Here we go again....

For the third consecutive weekend, we prepare for Sunday worship with storms close to the forefront of our minds. (If you are tired of reading about the storms, imagine how we feel living it.)

Two weeks ago we spent Sunday afternoon making final preps for Gustav. Last week we had just gotten our power back and were concerned about this storm named Ike that was headed our way. This weekend, it turns out Ike is not going to come directly to us. But we will be close enough to feel the inconveniences. I will be amazed if the storm passes and we do not lose power, possibly for a few days again.

Once again our little town is a major evacuation route, this time the traffic is heading east instead of north. We still have a major National Guard deployment in town and last night we noticed dozens of power trucks filling up an empty parking lot, presumably ready to leap into action after the storm. It was just in the last couple of days that our stores had finally restocked their perishable items. You can't help but wonder if we will go another week with empty shelves.

But like I said, this storm does not seem to have our name on it. But as those of you who live in the hurricane zone well know, there is a mental fog that eventually invades the mind in these days. So much to do. So little to do. Focus seems out of the question. (It is possible that is not true for vast numbers of people, but it seems true for me.) I am grateful for a couple of good days of study earlier in the week.

The up side is that our family will spend some extra time together, since there is not much else to do. And that's not bad at all.

Life After Gustav -- Wednesday Night

Power is slowly returning to our town. Our house got power back yesterday afternoon, but as we went to bed yesterday it was reported that 91% of our town was still without power. We sort of felt guilty for having power when so many others did not.

Meanwhile, our church still has no power. This afternoon the staff met at church and using a small generator for lights and gas to cook, we cooked up everything in our church freezer then delivered it to folks still without power.

But this lack of power, this 19th century life, is not all bad. In the aftermath of several storms I have witnessed a very unique bloom of community. Having been cooped up for several days and now without electricity people emerge from their homes. Neighbors seeking breeze begin to shoot that same breeze with one another. They check on each other and seek to help in any way possible. Damaged roofs are tarped even when the homeowner has evacuated and is not home. Generators are shared. Yesterday a neighbor whom until this week I have only waved to from my driveway to his, walked across the street to invite my family to take showers at his house since he had functioning hot water. It is really a wonderful thing to watch.

Then the power comes back on and we return to our cocoons.

We have begun to hear some sad stories in the wake of the storm. We have had several fatalities from tornadoes following the storm. One of these, a twenty one year young lady, is related to several folks in our church. Another church member worked with a man who was killed cutting down a tree in advance of the storm.

Tomorrow we will continue to address storm issues and also begin to think past the storm.

Waiting for Gustav in SW Louisiana

Here is SW Louisiana we are watching, waiting….and talking. For thirty of my thirty eight years I lived in the hurricane zone of the Florida and Louisiana coasts. In this part of the country we have four seasons just like everyone else, except we drop winter and add hurricane season. (Instead of making snowmen, we become experts in weathermen.)

There is a very unique energy that accompanies the approach of a storm. Everywhere you walk you hear the conversations and the storm related laughter. Then, prompted by some invisible signal the community takes the crisis seriously. You have never been to Wal-Mart till you have been to Wal-Mart during the run up to a storm!

At this time, the plot for the storm seems to be heading right for us or just a tick to our west. We are about 50 miles inland, but it looks like it could be an interesting week. Three years ago our church suddenly became an emergency shelter following Katrina. We housed several hundred people in our fellowship hall for weeks. It was beyond what appeared to be the limits of our facility and our people. But it was not beyond the limits of what God could do through a willing people. When I came as pastor a little over a year ago, the experience remained a defining moment for many people in our church.

At this time other resources are supposed to be available in our community and we do not plan to have the same role. But we watch and wait. Ready for whatever God would have for us to do.