Five years ago Hurricane Katrina swept through many communities reeking havoc, showing mercy to no one. I was 28 hours away (by car) living my life somewhat oblivious to the destruction that was taking over these homes, families, and communities. It is devastating to me that funds weren't allocated and communities weren't visited until September 2nd, which happened to be the same time that food and water first arrived. This is four days after the destruction took place.
I had the opportunity to travel with eight other people almost a month after the hurricane hit, to try and provide some sort of relief efforts the masses that were dazed, in shock and still hurting.
The day before we left, we still had no idea where exactly we would be going. Initially we thought Houston, then Waveland, but then we ended up in Bay St. Louis. Below is an excerpt from my journaling during that time.
"An hour outisde of Bay St. Louis you begin to see the destruction. Huge trees knocked over as if they were toothpicks. Homes and buildings destroyed with very little left that is recognizable, while others stand perfectly untouched. Cars abandoned in the ditch, some parked there while others are tossed like toys.
You can't help but wonder about the many people this has affected. What were their lives like, what is it like for them now? Will they return? Do they feel punished?
There is so much pain and destruction here. It is overwhelming trying to take it all in. My emotions are getting the best of me and my heart is swelling with sadness. How can I make a difference here? How can I ease the pain?
Camping in the middle of a Winn-Dixie parking lot, surrounded by donations and Red Cross trucks brings in masses of wandering souls aching to find comfort in all that has been lost. This black asphalt parking lot has become a temporary home for me and a place of service and comfort for many others.
We spent the day working on an elderly man's home, Renato. He built 70% of his home and despite the 10 foot stilts it rests upon, water reached the attic, creating a home of mud and mold. This man was incredibly humble and wanted to continually give us what little he had left. I spent some time visiting with him, listening to whatever he was willing to share. He told me that his wife can no longer take the sadness that comes with their home anymore. He hopes to remove the damage and pain and restore it so she will want to return. He sounds hopeful, but there is so much sorrow in his eyes. As we packed up to leave I went to shake his hand and he pulled me in for a hug. My heart broke and I began to cry with him. It was incredibly difficult to leave him standing at the end of his driveway knowing he has worked his entire life to provide for his family only to have that ripped away. I felt his loneliness and pain and that became more unbearable than the heat and humidity.
It is hard to leave Bay St. Louis. I feel that there is so much that still needs to be done. My time here is minimal compared to what it should be. There is still so much that needs to be rebuilt."
Katrina reminded us about the injustices that still remain prevalent in our societies today, but are often swept under the rug - poverty, racism, and corruption. The thing is, these things didn't go away with Katrina and five years later they are still prevalent.
We can't forget the work that still needs to be done. We can't forget the injustices. We can't forget the role we place in restoration. We can't forget that there is a Kingdom being rebuilt...
