I've hesitated to comment on the great brokenness happening in America this week, mainly because I really don't know what to say.
I watched helplessly as the events of the week began to unfold last Sunday. Watching and praying as the storm moved north. Hoping, waiting, willing it to be weakened.
Then the images, and the slow realization dawning that this was much much worse than first expected. Each day of the week bringing greater death and blackness to the news.
We watch as a nation staggers beneath a blow, perhaps greater than it's ever experienced before. We watch as she stumbles blindly through the pain of grief and loss.
Denial. "This cannot be happening. It's not that bad, really." But our eyes and ears tell us differently. They conflict with our assumptions on the normal rhythms of everyday life. We deny, we accept, we deny, we accept, moving all over the map.
Anger. "Where are the leaders? Why aren't they doing something?" We shout at the TV. We shake in rage as we see the pain before our eyes, helpless to save the dying. Another body floats past. We yell at the kids to be quiet. The rage infecting our words and homes and conversations.
Bargaining. Maybe we haven't talked to God in a long while, maybe we haven't gone to church either, but we're gonna go this Sunday. Maybe it's to receive comfort, maybe it's because of this raw anger that has come to live in our household. Whatever the reason, we go. And in going, a part of us hopes that God might bless this land again. That he might arrive and smile on us again, so that our lives and rhythms can return to normal, as quickly as possible.
Depression. A numbness sets in and anger plays just beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity. A deep level of sadness descends like a black cloud as we trudge through our days, waiting for hope that is not coming.
And finally, acceptance. We begin to accept that this is the new reality. Anger and sadness begins to taper off, just a bit. In spite of our best efforts and desires, we can't change things back to what they were before the tragedy, we can only move forward. And so we do.
Some days we will find ourselves back in the depression or the anger, but that's to be expected. It is wise to remember that grief is a process or a valley we walk through. There will be good and bad times. That's just how it is.
What can we do?
Well, if you are the praying sort why not set aside a few moments just to call out to God. "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us, we are all sinners" is a good place to start. Each time you pray it, emphasize a different aspect of the prayer. Let God lead you into other layers of prayer and intercession. Pray for life in that corner of death. Pray for families to be reunited. Pray for the healing of the lives and homes and cities and states and nation. Pray for the leaders. Pray.
Give. Reach deeply with gratitude into your wallet and send some money. There are enough national organizations collecting now so that you should be able to find someplace to direct your cash.
Go. Consider going for a month or two with organizations such as the Mennonite Disaster Service who send in groups of people to help bring hope again, when all hope seems lost. It will change you too. Be prepared for that.
The brokenness unfolding on our screens daily is enough of a tragedy. Let us not add to it by being unchanged by it all.
The name Katrina is from the German language, a variant of Katherine. It means Pure. Virginal.
Rather than read anything more into it at this time, maybe it's enough for us to let this week have it's purifying effect on us. To be sober and grateful for all we have. To draw near to God, who promised to heal the land if we would turn away from our agenda, and turn towards his.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us, we are all sinners.
