remain go about the painstaking process of rebuilding. Sometimes there will be only one or two inhabited homes in a whole block. It takes a full measure of hope to rebuild and reclaim home when the neighbors are now all off in some other city or state and many will never be returning. It takes courage, and hope and faith to rebuild a neighborhood church when the vast majority of the neighborhood remains abandoned and looking like a bombed out war zone, but the building is happening. God is at work here...in the still small voice of volunteers and caring citizens.
Don't think this disaster is history. It is still unfolding in so many ways. Pray, donate time and money, and come listen and serve.
Pastor Ruth Fortis
The experience here reminds me of hospital chaplaincy. You never knew what was awaiting you in the next room. In one room there was sad news and in the next joyful celebration. We listen to people who all have stories to tell. With one you are sad for their loss of home, work, or loved one. With the next you are celebrating the miraculous deliverance from the storm's rage. You are stunned one minute by the destruction by a broken levee and shocked on the other side of the levee to find a normal neighborhood.
I keep thinking of the people so disrupted by the storm. One day they had a neighborhood where folks sat on front porches and watched children play. The next day everyone they knew and shared life with dispersed to another city, perhaps never to be heard from again.
The results of Katrina are still monumental. In the week ahead we will be "mucking a house." We have had the training now and will be ready to don our protective gear so that we can tear out walls and insultation and put what is left of someone's possessions on the curb. There are thousands of homes yet to be emptied. Consider coming to help for a week or two.
There is a spirit of resilience here. Those who remain go about the painstaking process of rebuilding. Sometimes there will be only one or two inhabited homes in a whole block. It takes a full measure of hope to rebuild and reclaim home when the neighbors are now all off in some other city or state and many will never be returning. It takes courage, and hope and faith to rebuild a neighborhood church when the vast majority of the neighborhood remains abandoned and looking like a bombed out war zone, but the building is happening. God is at work here...in the still small voice of volunteers and caring citizens.
Don't think this disaster is history. It is still unfolding in so many ways. Pray, donate time and money, and come listen and serve.
Pastor Ruth Fortis
Importance of Telling Stories
Coming down, I was skeptical that people would still want to share their stories after the time that has gone by since Katrina. I thought asking people to share their stories might even be an impostion.
Having just come in from the cool weather after spending an hour on the phone with three different people it struck me just how important; necessary it is to share our stories. I'm here just a few days and I already need to tell my stories; not just to give a news report, but for emothion health, to share the presense of God in the midst of everything.
So many of the stories tell of God's relationship with the people telling the stories. Good News abounds! People want to be a witness.
I think instead of asking someone, "What is your story?" perhaps I will invite them instead by saying, "Tell me your Good News!
Tom Fehr
Having just come in from the cool weather after spending an hour on the phone with three different people it struck me just how important; necessary it is to share our stories. I'm here just a few days and I already need to tell my stories; not just to give a news report, but for emothion health, to share the presense of God in the midst of everything.
So many of the stories tell of God's relationship with the people telling the stories. Good News abounds! People want to be a witness.
I think instead of asking someone, "What is your story?" perhaps I will invite them instead by saying, "Tell me your Good News!
Tom Fehr
Friday, December 1, 2006
Bluegrass, Cheeseballs, and Dancing Dell
a LiTTLE HuMoR GoeS A LonG WAy.
After devouring a considerable amount of pizza, we all headed off to Grace Lutheran Church in Long Beach Mississippi for a fun filled night of "bluegrass" singing. Not that I am complaining, but after being trapped in a 12 passanger van for six hours today, sharing everyone's carbon dioxide, I was ready to get out and burn a little energy. I don't think those people at Grace Lutheran really knew what hit them tonight!
So walking into the church, the first thing I remarked was that there was a cheeseball and cracker spread at every table. There was an overload of homemade cookies and brownies, there was tea, coffee, hot cocoa; it was truly a Lutheran culinary spectacle! Why did we eat dinner before coming? Of course there would be food!
Now I am not excactly a modest or shy person, but I thought my behavior on the trip thus far has been perfectly compsed and tempered. (Some of my tripmates will probably disagree). But as soon as those banjos and guitars started going, I was off, slapping my knees, hooping out, clapping and stomping my feet. The Holy Spirit was infectious. Soon, people were taking the lead, jumping out of their cold metal folding chairs and began dancing and kicking up their feet. We started a congo line, and even some of the older members got up to dance around the floor with us. "Clap, Clap, Clap, 'Choo-Choo!'"
One particular man really struck my fancy. His name was Dell. He is a white haired, 81 year old, dressed all in black with the boots to match. When he smiled he revealed a fine pair of sparkling white dentures. I could literally see him grinning from across the room. AND this mand could dance; this old man could dance circles around all of us young fools. He had perfect foot work, and he strutted and circled his way around, not trying to show off too much.
I had the pleasure of waltzing with him. (This was the first time in my life when I didn't actually have to take the lead). In fact, Dell grabbed and pulled me around the dance floor by the back of my bra strap. That was kind weird, but I didn't want to have a boundary conversation with an 81 year old man in the middle of my first waltz. Dell and his wife moved to Mississippi from Canada and have spent some of their leisure time taking ballroom dancing lessons, and it showed. He made me feel like a 1950's country movie star!
The very next song, the suave man in black swooped up his dainty wife and twirled her around the floor. All of us youngins' stood watching, cheering and whooping for Dancin' Dell. "Got get em Dell!" we yelled.
It was a wonderful evening. Even Pastor Ruth got out there and took a few turns. It was amazing to see the Spirit move us all; every one was laughing, singing, clapping and dancing.
We have been informed that our ministry in New Orleans and Mississippi is mostly about Spiritual care. I was able to see tonight how far a little foolishness and humor goes in a room of people who have lost the will to relax and enjoy their lives. I pray that we were able to lift their spirits and bring a little healing into their lives, if only for the one night.
God's Peace and Happy Blessings to All of You.
Leah Whitaker
PS. I miss all of the Christmas Decorations already, there is a serious lack of Holiday Cheer down here.
After devouring a considerable amount of pizza, we all headed off to Grace Lutheran Church in Long Beach Mississippi for a fun filled night of "bluegrass" singing. Not that I am complaining, but after being trapped in a 12 passanger van for six hours today, sharing everyone's carbon dioxide, I was ready to get out and burn a little energy. I don't think those people at Grace Lutheran really knew what hit them tonight!
So walking into the church, the first thing I remarked was that there was a cheeseball and cracker spread at every table. There was an overload of homemade cookies and brownies, there was tea, coffee, hot cocoa; it was truly a Lutheran culinary spectacle! Why did we eat dinner before coming? Of course there would be food!
Now I am not excactly a modest or shy person, but I thought my behavior on the trip thus far has been perfectly compsed and tempered. (Some of my tripmates will probably disagree). But as soon as those banjos and guitars started going, I was off, slapping my knees, hooping out, clapping and stomping my feet. The Holy Spirit was infectious. Soon, people were taking the lead, jumping out of their cold metal folding chairs and began dancing and kicking up their feet. We started a congo line, and even some of the older members got up to dance around the floor with us. "Clap, Clap, Clap, 'Choo-Choo!'"
One particular man really struck my fancy. His name was Dell. He is a white haired, 81 year old, dressed all in black with the boots to match. When he smiled he revealed a fine pair of sparkling white dentures. I could literally see him grinning from across the room. AND this mand could dance; this old man could dance circles around all of us young fools. He had perfect foot work, and he strutted and circled his way around, not trying to show off too much.
I had the pleasure of waltzing with him. (This was the first time in my life when I didn't actually have to take the lead). In fact, Dell grabbed and pulled me around the dance floor by the back of my bra strap. That was kind weird, but I didn't want to have a boundary conversation with an 81 year old man in the middle of my first waltz. Dell and his wife moved to Mississippi from Canada and have spent some of their leisure time taking ballroom dancing lessons, and it showed. He made me feel like a 1950's country movie star!
The very next song, the suave man in black swooped up his dainty wife and twirled her around the floor. All of us youngins' stood watching, cheering and whooping for Dancin' Dell. "Got get em Dell!" we yelled.
It was a wonderful evening. Even Pastor Ruth got out there and took a few turns. It was amazing to see the Spirit move us all; every one was laughing, singing, clapping and dancing.
We have been informed that our ministry in New Orleans and Mississippi is mostly about Spiritual care. I was able to see tonight how far a little foolishness and humor goes in a room of people who have lost the will to relax and enjoy their lives. I pray that we were able to lift their spirits and bring a little healing into their lives, if only for the one night.
God's Peace and Happy Blessings to All of You.
Leah Whitaker
PS. I miss all of the Christmas Decorations already, there is a serious lack of Holiday Cheer down here.
A new normal...
This is the second time I have been down here and I have to say that the immediate shock and sorrow hasn't left or changed for me. As I look around at the 'rubble' of houses and churches and schools and businesses that are just a heap of stone, I can't even begin to ponder what that means for those who live this everyday, all the time.
And as I look deeper and get beyond myself and my own fears and frustrations, I can see the signs of hope, the signs of new life, the signs of a new or a growing normal. Driving home from Long Beach, Mississippi tonight we passed more and more houses with Christmas trees in the front windows, with manger scenes being set up, or with a simple string of white lights. Each of these lights seem to glimmer with the hope and promise that we are all given in Christ. That even amidst the most intense and destructive storms (whether natural or societal) Jesus is walking with all in the clean up, in the rising up, in the rebuilding, in the rebirth. And sometimes Jesus is the only persitant or ever-present reality in the midst of governmental agencies that are failing, social-service agencies that are being stretched beyond their limits, or church organizations sadly failing to work as a whole body and saying things such as, "We'll help our own, and expect you to contribute." Hmmm...
Yes, even we the church are failing here...but the new birth that is budding here is clear evidence that when we are able to step aside and let God work, new life begins. Yes, we work, pray, live, sleep, dream, and hope in and through Christ alone. And it is in that that we are called, as 'agents of Christ' working through various organizations (whether LDR, or LSS, or Habitat, or whatever) to be Christ in the world at all times - in the pounding of the hammer, in the clearing of debris, in the small devotional prayer, in the buying of boiled peanuts.
That's what this is all about. And for this gift of time and service we say, Thanks be to God!
Living boldly,
Kim Conway
And as I look deeper and get beyond myself and my own fears and frustrations, I can see the signs of hope, the signs of new life, the signs of a new or a growing normal. Driving home from Long Beach, Mississippi tonight we passed more and more houses with Christmas trees in the front windows, with manger scenes being set up, or with a simple string of white lights. Each of these lights seem to glimmer with the hope and promise that we are all given in Christ. That even amidst the most intense and destructive storms (whether natural or societal) Jesus is walking with all in the clean up, in the rising up, in the rebuilding, in the rebirth. And sometimes Jesus is the only persitant or ever-present reality in the midst of governmental agencies that are failing, social-service agencies that are being stretched beyond their limits, or church organizations sadly failing to work as a whole body and saying things such as, "We'll help our own, and expect you to contribute." Hmmm...
Yes, even we the church are failing here...but the new birth that is budding here is clear evidence that when we are able to step aside and let God work, new life begins. Yes, we work, pray, live, sleep, dream, and hope in and through Christ alone. And it is in that that we are called, as 'agents of Christ' working through various organizations (whether LDR, or LSS, or Habitat, or whatever) to be Christ in the world at all times - in the pounding of the hammer, in the clearing of debris, in the small devotional prayer, in the buying of boiled peanuts.
That's what this is all about. And for this gift of time and service we say, Thanks be to God!
Living boldly,
Kim Conway
Some pictures - Day 1 & 2
The team, after talking with Pastor Barb Hunter at Grace Lutheran in Long Beach, Mississippi.
Adam, earning his way - as we carry away the pieces of a fallen tree in Mary's yard.
Many urban myths are flying saying, "Things should be redone by now." Well, the reality is that they are only just beginning. This is just one of the hundreds of houses or remains we saw on a tour on Friday morning.
This is a class, but it is really about ministry and relationship. This is Vivian, and she is just a gem that reminds us why we are here and who we are called to be, as children of God.
Kim too, can carry the logs with the best of them. She even taught us how to use scrap rope or yard hoses to create a bundle and carry more. Quite resourceful!There will be more...still trying to coordinate various camera connections, etc...
Kim C.
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