There are too many stories. How can anyone capture them all? If we take time to put them into words, we fear we’re missing something else (or we sacrifice in other ways, mostly sleep…). The team is trying to get themselves packed up and put to bed for a few hours before the bus pulls out of Hope City at 4:30 am. But I don’t want to put off sharing some of the amazing people we’ve met this week.
Take Jackie, for example. She and her mom, Beth, live in Ohio. How did they end up on our trip? Well, back in August of 2005 when Katrina hit, Jackie was 13. She watched the news in tears, and went to bed crying and wishing she could help. Her parents wisely told her to pray about it. The next day she announced that God had told her what to do: she was going to send water. Beginning with her parents’ business associates, she solicited donations from the community, her school, her church. After all the fundraising was done, she had $5,000. The next challenge was to get it shipped. Her perseverance led her to a church in Indiana where someone had a connection to a trucking company, and the company agreed to ship her water to Mississippi. But Jackie still had $2,000 left over! More research led her to contacting Hope City, and she’s been in touch with them ever since. In fact, she’s been begging to be allowed to go down to help, and finally the chance arrived. This week was her Spring break, and she’s been as tireless as any seasoned construction worker. A stomach bug got her down last night and this morning, but otherwise…what a trooper!
We were all blessed by meeting and getting to know the Kercher family. Their relatives, Darren and Annette, have moved down here so that Darren can do a two-year stint as the electrician for Hope City. Jeff, a machinist, was laid off up in Goshen, and so Jeff and Linda, along with Megan, Tiffany and Trenton, came down to help out. I wish I could introduce them all to you–maybe sometime they’ll come and visit. Jeff, a burly bearded guy with a great smile and permanent twinkle in his eye, is helping out here, there and everywhere; he always has a word of appreciation and encouragement for each of us. Linda is so funny, warm and eager to help. We instantly felt that we’d known her for years. Megan, a homeschooled senior, is gracious and lovely, a fine musician and a gentle spirit. Tiffany is more of a free spirit, and Trenton is an adorable little boy; he endeared himself to everybody in the camp. He talked Parris into playing ball, tagged along on all Buddy’s shopping trips, showed us pictures of a snow horse that Tiffany made last year, asked politely for cookies when he cut through the kitchen trailer.
Linda told me about Monte and Kim’s call to this camp ministry, and how hard it was for them to make the decision to leave Kim’s grandma, who’d been living with them for the past five years. On Wednesday this week, Kim–along with several friends who’d come down to help paint the double-wide trailer they’ve purchased to live in–left to drive back to northern Indiana. This morning, Kim’s grandma died after a sudden illness. Darren and Annette, Jeff and Linda gathered around to pray for a distraught Monte, who knew he needed to be up north to support his wife, but didn’t know what to do since he had no money to fly home and Kim had the car. Someone on our team started taking up a collection, and put an envelope in Monte’s hands on the way to the airport. Linda was in tears when she stood in the kitchen doorway talking to me. “You guys are so awesome. Did you hear what happened? You all raised enough money to pay for Monte’s ticket (over $300), with a bit over for meals for him. He doesn’t even know how much money is in that envelope. God is so good. Kim got to say goodbye to her grandma, and now God has closed that chapter in their lives and released them to move down here.”
Tonight Ken Wetzel came to visit us after dinner. Ken and his wife, Dawn, got caught in Katrina when Dawn was four months pregnant with their daughter, Elizabeth Grace. Now 13 months old, Elizabeth flirted with all of us and charmed our socks off. I’m hoping Mark will post pictures of her, and some video of Ken, when we get back. Ken’s story of how they survived the hurricane and its drawn-out aftermath was harrowing. More than one of us gasped, groaned and wept during the hour he talked to us. I won’t try to distill it for you because I couldn’t do it justice. But Ken’s experience spurred him on to pour himself out in service to others, and last August on the anniversary of Katrina he was given a Medal of Honor by President Bush in recognition of his dedicated volunteerism.
I wish I could mention every single team member: Paula, who doesn’t like leaving a job undone. Nancy, who wishes they could’ve done more repair work on the house were they were contracted only to paint. Parris, who’s been fighting a nasty cough all week, worked in the kitchen Wednesday and Thursday, and this morning agreed to be part of the last-minute crew who went and vinyl-sided part of the Wetzels’ house. Julie hates to leave, wishes she could just stay down here indefinitely. Stacey can’t make a fist with her right hand after building the foundation of Miss Ella’s house all week. Dr. Cook was still smiling when the siding team straggled back to camp at 5:45 just in time for dinner. He’s just glad to be feeling himself again. Sue had a ball working in the office the past two days, since we said goodbye to Valerie Cox. Len Moughler has a boisterous personality, a big voice and a bigger heart. If he wasn’t yelling at his team, he was teasing the cooks, always with a huge grin on his darkly tanned face. We had three pairs of sisters on the team: Laurie and Parris, Judy and Delores, Janelle and Doni. Stephanie-the-cop loves animals, and spent time each day greeting the three young dogs tied up at the back of Miss Ella’s property. She talked to Miss Ella’s son Danny as he helped them work, and promised to let him know if she ever gets married and has twins.
Five days. 35 people loosely gathered into a team, meeting up with dozens more on the staff, among the clients and the clients’ friends and neighbors. All part of a beautiful, shifting mosaic, each connection and each collaboration a work of art in its own right. And whether these connections are ever re-established in this life, every one exists in the mind of God, and forms a part of the masterpiece that He is creating of our lives.
The dining commons has gotten rowdy again. Another game of “Up the River, Down the River” (a card game which mystifies me from this distance) is going on…we’re holding on to these last couple of hours of comraderie. The bus tomorrow will be filled with whoops of laughter, sharing of snacks, exchanging of addresses and hugs. Nobody wants it to end. It’ll take time to fully process all we’ve seen, all we’ve learned. I hope that this blog has given our friends at home a glimpse of what a “church with feet on” looks like–this community, both smaller and broader than First Missionary, has made a ripple in the pond, one of so many spreading outward around this place. May this inspire others to cast themselves into whatever water God presents and become part of the masterpiece.
