Re-adjusting to reality

Pastor Chris summed up the trip to New Orleans in two words: powerful experience. It truly was powerful.

When I walked down my driveway feeling a bit fatigued on Saturday, I was greeted with the biggest flying grizzly bear hug an 11-year-old boy can possibly give. My son ran up the hill with a big smile full of teeth, cheeks blushing and arms spread wide open. "I missed you so much, Mom. I love you all the way up to heaven and back infinity times," he said. He didn't let go for a long long time.

Next came the dogs — all three of them. Running towards me and Charlie like we were holding chunks of raw meat or something. It looked to me as though they were smiling, too. I know at least Anna was. She whimpered and wagged her little tiny tail so hard her butt shook. She wouldn't leave my side for two days.

Now I am back at my desk in Isle, Minnesota trying to re-adjust to reality. Its not easy for me. Things have changed a lot while I was gone. Or maybe it is the way I look at them.

We all go through our daily tasks as if they are the most important thing in the world. Our issues — home, family, work, friends, taxes, politics — are all that matter. While those certainly are important items to deal with, they are, by far, not the only important things in life.

Witnessing the aftermath of natures furry just blew me away — no hurricane pun intended. Neighborhoods are still in shambles and people are still living in gutted out houses. I met William Johnson in the ninth ward. He is living in his gutted out house with no running water. There are four walls and a roof with holes in it. When I asked him why he lives there, he simply said, "Where else am I going to go? I can't live under the bridge. People die there."

Many homeless people have set up camp under a few of the many bridges in the city. The crime rate is tremendous. "Those people have guns and knives and will kill you if you have something they want," he said. They will kill for something as simple as a ziplock baggie.

Violence under the bridge aside, William said, "And this is my home. It is all I have left."

I talked with Danny in Pontchartrain Park. I didn't get his last name, because he had to go to work and said he would come back later. But we moved to another area the next day and I never saw him again. But in the 20 minute conversation we had, he told an amazing story of survival during the flooding. It was a test of faith for him, and in reality, he said that Katrina saved his life.

"See that house over there?" he pointed across the street. "We were sitting in that house during the hurricane drinking and getting high. We didn't care. I went to bed and woke up with water on the floor. ... By the time I got to the front door, the water was up to my neck. The water had a life of its own and a current rushed through my house."

He made it out the door of his house. "I swam and swam and swam. I didn't see nobody. I thought everybody was all dead. I couldn't hear anything at first but the water. There were no birds. And then I heard the screaming. People crying and yelling for help. And I went to find them."

Danny said he saved a lot of people in his neighborhood. "But I couldn't save them all," he said as a tear escaped his right eye.

"I believed in God before, I mean I knew there was one. but now, I really believe in God. I was saved so that I could help people," Danny said. "I have a purpose."

Arle Thomas, Jr. is 30 years old. He spent 4 days on the I-10 bridge with everything his family owned in a 2-foot rubber box. Violence was everywhere. When his family finally got off the bridge they were shipped off to Texas to live at an air force base. "We were treated like second class citizens. Worse even. I thought I was an American. They called me a refuge."

The people there have experienced the pain of losing loved ones. Some even saw their bodies floating. They lost their homes and treasured trinkets, family photos. They experienced shame in some of the worst ways imaginable by ordinary standards. All of this is clear when you look at their faces and see into their souls.

William, Danny, Arle and all the others we met, Robert, Marc, Chad, Steve, CJ, the lady at the gas station and more all thanked us for helping to re-build their city. Even though we were not directly helping them, the look in their eyes when they said thank you came from deep inside their hearts. For what we were doing by simply being there was giving them hope.

Hope is something we all need.

The people we met said we were helping them. What really happened is they were helping me.

There will be a story in an upcoming issue of the Mille Lacs Messenger. and there are sure to be a few more blogs as I reflect back on the trip. I am also putting a slide show together and will give a presentation sometime in the near future.

Peace.