staying in touch

Word this morning from Johnny Wray, executive director of Week of Compassion, to the WOC Advisory Committee ('board'):

Dear Friends –

Just as we remember the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, we’re preparing for a storm (Gustav) that could be every bit as dangerous. Josh Baird (WOC special hurricane rep and our site manager at our Slidell and Covington missions stations) will be arriving at our farm in MS later tonight til the storm blows thru. Carl Zerweck has been in touch with our other stations and is making the necessary precautions and preparations. We have ample des. hurricane funds to make quick responses to our churches and members that might be affected and to help facilitate the responses of CWS and our many long term recovery partners throughout the Gulf South that we’ve been working with these last 3 years. And we’ve already begun responding to partners in the Caribbean (esp. Haiti and the Dominican Republic) who are already responding to the damage Gustav has left behind there. As they say – pray for the best, prepare for the worst. Will keep you posted.


I replied, as a board member, but also in behalf of the congregation:

Obviously we’re all keeping an eye on news and weather reports. As Gustav lands, let us know what Geist can do. All of our folks that have been on work trips the last three years have been saying ‘I can’t believe they’re going through this again’ – awareness is high, and generosity will be too when needed.

If you need ME somewhere, or US, you know how to reach me.

As our congregation prepares for the unbelievably exciting and joyous occasion of becoming 'one church in two locations,' it's humbling to know that so many may look to us for help, and hope. What a powerful time to expand our ministry.

I hope you'll check back to this blog site often. I'll post news - and NEEDS - as it comes through.

In prayer, with hope ...

what to say?

With eyes and ears glued to the news and weather reports, our land-locked midwestern community holds in prayer our friends in and on the Gulf Coast.

As Hurricane Gustav - moving through Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Cuba at category 4, downshifting to a 3, and expected to leapfrog back up to a FIVE before making landfall anywhere and everywhere from the Texas to Florida borders - nears the gulf coast states, what on earth do you say?

Those in our community that have served on mission teams since August 29 2005 when Katrina struck (and Rita two weeks later) have been talking to each other all weekend: "I can't believe they're going to go through this again." "I hope people choose to evacuate this time." "I wonder if the cities will be able to help (especially those who can't help themselves) get away in time." "I'm so worried about John and his mom ..." "Andre and Otha ..." "Miss Simmons ..."

It's not just 'the people who live there.' Now it's people we know. By name. Their houses, their belongings, their stories ... we know them now.

And we still don't know what to say.

We hope it is sufficient - we hope it will make do - that our most fervent prayers, our deepest compassion, our greatest blessing ... may THIS be the wave that covers our brothers and sisters in the south. May they know our love, be spared in life and limb, and when the time comes, may they know the quick and gracious response of all who can - and will - step in to help.

"Now I see..."

In addition to our church member Carol Gebhardt, our little trio of workers was rounded out by my close friend Angelique Codarmaz Rainey. The night before we left New Orleans, I asked Angelique if she'd write down some of her thoughts from and about our mission week ... It was a great gift to share the week with her ... I want to share her words with you.

"Passion begins with a burden and a split-second moment when you understand something like never before. That burden is on those who know. Those who don't know are at peace. Those of us who do know get disturbed and are forced to take action." -Wangari Maathai, Winner of Nobel Peace Prize

Courtney shared this quote with me, as we prepared our dinner back at the mission station, the last night that we all shared in New Orleans. It brought into focus all the swirling thoughts that had been collecting over the last few days for me. There was just so much to be seen, so many stories to hear, so much to sort out and so very little time.

I had never been to New Orleans. I never saw the beauty of the famed city for myself. I always meant to but never did. Then Katrina became a front page story, a daily headline and a national scandal. I felt a sense of loss having missed my chance to see this historical gem in all its glory. Time went on and the headlines faded from the press, with only an occasional mention of Brad Pitt or Harry Connick Jr. I let it slip from my mind as well. Until I needed a vacation.

I decided to go on a mission trip and I didn't really care where or when or what I would be doing, it was just time to go. Thank goodness my preacher friend Courtney had just the plan; a mission to New Orleans for hurricane relief. 'Awesome!' I thought. 'I can finally see this cool place I had always wanted to go, and do something for someone else at the same time.' And here I sit feeling completely ignorant.

It is just shy of the third anniversary of this natural disaster. Three years since countless Americans lost their lives, their property, their control, their hope, and their faith in a government they waited upon for rescue. They still wait. They are just now coming home. Some are just now finding a way to BEGIN to start over. For them it is still going on. It is still a nightmare. For them it is nowhere near over.

Our group worked on the home of a mother and son. Their 100-year-old shotgun double had survived the storm and the flood and the chaos that followed in the months it took the family to regain the means to come home. We sat during our lunch breaks and asked Andre about his experiences, and he told us. He spoke of how he survived the storm alone. How he worried when he lost contact with his family. How he was shuttled from one place to another with no knowledge of where his family was, where he was going, or when he would get back. He told us how he was encouraged to make a home away from his beloved New Orleans. And he told us how important it was for him to be back home. His mother Otha talked about having to move six times since Katrina. She spoke of how excited she is to prepare to move this one last time, into her beautiful 'new' old home. When we posed for pictures with Andre and Otha, Andre said over and over again, 'Show everyone these pictures. Show 'em so they know we here and they need to believe our stories. Show 'em, 'cause we still here."

On our tour of the lower 9th Ward, the most devastated of areas within the city, we met a man named Michael. His story was no less heartbreaking. He and his house were washed away in the storm surge. He spent 13 days at the Superdome with severe injuries before receiving care. His home destroyed, he had no reason to return, except that his mother had owned that property before him and now he owned it outright. He wasn't about to be told to find a new place to settle. So there he sits, the only house on his block surrounded by a meadow of tall grasses and wildlife where once there was house after house filled with families and pets, neighbors and friends. They are no more. He is alone and broken-hearted.

And now so am I. Now I know this burden. Now I see what is yet to be done. Now I see that for most of you it is over enough to never give it another thought. Now I see that I will never be able to put it out of my mind.

House after house is marked with a sign that says 'Don't tear us down, we're coming back' or 'We are rebuilding'. But those homes have been sitting vacant for three years now. They haven't found the resources to make good on that paper promise. Faith-based relief services like the ones that organized our trip are the ONLY ones helping these people keep their promise to come home. FEMA is long gone. The news media is long gone. It is the Church that is still here fighting for the spirit of these survivors. It is the Body of Christ that continues to show mercy and love to those of our brothers and sisters who are still in so much need.

I beg you, before you sleep tonight say a prayer for the comfort and healing of your brothers and sisters in New Orleans. If you have the time or talent, come to New Orleans and lend a hand. If you have treasure, give to Week of Compassion. There is still an urgent need for help.

the desert shall bloom

Praise God for balance and perspective. Tonight I was reading a friend's online journal, about being with his 80 year old brother this week and his 4 month old grandson next. It caught me at the same time, and in the same place, as the stuff I've been dealing with while away this week.

There's the whole swirl of being here in New Orleans ... what we're doing, who we're meeting, what we've seen, the stories we hear ... and then there's the counterbalance of "the real world." (Like it gets more real than this?)

I generally try to really release 'work' when I'm on mission trips, in order to focus ON mission. But as you know, the mission focus at Geist Christian Church for the last -- well, several years, but especially the last several months -- has been living into the vision of one church in two locations. That means, travel or not, I need to stay connected, check and answer messages, catch up on little tasks in the evenings at the end of the mission work day, etc.: Something was forgotten, can we get together to talk about, and oh can you also such and such, and so and so won't be able to whatever, and there's a question about this or that.

And then I also have messages that: this will be ready no problem ... this couple would like to join a Sunday School class ... this guy has offered to be a greeter if we still need them ... this woman wants to join a four-year intensive bible study and is it okay that she's not a church member ... the meeting on Tuesday night is fine, everyone has great ideas coming together, ready to sit face to face and sort through ... thanks for your help with that volunteer list ... looking forward to talking about a new mission opportunity for our family, a way to serve together.

It's just such a blessing to have that swell of goodness to come in and drown out the bits and pieces that jump up and clamor for attention, seeming a lot like tasks and only a little like ministry.

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. (Isa 35:1-2)

Pray that the people of the gulf coast would know a new kind of ocean in the ironic desert the floods left behind.
Not the ocean that overwhelms with waves of destruction and currents of devastation and need. Not the dried up three-year-old remnants of forgetfulness, feelings of helplessness and inconsequence welling up. May there be for them - and for all in need - an ocean of kindness, mercy, integrity, and compassion, running waters of hope and justice through their desert of sorrow.

get ready, get set ...

... to get ready and get set.
It felt like we never quite hit 'go' today, though it IS Day One of work.

One of the big lessons of mission trippin' is that Your schedule isn't really so much up to YOU.

> There's orientation. No matter how many trips, no matter how big (or small) the group, no matter which agency, everyone gets a review of what's going on, what's planned, how things work, reminders about the 3S's and an F: safety, sensitivity, Spirit and flexibility.

> There's acclimation. Get the directions, follow one group to their site and see it and hear about what they'll do, and then follow again to your site and see it and find out what you'll do. And once you're there, see what the group before you did, didn't, kind of did (and sometimes really shouldn't have that you now end up UNdoing).

> And there's deviation. You think since it's already a short work day, so you should cram in your lunch and jump right back up and get a move on. But there's a homeowner there who needs someone to just sit still a few minutes and let him be frustrated about the condition of the neighborhood, or the attitude of the neighbors, or the injustices of the system, or whatever. That's part of your work, too ... knowing when to refrain from working.

So at the end of the day: "I feel like I didn't really do much today." Ohhh, but you did!
- You met another group from another church in another state, here to share in the same big-picture project that you're blessed to be part of.
- You got the lay of the land, instructions on all the tasks, and figured out how to get back and forth between 'home' and 'work' - and where the available 'facilities' are in between!
- You cleared the work space and found the supplies and figured out what is missing and still needed and organized the punch list to fire off right out of the gate in the morning.
- You met a homeowner, and learned that his mother and brother owned the double-shotgun-home you're working on, that his brother passed just before the storm, and that his sister-in-law and nieces left when the storm came. He'll live there next to his mom now, in this brand new home.
- You learned patience with yourself and flexibility with circumstances outside your control, and that compassion vastly outweighs spackle as a contribution to a project.
- You met the next homeowner in line, who came to work with you today, because her house is ready for her to work on it, but she is in town (from Chicago where she's been nearly three years) and wanted to help someone who was getting ready to move home.
- And you prayed: For a meal prepared with love. For the blessings of the day. For the peace to endure frustrations tomorrow. And for the blessed opportunity to offer some measure of comfort on a rainy and blustery day.

Not bad for a 'short work day'. Well done, good and faithful servant. It is an honor to serve with you.

annnnnddd ... we're back!

Truth be told, we've been back to the gulf coast - three times! - since last this blog was published:

CYF (high school youth) - July '07
TrueNorth (all men's trip) - September '07
Selah (all women's trip) - February '08

and yet your faithful associate minister (and blogger), was not so faithful in that task, for which I vastly apologize. Later this week, look for photo albums from those trips, and terrific reflections from the youth on the 7/07 trip. (Man, it's embarrassing just to type that!) (* Edited to add: Ha! And even more embarrassing, you'll have to look for them NEXT week 'cause the drive? With those files? Is sitting on my kitchen table. Oy vey.)

Now that we're back - literally - again, we'll have photos and news and notes for you throughout the week, as we try in whatever small measure to offer the gift of ourselves, and the love of Christ - and from Geist - to the amazing souls of New Orleans.

For now, a night's rest. Work starts at 8:00am.

You are in our prayers, and we know we are in yours.

re-entry

The day after we returned from Covington, standing in the Great Hall ... in the middle of a beautiful space and a loving and welcoming congregation, Myrta said, It feels weird to be here. Like I shouldn't be. It's not real here. I nodded and smiled, and had to agree.

Space shuttle missions have taught us the word "re-entry," that period on the return leg of the mission where things have to line up just right in the atmosphere and the technology or everything gets knocked out of whack ... sometimes, as we've seen with unspeakably tragic consequences.

Same in returning from mission trips, we've learned. There's a bit of 'burning up on re-entry' (clearly not the same painful extent - I dare not take the analogy that far). But while your body is tired from the good work of the great week, your heart and mind are still with the people you met, and the people you saw, and the things you experienced. It's a surreal return adventure, and sometimes it takes a bit for everything to line up, in your soul, like it should.

Then again, maybe that IS how it 'should' be. I think it's that re-entry that keeps it fresh for those who go, and makes us long to return ... and take others with us. There is more ... plenty more ... to be done. I hope you'll join us.

May 12 - 19: Lake Charles
July 21 - 28: CYF (high school youth), New Orleans
September 15 - 22: McComb MS
November 10 - 17: Algiers/New Orleans

(Coming soon! The Covington/Chalmette photo album to be added to the menu at the right. The mystery Gulfport album has been floating around too, but should link from the menu as well!)

like I said

Ronnie and I were talking about his neighborhood, his few streets tucked away in Chalmette, Louisiana. There are probably 25 houses on his block and the next. He says EIGHT of his neighbors have returned. "I think that everyone who's coming back, IS back."

If you see a trailer, there's a family in/working on that house. Many are close. Few are done. Most are still. just. sitting there. That's kind of hard to fathom, isn't it?

But, it sounds like they're right on track with what population surveys are suggesting.

Hard to believe...

... that getting 2 (mudding and sanding) of 3 (plus painting) parts of the week's intended task accomplished is still labeled "really great work". (Our project leader IS a rather generous soul!)
We started the week excited to clip through the mudding and sanding of drywall in the 2br/2bath house. By week's end (we start home this (Friday 3/9) afternoon), the fact that we've mudded and sanded every bit of drywall (1600 sqft of house) within an inch of its life means that the walls are totally dead set and ready for the next group to roll up its rollers and paint. (And I'm here to tell you ... those walls? Are smoooooooooth.)


... that two people you met on Sunday afternoon could, by Friday afternoon, be two people you just hate not to take home with you.
Of course, Rich and Dona DO live in Indy, so technically ... Two members of Speedway Christian Church, who have each made multiple trips to assist here in the coast region, literally could not be more wonderful if they tried.
> Rich, brave soul that he is, spent the entire week with this 'women's mission trip' gang from Geist ... having decided on Thursday last that he would leave on Saturday morning at oh-dark-whatever with Dona ... so that she didn't drive on her own, and so that he could put in another week's giving to Ronnie and Janet, special and wonderful folks that they are.
> Dona, it must be said, is all the good things you hear about and want in the people you meet, wrapped up in a teeny little package. Turning 77 just this Tuesday (it was birthdays-a-plenty this week!), six-months widowed and yet determined not let any bit of her fire go out, Dona is on her third trip to be part of Louisiana's recovery. With an eye for perfection like none other, Ronnie and Janet's home has been in good hands these many weeks. And Dona will be back to check on them when Speedway sends another group in a few weeks.


... that a church of 50 members would be home to hundreds over dozens of weeks.
Since the storm, 18 months ago, Grace Disciples of Christ in Covington LA (directly north of New Orleans, on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain) has been a mission station. As the Shards Ministry (more to come) attests, amid brokenness, even the very brokenness of Christ, we find our oneness. Tending first to its members and faith community connections, then opening its doors, its showers, its kitchen, its halls and floors and sanctuary and very heart to hundreds of complete strangers, since Day One.

In jeeps and vans and cars and RVs, they descend upon Grace, these groups ... and yet, safe to say that moreover, grace descends upon them. All churches should be so open, so welcoming, so love-one-another.

Grace -- both the church and the concept -- also makes it hard to believe ...

... that everyone we know hasn't already put a date on their calendar, dug out their work gloves, and packed a bag.
What
ARE
you
waiting
for?