River of Stories

This week has been a time to slow down and listen to the storied currents swirling around me. Every city, large or small, is a holder of the collected stories of the people who live there; New Orleans is certainly no exception. This place, where the dichotomy between poverty and wealth is clearly seen often places them within a neighborly reach of each other. Yet, the overriding theme I have heard in a slow southern drawl this week speaks of the path from tragedy to victory, testifying to God’s goodness along the way.

Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast in 2005. The impact was felt all along the region as water and wind rushed into the area leaving failed levees, flooded communities, and extreme damage in its wake. People found themselves in impossible situations, not being able to hear from or contact family for weeks, and feeling intense relief as they finally heard the voice of a loved one; even while realizing homes and businesses were destroyed. Lives were changed forever.

The stories of the devastation are still fresh in the minds of people who survived the storm. The losses experienced of people, pets, homes, businesses, plans and investments are still felt. However, in the midst of the losses, the continuation of the rebuilding of the city is shown through the hard work of restoration moving ahead with purposeful intensity.

Listeners might expect such stories to end in the loss and frustration found in the face of such a storm. Rather what is heard is an undeniable hope and resilience in the face of damages. Stories swirled around, as vital as the waters in the Mississippi River weaving through the city, pointing over again and again to the overwhelming goodness of God. Deep, heartfelt thankfulness spoke to those who have embraced the ability to participate once again in the day-to-day normalcy of life.

I loved hearing the stories of people, resilient faith tested by fire and water, coming out shining and beautiful through the forge of Katrina.

Scanning the Skies for a Covenant

Recent flash flooding has devastated portions of Eastern Kentucky. People have been left without homes, mourning tragic deaths, celebrating heroes, scrambling to meet needs and raising their eyes to scan the sky and river banks with every new thundercloud breaking into rain. When out driving, it is easy to find evidence of mud slides and a few sharply curved corners where the road has crumbled. After another gully washer two evenings ago, I watched impromptu waterfalls form to race down cliff faces. Those who have been impacted, either directly or through concern for loved ones, experience apprehension with each new rain storm.

Just two nights ago, sitting back on a deep porch and relaxing in a rocking chair, I watched one more storm break across the sky before going to bed. I admired the beauty of the lightning and watched the reflection of the porch lights in the light rain. Though for me that summer thunderstorm was quite enjoyable and relaxing; I could not help but think of those not very far away who must be looking at this storm with trepidation. 

The storm wasn’t the only thing in the sky that day to catch my attention; a rainbow had appeared as well. With subtle color, it was nearly lost to view after being disrupted by a cloud. Subtle or no, it reminded me of the covenant that it shows us. A covenant, a promise or commitment, is shown in that and every rainbow. This promise was made when the earth was very young and recovering from a terrible flood. Genesis 9 tells us that the rainbow was provided as a “sign of the covenant between (God) and the earth.”

We all have storms and floods that occur in our lives. Sometimes we can sit on the porch, enjoying rain cooled air and the lightning show. There are other times when we are buffeted about and swept down in the currents of the floods. But in each, I keep my eyes open to look for the covenant of hope, seen in a beautiful but quiet display of dispersed light across the sky. I love seeing God’s promises, quiet and beautiful, made for us to take notice and comfort.

“And God said, ‘This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.’”  Genesis 9:12-16

Chainsaw Chorus

A storm blew in a few days ago. It blew in, blew through, and blew some things over.  When the storm blew past, a chainsaw chorus started to play around the neighborhood.  Chainsaws started playing at their various pitches from all around.   The song of a storm became the song of a neighborhood cleaning up, the sound of people checking on each other, the sound of recovery occurring.  There was a death in our community with this storm, and there is also the sound of grieving losses of something that is not replaceable. 

Picking up some branches, listening to the chainsaws, I thought of the song that resonated with me with the last tornado, “God of Wonders.”  A severe storm, not one of my favorite natural occurrences by any stretch of the imagination, does serve to remind me that God is indeed a God of wonders.  Some of those wonders the very dangerous storms.  And, once the storm has passed, He is the God of wonders as we start loving our neighbors.  The song of the storm, the song of the chainsaw – it’s the same chorus of the wonder God who teaches us to love Him and our neighbors.