Flooding Feels Like Forever

As a kid, I remember our house flooding twice.  The first time, we were watching outside, thinking the rain would come in through the door.  Anyone who has ever been in a flood knows water doesn't work that way.  You walk into your room, thinking everything is okay because you've checked outside and the water, while over the curb, isn't at your front stoop.  

You take a step and squish.  The carpet is damp, as in wet like when you drop a glass of water and have to blot it up and get to the deepest amount of wet, wet.  At that point, we all ran screaming, scurrying to put everything in our closets and on the floor onto our beds, to unplug everything.  "Save my books! Save my stuffed animals! Save my records!  Save my shoes!"  These were the over hyper thoughts of a seventh grader when the water began to rise above the carpet and saturate our house.

My father loaded us all into a John boat and put on his waders used for hunting and pulled all four of us and my mom and our dog down the street to a neighbor who had a two story.   Not really getting it, my brother and I asked if we would have school the next day.  When the answer was no, we started dancing, celebrating.  We asked if we could take intertubes to float down the street.  The answer was again no.  So we spent the rest of the next day watching our neighbor's cat get really irritated at seeing fish swim across the kitchen floor while it sat on the counter.   I remember my father quoting The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, "Water water everywhere, and not a drop to spare." I thought of the book, Winnie the Pooh.


When we finally made it back to our home, it was weeks before something like normal returned.  We had throw rugs on the concrete slab and had to step over the doorways where there were wooden planks with carpet nails sticking up.   Lots of stuff was just gone, and sometimes we wouldn't recognize what went missing and be looking all over only to remember, oh yes, that got lost in the flood.  We flooded a second time, though not as bad.  We knew what to expect, we also knew how to recover, so it went faster.  We also had flood insurance, so that made it easier too.

The bottom line is, when you flood, it is an unimaginable mess with months, not weeks of recovery time.   There are all sorts of secondary problems once the water recedes, once it is no longer dramatic national news.   Mold in the insulation, lost treasures that have no value insurance wise, but mean something to you, pictures, books, all sorts of odds and ends get lost in the process because water so coats everything it touches.  

It helps to get a sense of things, how bad is it?   

I've lived in Baton Rouge for one summer, the landscape of Louisiana is such that when there isn't a main road, there often isn't another road.  It's part of the logistics of living in that area of the country.  I-10 is a long stretch of road with cities every hour or so, and smaller places you can't get to on I-10 except by going to the bigger places and retracing your steps.   It's part of what makes flooding in this area of the country so devastating.  You can't get to all the places, at least not by car.   

So please, if you can, give something to help out those who right now, can't even begin to do damage assessment.

Here's a link to Catholic Charities USA, where you can go to give direct aid to the victims of the flooding in Louisiana.   And thank you.

Be Part of the Mercy

Nothing makes the idea of praying for your enemy seem more absurd than recognizing, you have an enemy.   Watching the attacks unfold in Paris, it's hard not to want to find the people responsible, and give them what they've given.  

But if we want a world that is not burning with rage, we will have to be better than that. I read Cardinal Parolin's talk about going on the Spiritual Offense with Mercy.  I thought, that is the best way to battle the incivility of the age.   This doesn't mean being syrupy or saccharine or a doormat.  Mercy is at its core, a radical muscular decision to turn the other cheek. It is Christ on the Cross saying, "Father, forgive them."

So I hope no government will change their political policy toward the oppressed and afflicted because some people who share a religion in name, but not in practice, tried to make the world burn.

 If you want to know how to engage in spiritual battle against the type of thinking that imagines and enacts such evil acts as took place last week in France and Beruit on the 12th, and in other places, I recommend Sr. Theresa Aletheia Noble's article on the subject.

Knowing a few people in Paris, I sent an email when the attack first happened.  My contact wrote back how grateful she was for the show of support from around the world for the people of Paris, and how it heartened her on a dark day when it seemed, humanity favored letting the world burn.  Little gestures matter.  It is an incarnational reality of being human.  We understand when someone loves us by their words and their actions.  It means something to my son to see his siblings cheering as he runs.  They can't make him run one second faster. They can do nothing to affect the outcome of his efforts, except to encourage.   It still matters.

So pray, fast, give alms, welcome a refugee if you have the courage and the means..  When a great evil is inflicted on the world, the world cries out, "It shouldn't be this way." and the world is correct, because it was created to be something far more beautiful.   Lastly, if you're still feeling protective, still feeling nervous and concerned, "We don't help refugees because they are Christian. We help them because we are Christian. Are there microscopically small risks if we do? Yes. But there are astronomicaly graver and more certain consequences if we refuse: "Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me..."    

 To be charitable involves risk. It must. It's not misleading to say, we are called to be the good Samaritan. What it is, is difficult, which is why many of us, move to the other side of the road, or pretend we don't see the man left by thieves. It's not a lecture to recall Christ's words to us, when we ask the question, "Who is my neighbor?" in an attempt to justify ourselves. It is the Holy Spirit calling us to action, and our fallen will, wrestling with whether it will hear and answer, or ignore and walk by.

The world will be on fire one way or another, on fire with hate or love.  Be part of that beauty, and the world will shine with mercy.

Hurricane Sandy Wake Up Call

Back in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina swept through New Orleans, the day after everyone thought they'd dodged a bullet until the levees broke. 

If you didn't know then, getting to New Orleans is only possible via a few routes, the biggest being I-10 which stretches for hours inbetween exits.   We had friends who had family in the most threatened areas and they drove to my parents home to wait out the storm and its aftermath until Hurricane Rita made everyone evacuate from my home town for the same reasons.  

I remember in the weeks following, there were constant news casts and the 1-800 number for Red Cross flashed across the screen almost continually.  The NFL did a pitch during Sunday games and everyone was invested and involved in trying desperately to show they cared.  

Like past hurricanes, it isn't necessarily the size or the wind that did the most damage, it's the water.  Hurricane Ike eliminated the Bolivar Peninsula as I knew it back in 2008.  It is still recovering. 

Now, Staten Island has been destroyed.  I am looking at the television.  I am listening to the news.  I hear reports of tragedies and anger and frustration and politics and opportunism and blame and the like.  I do not see the united cry for the nation to wake up and be generous. 

So here's my little part.  Here in the year of faith, these are our neighbors. They need clothes, food, heat, light, warmth, shelter, comfort, a hint of normal.  Wake up. 

Here are the numbers:

Red Cross: 1-800-733-2767  or here's their website: Red Cross.  (I know some people are really mad at the Red Cross but they still do good work and it's up to you to decide where you will donate your money). 
Catholic Charities USA: 1-800-919-9338 or Catholic Charities USA.
United Way: United Way  (I couldn't find a phone number on the site).

Want to do more? 

1. Give blood.  (It's always needed).
2. Contact friends in NY/NJ/CT and the like and check in. Ask what is needed.  Even if they're okay, they're close to where the need is, so they might have a better sense of what is needed.
3. Ship it...whatever it is. 
4. Hope for good weather for all involved in rescue and coping and clean up.
5. Pray for all who must live with the aftermath of this storm. 

We're not supposed to only give when we're moved.  We're supposed to give in excess of our depth of feeling, because love isn't a feeling, it's an action which requires more of us than what we would otherwise allot if allowed to simply go on our own impulses.  When we are generous, it is an act of grace, and we are cooperating with the Holy Spirit, being the hands and feet of Christ by clothing, feeding, nurturing the hungry souls around us.  Today being the feast of All Souls day and Friday, offer up the pizza you would have had for dinner to make life easy, to make someone else's life that has just been hit pretty hard, a little easier. 

I'm now going to sign off and go figure out what to defrost for tonight's meal.