A Visit to Joplin

Thursday morning at 5:30 AM, my mother and I joined Mid America and other surrounding Nazarene churches to travel to Joplin. We met up with the Carthage Nazarene Church, in Missouri, before continuing our journey. With such short notice, the churches assumed we'd have 200 volunteers...we had over 600. Loaded down with rakes, chainsaws, wheelbarrows, and sack lunches, our school buses were chatty and raring to go. As we entered Joplin, everything looked normal, no sign of irregular damage.  But just as quickly as we passed through the "normal," a hush fell as sighs of shock escaped our mouths and faces.  We had entered the devestation zone. 

Words cannot even begin to pen what beheld our eyes. On one side, everything so perfect, on the other, total chaos.  As far as the eye could see, in either direction, there was utter destruction. Our job for the day was to do as much damage control as we could. But in the end, our feeble attempts were but a drop in the ocean of this undertaking.  We never got away from it, the mess. It was everywhere we turned. Even as we layed our heads down that night, the images burned bright.

They say that there are 156 people still unaccounted for in Joplin, MO (as of Saturday morning). They say that 132 people have been confirmed dead. They say they can't identify most of them.

They say this tornado is classified as an E-5, the deadlist tornado recorded since 1950, with winds up to 200 miles per hour. They say it was a "mulitvortex" tornado, meaning it had smaller tornados circulating within it.

They show pictures. They share stories.  They can't begin to do it justice, and neither can I.

Yesterday I sat for an hour typing about my experience, trying to capture the horror through flowery words and descriptive imagery. But, alas, I deleted it. It felt empty and pointless.  I tried to recount how we spent hours seperating tree limbs from debris, or how we helped a pastor sift through what remained of his belongings. I tried to capture what it felt like to hold a woman named Laurie as she clung to me and we wept.  I tried to tell of the hope we felt as we saw signs sprayed on houses "We're all ok" and yet the despair that followed as rescue dogs combed the leftovers.  But I couldn't get it right. Those memories, now etched in my heart will remain forever, unexplainable, untouchable, unbearable.

I wanted to bring this post around to something hopeful, to pull God inspiration from this devestation, and   before I went to bed last night, He reminded me of what I could share.

That morning, as we drove into Joplin, this is what He said to me through the Jesus Calling devotional:

"In a world of unrelenting changes, I am the One who never changes. I am the Alpha and the Omega, The First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. Find in Me the stability for which you have yearned.  I created a beautifully ordered world: one that reflected My perfection. Now, however, the world is under the bondage of sin and evil. Every person on the planet faces gaping jaws of uncertainty. The only antidote to this poisonous threat is drawing closer to Me. In My Presence, you can face uncertainty with perfect peace." (Scripture ref. Revelation 22:13, John 16:33)

We can't explain it, capture it, or understand it, but we can know that God is in the midst of it. May this be our prayer for Joplin as they start to rebuild. May we pray that they will know and be comforted by God's presence and that through all this uncertainty He will provide them with perfect peace.  So much devestation, so much loss, so much heartache, and not just in Joplin, all over the world.  May our hearts continue to lift up the hurting, and may we never take for granted all we hold so dear.

Among everything I learned, the most important was this- I truly can be the hands and feet of the living God, and so can you. In a hurting, dying world, the Bible says that we are to be Christ. If we have accpeted Him, He lives in us, and we reflect His glory. May we be more aware of the God we represent, the hope we can bring, and the love we can share.

To Him who is able to do immeasurably more be all glory and honor and praise.

Love.