hurricanes and help...
My parents took me to Mexico the summer I graduated from high school. Really, it was just our family vacation. You're probably thinking, "What high school grad wants to go to Mexico with their parents?" Me! I have always, always, always loved traveling with my parents, and so the fact that they actually wanted to take me to Mexico with them was a real treat.
Half way through our vacation week, we learned that a hurricane was brewing and headed straight in our direction. The thing about hurricanes is that, while you know they're coming, the category and amount of damage isn't always easy to predict. They can pick up speed, slow down, or change directions in a hot minute. Hurricane Emily was predicted to hit before we left but was downgraded to a tropical storm. Taking precaution, all hotels on the beach were evacuated and travelers were moved inland. We found ourselves in the middle of Cancun on a sweltering, hot summer day. The shelter provided for us consisted of a very simple concrete compound. It was actually a school, but not the kind of school most of us have attended. The only airflow in and out of the rooms came from the windows because there was no electricity. There were bathrooms, which seemed to be more similar to outhouses in my opinion. The compound was secured by broken glass bottles that lined the perimeter and stuck out from the top of cement walls. And because space was limited, we couldn't bring our belongings with us. Each person was allowed a few things in a small bag. We ended our vacation by sleeping on the ground next to complete strangers, packed like sardines into the small rooms, and all we had to eat was sandwiches and fruit. Hot sandwiches and fruit, I might add. We sat and we waited for the storm to pass. Nothing happened until the sun went down, and when we left in the morning, water had left its mark everywhere.
I remember driving back to the hotel wondering if our things were still there. Thankfully, flights to America were leaving and so we could go home. Others were not as fortunate. The water had made it up to our room, but no serious damage was done. Grabbing our bags, we were more than eager to get to the airport and back onto Texas soil. Never mind that we looked like we'd been drug through the wringer and definitely smelt like it, too. All we cared about was that we were safe and that we were going home. There's no place like home, is there? A place where you find rest, comfort, solace, and security. We landed in Dallas with hopes to be home before night fall. No such luck. Flights to Lubbock had been canceled, but we received hotel and food vouchers. It was one of the best meals I have ever eaten, followed up by one of the best showers I have ever taken. We would be home in less than 24 hours, and we'd have every thing we could want or need when we got there.
I looked at images online yesterday of homes that were sitting in water. I couldn't shake the thought of how I would feel leaving my home and hoping it would be there, along with all of my possessions, when I returned. I know they say things are just things. But let's be honest, being without our stuff puts us in a stressful and vulnerable place, especially when it might be days, weeks, months, or possibly forever. We're in the thick of home renovations. A lot of our things are still in boxes. Of course, like most people, we have more than we need and living this way proves that to be true. Our house doesn't quite feel like home, but it's getting there. Slowly, surely, and with great expense. Both time and money. And as I looked at these pictures, as I thought about what it must feel like to be in that position, as I read of the need for help and thought about how our lives have looked over the past few months, I was conflicted.
It shouldn't have even been a second thought, really. If it were me in that boat, literally, I would be desperately praying God would fill the hearts of people with generosity and a deep, burning desire to give. Because how else would we make it? God is our provider and I know full well He can make something out of nothing. I mean, look at the world around us. That's proof right there. But when the stores are closed and you aren't home, then what? How is your baby going to get her formula to survive? And what about diapers? Who cares what clothes you have on as long as it's something. But when you need a hot shower, soap to clean off the gunk and the germs, a toothbrush to rid your mouth of day old breath, where will that come from? From the hand of God, and from those who are God's hands and feet.
And so why did I stop? Why did I think about it? Because August has been an unfortunately expensive month for us. If it's not one thing it's another around here. This is broken and that is broken and the trips to Lowe's keep adding up. And then there's the car that has had virtually no issues in its 7 years of life but has decided to make up for that in a few weeks time. The diapers are expensive, the formula is, too. Only one source of income means that we have to be all the more careful, and I thought to myself, "Well, Texas is a big state. A lot of people will help. My little contribution probably wouldn't matter anyway."
But the Lord didn't let me settle there. I took a hot shower before I crawled into the world's most comfortable bed last night. I woke up to the strong smell of fresh enamel on the walls and ate breakfast with HGTV playing in the background. My little gal crawled all over the floor, opening every drawer in door in the room, and I realized that no matter how much I think our bank account has taken a hit this month, that's the only thing that has. How fortunate are we?! There's no excuse to live in comfort and abundance while watching others suffer. After all, the only reason I can give is because the Lord has given to me. And He can and will take care of the giver and the receiver just the same.
I pulled down the supersized box of diapers I bought in advance, on sale (of course), and I threw them in the trunk of my car along with hygiene items that I hope will be a blessing to the hands in which they fall. It's not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, but God is in the business of using things in grander ways than we could ever imagine. I'll never know where they end up. I'll never know if someone was able to use those bars of soap and enjoy a much needed, long, hot shower. I'll never know if that little wet bottom got relief from those diapers. But what I do know is that God uses all things, even storms, for His glory. In fact, it's usually in the storms where we see it the most. The grandest displays of His power and His love. Of His goodness and of His kindness. And when God's people choose to be His hands and feet, to give as freely as they have received, God's name is made known in a great and undeniable way.
"But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you. O Israel, the one who formed you says, "Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy one of Israel, your Savior." - Isaiah 43:1-3
Half way through our vacation week, we learned that a hurricane was brewing and headed straight in our direction. The thing about hurricanes is that, while you know they're coming, the category and amount of damage isn't always easy to predict. They can pick up speed, slow down, or change directions in a hot minute. Hurricane Emily was predicted to hit before we left but was downgraded to a tropical storm. Taking precaution, all hotels on the beach were evacuated and travelers were moved inland. We found ourselves in the middle of Cancun on a sweltering, hot summer day. The shelter provided for us consisted of a very simple concrete compound. It was actually a school, but not the kind of school most of us have attended. The only airflow in and out of the rooms came from the windows because there was no electricity. There were bathrooms, which seemed to be more similar to outhouses in my opinion. The compound was secured by broken glass bottles that lined the perimeter and stuck out from the top of cement walls. And because space was limited, we couldn't bring our belongings with us. Each person was allowed a few things in a small bag. We ended our vacation by sleeping on the ground next to complete strangers, packed like sardines into the small rooms, and all we had to eat was sandwiches and fruit. Hot sandwiches and fruit, I might add. We sat and we waited for the storm to pass. Nothing happened until the sun went down, and when we left in the morning, water had left its mark everywhere.
I remember driving back to the hotel wondering if our things were still there. Thankfully, flights to America were leaving and so we could go home. Others were not as fortunate. The water had made it up to our room, but no serious damage was done. Grabbing our bags, we were more than eager to get to the airport and back onto Texas soil. Never mind that we looked like we'd been drug through the wringer and definitely smelt like it, too. All we cared about was that we were safe and that we were going home. There's no place like home, is there? A place where you find rest, comfort, solace, and security. We landed in Dallas with hopes to be home before night fall. No such luck. Flights to Lubbock had been canceled, but we received hotel and food vouchers. It was one of the best meals I have ever eaten, followed up by one of the best showers I have ever taken. We would be home in less than 24 hours, and we'd have every thing we could want or need when we got there.
I looked at images online yesterday of homes that were sitting in water. I couldn't shake the thought of how I would feel leaving my home and hoping it would be there, along with all of my possessions, when I returned. I know they say things are just things. But let's be honest, being without our stuff puts us in a stressful and vulnerable place, especially when it might be days, weeks, months, or possibly forever. We're in the thick of home renovations. A lot of our things are still in boxes. Of course, like most people, we have more than we need and living this way proves that to be true. Our house doesn't quite feel like home, but it's getting there. Slowly, surely, and with great expense. Both time and money. And as I looked at these pictures, as I thought about what it must feel like to be in that position, as I read of the need for help and thought about how our lives have looked over the past few months, I was conflicted.
It shouldn't have even been a second thought, really. If it were me in that boat, literally, I would be desperately praying God would fill the hearts of people with generosity and a deep, burning desire to give. Because how else would we make it? God is our provider and I know full well He can make something out of nothing. I mean, look at the world around us. That's proof right there. But when the stores are closed and you aren't home, then what? How is your baby going to get her formula to survive? And what about diapers? Who cares what clothes you have on as long as it's something. But when you need a hot shower, soap to clean off the gunk and the germs, a toothbrush to rid your mouth of day old breath, where will that come from? From the hand of God, and from those who are God's hands and feet.
And so why did I stop? Why did I think about it? Because August has been an unfortunately expensive month for us. If it's not one thing it's another around here. This is broken and that is broken and the trips to Lowe's keep adding up. And then there's the car that has had virtually no issues in its 7 years of life but has decided to make up for that in a few weeks time. The diapers are expensive, the formula is, too. Only one source of income means that we have to be all the more careful, and I thought to myself, "Well, Texas is a big state. A lot of people will help. My little contribution probably wouldn't matter anyway."
But the Lord didn't let me settle there. I took a hot shower before I crawled into the world's most comfortable bed last night. I woke up to the strong smell of fresh enamel on the walls and ate breakfast with HGTV playing in the background. My little gal crawled all over the floor, opening every drawer in door in the room, and I realized that no matter how much I think our bank account has taken a hit this month, that's the only thing that has. How fortunate are we?! There's no excuse to live in comfort and abundance while watching others suffer. After all, the only reason I can give is because the Lord has given to me. And He can and will take care of the giver and the receiver just the same.
I pulled down the supersized box of diapers I bought in advance, on sale (of course), and I threw them in the trunk of my car along with hygiene items that I hope will be a blessing to the hands in which they fall. It's not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, but God is in the business of using things in grander ways than we could ever imagine. I'll never know where they end up. I'll never know if someone was able to use those bars of soap and enjoy a much needed, long, hot shower. I'll never know if that little wet bottom got relief from those diapers. But what I do know is that God uses all things, even storms, for His glory. In fact, it's usually in the storms where we see it the most. The grandest displays of His power and His love. Of His goodness and of His kindness. And when God's people choose to be His hands and feet, to give as freely as they have received, God's name is made known in a great and undeniable way.
"But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you. O Israel, the one who formed you says, "Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy one of Israel, your Savior." - Isaiah 43:1-3
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