Suffering Souls

In September of 2008, Hurricane Ike paid a nasty visit to the Gulf Coast. We had evacuated our home, traveling across the state to safe and welcoming shelter. I didn’t return for a few weeks, unsure of what I’d find as I drove toward our small bayside community. News reports, videos and check-ins from neighbors prepared me. Or so I thought. My brain said the loss was only of stuff. Hard, tangible and touchable stuff. My heart reminded me that my family, loved ones and friends were okay. But deep down in my soul there was an unnamable confusion of grief, fear and anger which later would be misdirected and inappropriately expressed. Ike had washed all manner of ruined items across the island. The destructive winds were nothing compared to the towering storm surge that ran a wall of water inland and back. The path of Ike was similar to that of the 1900 storm that killed a very fuzzy estimate of 6,000 to 12,000 people, still recorded as the deadliest natural disaster in U.S. history.

As I silently suffer with and for friends and strangers over the devastation caused by wind-whipped fires in California, I am reminded of loss. Loss of a way of life. Loss of conveniences. Loss of trust in the future. Loss of loved ones. Loss of certainty. Loss of stamina, energy and even hope. Loss of confidence in our ability to control circumstances upon which our lives depend.

I live in a world made comfortable, warm and safe by earth, wind, water and fire. None are tamed to our commands or even wishes. More and more often, natural (and unnatural) disasters remind us that each and every day, every physical thing, every relationship no matter how dysfunctional, is a gift to be cherished and noted with an offer of thanks.

I cannot imagine the deep sadness of all those grappling with a new reality of nothing where there was once so much, all ripped from their lives by flaming fingers that reached so far and so wide. Gone are homes, schools, worship houses and businesses. Gone, too, are the things held within; comforts and luxuries, programs, daily routines, promises of improvement through education and shared faith spaces, and convenience of supplies and provisions. The very necessary air breathed in to sustain life may be hazardous and even deadly.

Gone is any sense of promise that all tomorrows will be days of comfort, safety and joy. We, who were not directly involved, at least not this time in this disaster, can ignore that reality so deeply buried in our cores. We can carry on as if nothing has changed; continue to buy more things to make our lives easier, prettier and more desirable. We can bury that looming sense of what if, where is next and who will suffer under our cozy blanket of pretend security as we believe the fantasy that we are in control and such hardship will not befall our own community or family.

Suffering any loss, especially at the hands of a natural disaster, has a way of altering one’s state of mind. After Ike, I felt as though a magnifying glass had been held high above my home, reducing parts of it to a smoldering and worthless pile. Buried beneath was a flickering spark of hope. Even as I stood on the water’s edge and watched the pages of beloved antique books flap and deteriorate in the lapping waves. To this day, I imagine a powerful force named Ike reading those complete works of Dickens in his old age. Ike stole so much from so many. In comparison, I grieved so few things in his wake; the dollhouse my dad made for our daughters and my bicycle that I rode from Houston to Austin in the MS 150, most notable. Gone, too, was a faulty perception of a peaceful seaside life.

And yet, when I remember our years on the coast, Ike is a footnote to the history of forever friendships begun and forged to an unshakeable bond. My wish is that one day, perhaps many years from now, the raging fires that ushered in this new year will be a footnote; that joy and hope and courage and faith will be restored for all the suffering souls. And that we all remember that human connection is the most valued gift, especially in times of trouble.