Waiting for the Rainbow

Once the flood waters receded, life got busy fast. For me, that mostly meant babysitting so others could serve. But Saturday, Josh and I had the privilege to go work in this neighborhood.

And it really did feel like a privilege. When people say that, I usually think it's false humility. But in this case, our efforts seemed as much about making us feel better--allowing us to feel like we were helping--as they were about throwing away one lady's belongings that much faster.

(Heather Harrell, finding her grandma's Bible in her classroom. She was almost Noah's nanny, back when I thought we'd need one.)


Don't get me wrong - there is lots of devastation and lots to do (streets look like this one for miles), but it's getting to the point where volunteers can't just go do it on a Saturday afternoon. Once the house is emptied and stripped to the studs, homeowners have to wait for contractor bids, FEMA loan applications, and overall professional help. We can't hang insulation or lay sub-floors. We can't even host a family very comfortably for very long in our one extra bedroom.

In other words, we're bumping into "the long-haul" where the adrenaline has passed, people have to move on with their lives, and yet those most affected have a lot of waiting and praying to do.

Fortunately, they're not alone. The outpouring for flood relief has been unprecedented. Channel 4's telethon raised $1.6m. Hands On Nashville had more than 7,000 volunteers register last week alone. Restaurants have set up tents with free breakfast/lunch/dinner for those flooded. "We Are Nashville" t-shirts have sold out, consuming every light blue organic cotton tee in the United States. And that's just a few of the many organized efforts I've heard about.

Yesterday in church, those flooded were asked to stand. Then those who've helped. Nearly everyone was on their feet, and I don't think it was just for show. We've seen a lot of silver linings on the big black clouds that came through Tennessee 8 days ago. We're just waiting for the rainbow to tell everyone it's gonna be OK.

*All pictures from The Boston Globe