Judy Surfaces

This is quite an adventure, not unlike my work in Sierra Leone. I've learned over the years, that one rarely gets what they think they've signed up for when doing mission work. But, then, that's all part of the learning experience. Amidst the devastation, it is essential to find a little bit of beauty, a significant amount of laughter, and a hint of joy. It's a challenge, but it can be done if we choose to focus on God in our midst, His all consuming love and ever present grace. There are large clover, healthy and green, growing out of a 2 foot hight pile of dried sewage in the play yard at the Women's Shelter. There are graceful, snow white cattle egrets looking for mice in the leveled lower ninth ward. The Amazon Parrots sqawk in the palm trees which overlook all that's been swept away. An elderly black man has a perpetual station at a huge hole in the pavement, his ministry is to warn passing motorists and wave with a "God Bless You" as we pass by. The cloud formations blowing in from the gulf are sculptures in the blue sky. Flowers bloom in the front yards of homes that no longer exist. A young man in our room is up at 6:30 strolling the halls waking us with the smoothest tenor sax I've ever heard. And there are smiles, lots of them, on the faces of all we serve. There is unbounded gratitude and endless thank you's, with hugs freely received and given.

Is this a terrible place as some would say? I would say no. It is a beautiful place where terrible things have devastated people and places and where terrible things continue to happen. It's a place where we ask many questions. How will the city and its poor people recover? How will families reunite when they are spread across the country and have no homes to which they can return? When will the next hurricane come? How much havoc will it wreck before the Katrina work is even 10% complete? How do people get up in the morning when they have nothing to get up to? How do we convince the school system to spare the expense to run the buses to the lower ninth ward for the handful of children there who need to go to school, children whose parents lost their cars and can't spare the money for bus fare because they need it for food? Who cares that these kids aren't in school? How are marriages reconciled when out of despair and depression, alcohol and drugs lead self-medicated spouses into abusers and fornicators? How do we effectively intervene in family theft rings where children steal for their parents, steal from volunteers? How do we make an impact working with a group of poorly organized anti-establishment kids who really don't appear to want professional help with program management and systems implementation? The questions go on and on, and we may ask, "Does prayer really help?" If it does, and we know there are millions of people praying, where are the results? Where is God in all of this? Why can't He just say, "wah lah! you are healed!" These people want to know; how do we answer without giving lip service? So many have lost their faith, and yet so many, like our new friend, Joanne, from the Women's Center, has found faith and her new family at St. Anna's Episcopal Church. We must all choose to see God in our midst, working in the lives of the survivors and the volunteers.

Can we still laugh? Can we still experience joy? Of course, if we maintain perspective and don't allow ourselves to become prisoners to the sadness, anger, helplessness, and fear of it all. We will do what we can do, and we will do it with "gladness and singleness of heart". We will work our backsides off during the day and we will rest and recharge our batteries in the evenings with quality time in the French Quarter...great Creole food, beignets and chickory coffee, browsing through funky shops, and wandering through beautiful neighborhoods. We will laugh at the fed-up ER triage nurse who exploded when someone slid the whole clipboard through the paper slot in her door. We will laugh at the absurdity of the PVC quasi shower set-up with the ice cold water. Although we should be horrified, we will laugh when volunteers are told the water isn't safe to drink, but it's ok to brush their teeth! We will laugh at the insanity of 9 toilets and 4 showers for 550 volunteers. We will laugh at the lack of essential priorities, such as toilet paper! We will laugh at ourselves when we have a trunk full of food and a non-existent address to which it is to be delivered. We will laugh at Michael when he slips into his southern boy accents and expressions. We will laugh at my wild curly red hair which looks like it went through the hurricane. We will laugh at Vivian trying to learn a southern drawl. Yes, we will laugh because we need to. It's ok. It doesn't show disrespect or insensitivity. It shows that we care enough about the people and our work here to take care of ourselves. This is hard, very hard, but there is joy in our midst. Thanks be to God!

Thank you for your prayers, your support, and your love.