9 days ago, my roommate woke me up at 7:03 am to tell me that church was canceled and Publix was closed. Confused, I got up, checked social media (where i found no helpful information), and got in the shower to start my surprisingly-free Sunday off to an early start. After slipping on some baggy sweatpants and grabbing my favorite blanket, I made a cup of coffee and headed out to the porch- cell phone in hand, waiting to find out what could be so serious that church had to be canceled. Within those first 20 minutes of my morning, my newsfeed, and quite frankly, Columbia, had completely transformed. Carson and Hannah joined me on the front porch as we began to watch videos of roads washing away, cars floating into the distance, and buildings that we passed every day being brought to destruction of violent currents of water. At the time, the top of our worry list was whether school would get canceled on Monday. As we sat there on our porch looking at our somewhat soggy yard, we had no idea that the city that we loved so much was about to experience an event that would be recorded in history. A dreary Sunday morning with a fuzzy blanket was only the beginning of an experience that I would share with my children, just as my parents have shared stories of Hurricane Hugo, 9/11, and other catastrophic events that happened before I was old enough to understand their full affect. We spent the next two days locked in our cozy home watching movies, eating cookies, and wondering if the nightmare surrounding us would ever end. We watched the news and took mental notes as deaths began to rise and homes continued to fall. We were fortunate. Other than our lack of clean water or road access to our city, we were perfectly comfortable. We were kept safe and warm within the walls of a little grey house with teal chairs on the front porch. As the time passed, the situation became much more than an excuse to cancel school. It became much more than the inability to take a shower or drink out of the tap. This never-ending supply of water, confusion, and honestly, inconvenience, became the families who were now homeless.... the business owners who no longer had a building to run.... the mothers and fathers and aspiring adventurists who were quickly watching their hopes and dreams wash away into the swirling waves of an unending rain.
For the last 9 days, I have felt my heart break for those surrounding me. I have heard stories of great loss, seen photos of unknown desperation, and I have been reminded of the deep-set darkness of the world in which we live. A world where money is worshiped, possessions are praised, and everything we work so hard make for ourselves can be taken away by drops of water falling from the sky.
Even in all of this, I have still felt detached, unaffected, and separated from the destruction around me... That was, until about an hour ago. Carson walked into the house with a look of surprise on her face, quickly telling me that there was a fire somewhere on our street. We jumped into her car and drove down 2 blocks until we were met by fire trucks and thick, black smoke. A crowd was beginning to gather around the house as the flames broke through the roof and reached with their heat toward a sky that had finally dried up. Firemen worked hard- climbing across the roof through red flames and running through a front door of darkness. Moments later, a woman pulled up next to where we stood, screaming that this was her house, and frantically pulling her little daughter out the car seat. I would guess she was two and a half. "We have 2 dogs!!", she screamed, as she searched around her, looking for a piece of hope to hold onto, and finding nothing. After about 7 minutes, a fireman carried out a beautiful dog... sandy white fur stained red from the moments within the flames. Two firemen began to care for the dog and after a while, the woman brought her daughter over and sat with their beloved friend. Carson and I stood in an embrace, and after a few more minutes and no sight of a second dog, Carson looked at my tear stained face and asked if I was ready to go home. I was. We drove home and brainstormed the different ways that we could help, discussing the responsibilities of the neighborhood and friends. No matter the conversation, I could not slow down the thoughts that were racing through my head...
I spent my day at work stamping letters and searching for event venues as the background was filled with wise words from Matt Chandlers current series, "The Apostles Creed". Like usual, I took in each word and wondered if it was true of my life. I wondered if I honestly believed in God's truths, or if I only knew them. I thought about the insignificance of so many "important" things in this world, and I sat disgusted at myself that I could be caught up in so many things that have no eternal value- a life of worshiping money and praising possessions... possessions that are burned up by fires and washed away by floods. And so I sit on my porch, amazed at God's provisions, and humbled by his mercies. Mercies which are made new every morning alongside my cup which overflows with grace.
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