I apologize first for doubling up on another blog, but I just needed to today. To say the last couple of days have been business as usual or anything close to normalcy couldn’t be farther from the truth. People are still walking around parts of town in a daze, wondering when they might wake up from this nightmare. Today was my first day out to cross over the public boundaries to do relief work, and I don’t think anyone could be fully prepared for a moment like this. Our car ride was silent as we drove back into a neighborhood I thought I could remember or navigate. It’s hard to do that when there are no mailboxes, street signs, or houses.
Steve’s wife- and I just forgot her name and didn’t want to make one up, so I’ll try and remember it for later- was the first one to show up to the house after we had started working. Our group had heard this was a devastated area, so we showed up, pulled into a cul-de-sac, and just got to work. She showed up about an hour into us clearing out her yard and tarping her roof, and just sat and told us pieces of her story. She and her husband, Steve, were both at home when the tornado came through and thought the winds would surely blow their house completely down. They were able to escape with only one tree through the edge of their house, so there was still hope to salvage their house.
After we finished clearing out the huge trees that were uprooted and scattered throughout the backyard, Steve returned home. All we had left to do, for now, was put a tarp on the roof and work to the next house. Since I wasn’t on the roofing crew, I pulled Steve aside to talk for a while, and my emotions weren’t fully prepared for our talk. I asked him how things were going and how his family was doing. He told me that his mom lived about two blocks away and was hit pretty much as bad as he was. Steve then said it was nice to have some family a little outside of the city that he and his wife could stay with. All the while, he kept a strong demeanor and was very confident about rebuilding. And then the conversation turned.
He started telling me about his siblings and how his oldest brother was one of the forty plus confirmed dead from the storm. With a straight face, he told me he had given his older brother the trailer and was helping him with a place to stay for a little while. Steve then told me he was the one the family relied on to handle the funeral arrangements, still with strength and confidence. I asked him his brother’s name, and before he could mouth the name, his demeanor broke. He tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t get his brother’s name out of his mouth. I just stood there in the driveway beside him as he recounted memories of his brother’s life. It sounded like he really looked up to him.
I couldn’t imagine facing all that Steve and his wife are having to face this week. What do you even begin to say to someone that lives less than five miles away from you that lost everything? This isn’t some foreigner on the mission field that I’m reaching out to, this is a neighbor. It’s not that I hold my neighbors in higher regard, but it’s the fact that if that storm would have rerouted even two miles, Steve’s house would be standing, his brother would be alive, and my house may have been the one hit. It wasn’t because I prayed for safety, I may have not even prayed that day at all come to think of it. It wasn’t because of my strength in Christ, because there were so many people praising God in the debris that used to be their homes. I don’t seem to have any answers, but I guess it was a good thing Steve wasn’t asking any questions. He was just talking.
I don’t know why things happen the way they do. I’ve given up trying to find the answer to that. I just adapt, adjust, and work my tail off. When Steve left, he came back to me and apologized because he hadn’t talked anything about finances or estimates. When he saw the confusion on my face, he asked what company we were with. When I told him we were independent, he then asked if we were with a church. I told him we all went to church, but the only name we’ll claim is Jesus. He said he liked that answer and he’d be back to pay us later. I told him there was no need, because if he was coming back to pay, he’d never be able to find us again. I could physically see some of the weight lift off of his shoulders, and I had all the strength I needed to keep the job rolling. And that’s a blessing, because we have a lot of work to do.
