For those of you interested in Katrina, Houston, etc. here is a little update (from my perspective anyway, for what that’s worth)…
The victims of the storm have consumed my thoughts and silent prayers since the storm was predicted, and especially since two days after the storm surge when we learned of the plight of so many along the shores of the Gulf Coast (like so many others, no doubt). For those of us who lived through the Flood of 93 along the Mississippi River in the Quad Cities, we had some idea of the devastation a flood can bring to a farm community. And we were 5, 6, 700 feet above sea level (probably seems pretty low to Aunt Mary out on Pike’s Peak, but seemed pretty good to those of us on the Illinois side of the River, living in the upper hills at the time… even with the better part of Andalusia accessible only by boat). Even with the constant pictures brought to us by local and national news, I still cannot imagine a similar fate brought on all at once to a metropolis sitting right at or below sea level. I just cannot imagine. I’m sure when Great Grandpa Frieden was working with the Army Corps of Engineers back before the turn of the century to levee the Mighty Miss so that our family could farm the rich black soil of the old river bottom without fear of seasonal flooding, he did not imagine they would try to do it all the way to the ocean. But they did.
Houston is only about 40 miles from the Gulf of Mexico (give or take). But unlike the summer I moved here (2001) during Hurricane Allison, we had no ill effects of this storm. Houston is a good 350 miles from New Orleans, which isn’t so bad for a weekend excursion to the city that serves the best Shrimp Po Boys in America (yes, I have gone there just for a sandwich)… but I have to imagine is a very long long long way when you are hot, tired, wet, dirty, hungry, have seen and lived the unimaginable, and are fearful for your future.
A lot of people ended up here in my adopted home town. Houston. Houston is glad of it. Houston has (before this horrible tragedy) convinced me it is the new home of the entrepreneurial spirit of America. Here, people look at a 100,000 or so sudden influx of people and say, awesome…. more people, more creators, more engineers, more teachers, more children, more jobs. Not that everyone here is happy. People spend time blogging on the Houston Chronicle website (www.chron.com) about how little Lakewood Church is doing, for example (Lakewood, pastored by Joel Osteen, is my church, and it is not true that they are doing little best I can tell… Osteen has reportedly already raised over 700K for victims). But even those people, who spend plenty of time bashing church and God for that matter, still reportedly spend much of their time donating their last dollar and volunteering at local shelters and the Food Bank. It’s like that Christian Joke Email Forward we have all seen … where the old lady repeatedly praises God, and one day, a neighbor trying to show her that there is no God, fills her basic need for groceries by leaving them on her porch. He says, there is no God, I gave you those groceries. And the old woman says “Praise God for providing my food… and making the devil pay for it.”
God is in this place. He’s using everyone and everything. You can feel Him here. Everywhere you go. Even on the highway people seem more courteous… there are so many Louisiana plates on the roads here… but even the “Texas plates” are driving so civil, you’d think I was in Iowa, even on I-45 in rush hour. I hope the displaced people of Louisiana stay here. I pray they thrive here. I trust God that they will.
We’ve been volunteering various places… distribution centers, mass shelters… I even took a crash course in Louisiana law from the Houston Bar Association and answered phones at the Houston Volunteer Lawyers Program… temporarily displaced Louisiana folks have questions about landlord/tenant issues, credit card bills, banking, etc. Answering phones was so much more fun than going to work this morning. Thank God I could do it, even for a short while.
But the most fun thing was: there is a house 4 blocks away from mine. I started noticing Louisiana plates parked out front on the street two days ago. There were always people outside in the front yard. I’d never seen anyone near that house before. I got it on my heart to go over there; to make sure everyone was ok. I decided when you don’t know what to do… bake! An old Frieden habit I must have inherited somewhere. I baked cookies all night, and Joe & I… and Michelle’s puppy (as the designated Michelle representative) walked over there. There were 11 extra people in that house. All from New Orleans. All looking for jobs. A young woman, about my age (very young!
) was on the stoop with 3 other ladies. We almost didn’t go up, because there were no lights on that you could see from the street. But we did. We said hello. And told them about the cookies… they were still warm.
And they asked God to bless us… and told us how many many people from the neighborhood had done the same thing! And despite their tragic circumstances, they told Joe & I about the kindness of others… and their hunt for jobs, etc. And every lady on that stoop was SMILING. Can you believe it? All that tragedy and they were smiling and thanking the Lord. God is in this place. You can really feel it.
Keep praying for the families along the entire Gulf Coast region and across the U.S. who have been affected by Katrina. Keep thanking God for being in this place with the victims, with the survivors, with the residents, with the children, with their schools and new teachers, with the Government, volunteers, and leaders.
There are so many stories here. We’ll have to stay up in somebody’s kitchen all night.
God is in this place.
Thank you Father,
Andi