A week ago today, I spent what was our second day of clean up after Hurricane Katrina came through South Florida. My family and I all came through fine, thank God — more than a bit shaken but overall well. Last Saturday, we had no electricity, phone or Internet service. We fortunately had fresh water, but it was warm to drink and way cold for a shower. The food in the refrigerator was already spoiled and melting into a mushy mess. It was over ninety degrees outside with one hundred percent humidity. Our house felt like a cinder block oven with no way for the air to circulate. And there were wet, dirty, smelly towels everywhere because of the leaks we had and the feet and paws that tracked in mud and leaves. Piles of leaves, branches and debris were strewn all over our yard and the neighborhood. Many trees, some very large and grand, lay uprooted across yards, sidewalks and roadways, and cars. Many still are.
On that Saturday, along with everything else going on, I realized that there was a good chance I would not get to watch the Loving Relationships webcast class today. It would have been the first time I missed a broadcast since they began over four years ago. Even when I didn’t have fast access or receive the video stream, I still tuned in. But, this weekend didn’t look like it was going to happen for me. The news reports said we wouldn’t have power for a week, and phone and Internet could take a month. I took comfort in knowing that at some point in time, God-willing, I would be able to watch the archive , and until then, I could tune “in.”
Last Saturday night turned out to be extremely hot. I woke up around one in the morning soaked with sweat and having trouble breathing. My husband was sleeping, and my children were at friends’ houses where they had electricity. My dog, Parker, an eight year old black Lab mutt, was panting so loud I could hear him from another room where he was laying on the tile trying to cool off. I was worried about his health, as well as my own, and decided to get some air in the backyard. Parker, and his best buddy, Lucky, eagerly led the way.
It was pitch dark outside because there were no street lights or lights of any kind for many miles from our home. There was no breeze that night. But the grass was cool and the air was a bit more breathable than inside my house. I drank a bottle of water and offered the dogs their water bowls, which they lapped up. I laid down on a lounge chair and both of the dogs buried themselves into the cool grass next to me. Parker stopped panting and fell asleep. Soon my husband joined me. Even though we were warned about looters and home invasions and we couldn’t see a thing as there was a lot of cloud cover, I closed my eyes, prayed, and followed some advice I heard John-Roger say at our recent Conference — don’t let anything get between you and God. I chanted God’s names and fell asleep. Although I woke up a few times throughout the night, I continued to call out to God within. Each time I fell back to sleep.
When I woke at dawn, I actually felt rested. I came inside, took a cold and very quick shower, got dressed and drove down to the National Guard station where they were giving out free ice and water. I had never been the recipient of a handout like that before. My experience more often has been to serve others and share of my overflow. But, I realized that I needed to take care of myself so I could help take care of my family as well as others. I knew that ice would help us all. Even though we could certainly afford to buy the ice, there were no grocery stores open anywhere nearby. Most roads were still impassable due to flooding, downed electrical wires, or trees sprawled across them. From our radio, I had heard that the road to the National Guard station was viable. So I decided to go.
I pulled up to the makeshift drive-thru on the Miami MetroZoo property and waited in line with the hundreds of other grateful Miamians. Twenty semi’s were lined up with guardsman all around, many of them holding rifles. The zoo was closed because of extensive damage. The moats that separated the animals from the visitors were so filled with water that they no longer served as necessary safety boundaries.
Two guardsman tossed five bags of ice and five gallons of water into the back of my car. “Have a nice day, ma’m,” they said as they closed the trunk. They shoo’d me along before I could even offer to pay for the ice and water. I thanked them several times. As I drove away, I noticed how much fun they were having tossing the bags to one another and seeing which team of guardsman could load the cars the fastest. Helping us was a game to them. I was deeply touched to be able to receive of such blessings and to see the joy in their service, something I know in my heart.
Later that afternoon, my next door neighbor’s son, Arnie, came over unexpectedly. My neighbors recently moved here from Iceland and were more than shell-shocked by the experience of the storm. We had talked some throughout the ordeal, and I hoped we had given them some useful advice or at the very least some loving comfort and support. I had mentioned to them earlier that morning that I had gotten some ice and water and offered them some. They didn’t want any at the time. So Arnie surprised me when he showed up later with a tall glass and asked if he could please have some ice. “My mom burned her hand,” he said. “It’s a little one. A cup will be enough.”
I quickly filled the cup and a large plastic zipper bag with the donated ice and handed it to Arnie. He was surprised at the size of the handout, thanked me a bunch of times, and raced home to give it to his mom. It was such a small thing for me to do, yet I felt blessed to be able to serve in such a simple way and to pass on a gift that had been given to me.
A few days ago, we got our electricity and our phone back on. Yesterday our Internet service returned unexpectedly. In Spirit’s timing and God’s grace, I was able to watch the whole Loving Relationships broadcast today in my air-conditioned home with a glass of iced tea by my side. And my dogs laying next to me. More than a few times, I took John’s suggestion to caress myself with a good cry as I was so moved by the blessings profoundly present in being able to do something so ordinary but so very, very special to me.
By the way, that same Saturday, Arnie’s younger brothers, twin boys who just turned six, both decided it was time to take their training wheels off their bicycles. Even though their mom wasn’t quite ready for them to do that and there were branches and debris all over the sidewalks and streets, the boys rode off with grace and ease and without getting even one skinned knee.
Although there is still much to clean up and our house repairs have just begun, and we are only halfway through hurricane season (this year), I am grateful for the precious reminders that John, J-R, and all of you provide in reaching out to us with these broadcasts: That we are all in this together. That we are here to love one another. And that we are to take care of ourselves so we can help take care of others. Thanks for helping take care of me.
I love you. God bless you. Peace be still. I give you my peace. Thanks for giving me yours.
Love and Light,
Teri
Other articles from MSIAers and their experiences of hurricane Katrina
A Message From MSIA’s Spiritual Director John Morton About Hurricane Katrina.
The Winds of Change and a Baptism of Renewal and Hope.
After the Storm, the Light of Loving Shines Through.
Poems by Children at the Cajundome Shelter for Hurricane Katrina Evacuees.
