You hardly know whether to laugh or to weep...
I am supposed to write about our experience in New Orleans for 1835 newsletter for Clara. Today. I know I have to write something, but my procrastinator self has been delaying things and forgetting things in between of meetings, appointment with tree cutters, clogging-oil on eye lid, mural sketches, the two library visits, never ending phone calls, never ending research on foreclosure, skim-reading Ron Snider's books, two sketches of Over-the-Rhine steeples, myspace-ing, blogging, and not to mention cleaning and eating and sleeping and showering.
And then I came across the sentence I used for the title that I read in Buechner's book (Buechner is the writer of the week in my world). And I thought I could start something here, in my blog. Buechner was talking about the moment Jesus shared for the last time with his disciples when he said, "in a little while you will not see me anymore, in a little while you will see me." Such an odd sentence Jesus said (like it's a surprise!). Later on he described that Jesus was talking about the joy that came after sorrow, his resurrection, and his presence in the Holy Spirit.
That reminds me, how God has the power to turn sorrow into joy. How in most of the cases of what's going on in this fallen world, He has the way to create goodness amongst sadness. Joy in sorrow. Increase compassion and relationships among people who otherwise won't be connected in the world and decrease selfishness. How the trip to New Orleans had changed me was profound. I came worried that my motivation was not pure enough; that I came there to feel good about myself instead of glorifying God; that my reason to come down there was to give me a good 30th birthday present to myself that I had done something for God; I came to feel that my job is not good enough for me to work for God when no evangelism involved. But I left with more friends, I left with more compassion toward the people, I left with understanding that, well, what can we do with the (every) government, they just can't do anything right but there is God who can do everything right, and all He needs is our willingness to be His hands and feet. And I left with my motivation cleared out. I left with understanding that, where I am is where God needed me the most, in my (work) gutter, where the people outside church need to know that Jesus loves them and He (still) lives. And I left with a blind faith that God is big enough for our problems and I don't need to carry around the burden on my shoulder.
Clara said to have this under 250 words. How can 250 words contain what I experienced in New Orleans?
So, this might be the draft.
Jesus is inviting you to become His hands and feet to supply his people down in the neighborhoods of New Orleans with compassion. That's all you need to bring, in addition to ability to smile with an open heart. I went with the last crew in April, and before we left the church, Neal prayed to open our hearts so that Jesus would tell us what He wanted us to be when we were there. Neal said not to come with expectation, because God might have other plans.
So, you might be a wheelbarrow, a greeter, a sausage opener, a hugger, a listener, you might be a shovel, you might be a nail-plucker, you might be a weed trimer, you might be a jambalaya stirrer, you might be a coleslaw maker, you might be a server, you might be only a dust among other people who had gone there with similar concern as you are, you might be a baseball player in a field never been touched since twenty months ago.
You might be, the precise, special person, Jesus needs to bring love and compassion to the exact, special person whose been hurting, to the much needed area that would take more time and energy and love to bring it back to life.
I wish numbers could turn into faces, for us to know this is life, not just some lame statistics, but here's the facts of what happened in New Orleans, twenty two months after the hurricane Katrina:
- Less than half of the city's pre-storm population of 460,000 has returned, putting the population at roughly what it was in 1880.
- Nearly a third of the trash has yet to be picked up .
- Sixty percent of homes still lack electricity.
- Seventeen percent of the buses are operational.
- Half of the physicians have left, and there is a shortage of 1,000 nurses .
- Six of the nine hospitals remain closed.
- Sixty-six percent of public schools have reopened.
- A 40 percent hike in rental rates, disproportionately affecting black and low-income families.
- A 300 percent increase in the suicide rate.
I don't know whether I should laugh for my renewed spirit and compassion for the people of New Orleans or I should weep with them knowing the grieve that still need observing.
Please pray and ask God if He wants you to go and what He wants you to be. If He does want you to go, He'll give you a way. And please call or email NealWhiles for the detail, he'll be glad to have you join the love crew. Remember the saying that the love we received only to increase when we gave away love? It's true.
--- So, that's probably the draft. I have to check on the most current progress to incorporate in the writing. Boy, that was quick. Twenty five minutes!