Home again!

Saturday, June 4
    It's hard to believe I've spent eight days in Joplin.  The whole thing has been a bit surreal....feel like I'm in a Salvador Dali painting.  I've updated my computer, taught a couple of ladies the program and said my goodbyes.  I'll miss the ladies with whom I've worked. 
     We stopped in Galena at the DQ.  There were some people speaking flippantly about Joplin and the tornado...it made my blood boil, but then Timothy prayed for our food.  It was then I realized how much our time helping others in Joplin and seeing that destruction had affected him (and his sister).  His simple prayer for our food, the safety of the people of Joplin, their healing both physically and spiritually brought tears to my eyes.  (Side note:  nearly all of their prayers over the past weeks have included something about Joplin.  A time or two their own prayers made them cry for Joplin.  What a blessing those compassionate little hearts.)
    We made it home and literally dropped everything in the dining room and hit the hay.  I like my own bed.
     Now that I'm home, I've perused my photos many times.  I noticed in taking those pictures a theme...the American flag.  Whenever one was found it was hung up on anything a person could find - a fence, side of the house, even a stick.  What a show of patriotism and hope!  Here are just a few of those pictures.

This is one of my favorites I took.  No one placed these on the fence - the tornado did.

 These last three are not mine.  I pulled them from the internet, but I thought they were fantastic!

Discovery

Friday, June 3
     Off and running for yet another day.  I'm exhausted and the vast amount of families we've cared for along with all the stories, the tears and the pain are starting to take their toll.  Today we did a debriefing with a fella named Eric.  Fantastic man!  He is a counselor by profession and has been at College Heights to not only help out at the PSA station, but also to help out with some grief counseling as needed...and trust me, after this disaster is was needed.  He did a 90 minute session with several of us volunteers talking with us about our experiences, concerns and anything else we needed for our mental, spiritual and psychological health.  While I can't divulge anything said in the session I can reveal a few things I learned about myself.
1.  I am excellent in high stress situations.  It seems the best in me comes out then.
2.  I am a born leader.
3.  I am extremely compassionate.
4.  I am emotional to a fault, but am told this is an excellent trait when dealing with survivors.
5.  I am organized.
6.  I am calculated.
7.  I now fully recognize that God is always in control even in the midst of an F5 tornado.
8.  I discovered the best lessons my children might ever learn are in the midst of tragedy and that shielding them from everything bad is not necessarily a good thing.
9.  I learned to trust God with my children.
10.  I learned to let go of some of my fears.
11.  I discovered that in the darkest hour people still feel God, and even though people and governments try to annihilate him He's always there.
12.  I discovered that there are hundreds of thousands of good caring people all over the United States.
13.  And most importantly I felt God more than I ever had in my life.

     So...it was just another day at the PSA station.  Bibles were handed out.  Food given to families.  Tears shed.  Prayers said.  God in action. 

Joplin Thoughts/Pictures

 I have often wondered about the people behind the things I have seen or picked up to throw away.  Who owned these guitars?  Were they up and comings?  Was it a child just learning?  Was it a family heirloom?  What affect does the loss of them have upon their owners?  And yes, once again the tears find their favorite route down my cheeks.

This trashcan looks as if it was simply picked up and crumbled as one would a piece of paper.  Does the trash man who emptied this trash container have his normal job anymore?  Is he alive?  How did this tornado affect his family?  How do I even comprehend a mass of metal that many would have a hard time moving come to look like this?

 Then there are the bright spots in the days.  Here is a trio of girl scouts whose troop raised money for the kids who lost all of their stuffed animals.  That troop brought in three huge sacks of Build a Bears (which they had stuffed themselves) and one tub of beenie babies.  The girls had become so involved and attached to these bears they shed a tear or two when they left them.  Precious.

 These two lovely ladies gave me joy for a couple of days.  Meet Thera and Maureen - a fantastic mother/daughter team.  They worked like a charm together and brought us laughter and smiles.  What a bright spot in a difficult job. 

And the cards poured in!  The church received many cards from children all other the United States wishing the survivors of the Joplin tornado well.  Some were hand made.  Some were in crayon.  Some in markers, but all made with love and concern and prayers.  Some were funny.  Some heartwarming.  Some tender, but all perfect for the families who made their way through the PSA station.  The families graciously accepted these cards and they always brought smiles to their faces. 

The man sitting on the stool is Randy Gariss the minister of College Heights Christian Church.  He is getting ready to do an interview with some TV station.  He also spoke at the meeting with the president at MSSU.  I remember sitting next to him at a meeting and him saying he wished he'd never given the Governor nor the president of the United States his phone number....he was too busy taking care of people to stop and talk.  The humbleness and care of this man for his congregation and the people of Joplin is phenomenal.  He's showing God in his actions.

Ah, Kelly and Kim - sisters.  Kelly is from the Joplin area while her sister Kim is not...she came just to work with her sister...how sweet!  These two ladies were full of smiles, laughter, care and concern for the people were served.  What beautiful women from the inside out!  It was wonderful to have happiness in the midst of tears and prayers - a good balance beam act I'd say.  Kelly also helped keep my spirits up.  She was an encourager like Barnabas was and I  found myself needing that from time to time.  Thanks ladies!

Despite all of the work in the PSA station, there is a tremendous amount of work to be done out in the field.  This is not going to be a short term deal.  The city of Joplin will be affected for years to come. 

 

The latest JOPLIN TORNADO FACTS: Deaths 155; Damage Estimate $3 Billion; Homes Destroyed 6,954; Homes Damaged 875; Jobs Affected (approximate) 5,000; Cars Destroyed (approximate) 18,000; Businesses Affected (approximate) 500; Injuries 1,150; Cubic Yards of Debris Removed by the Army Corps of Engineers (as of June 19) 597,500. (From a Joplin Globe article published today, June 22, the one month anniversary of the tornado).

 Let me let  you in on a little secret....here's my favorite scripture...I'll only quote a few verses though.

Psalm 27 1-5

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the defense of my life; whom shall I dread?  When evildoers came upon me to devour my flesh, my adversaries and my enemies, they stumbled and fell.  Though a host encamp against me, my heart will not fear; though war arise against me, in spite of this I shall be confident.  One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek:  That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to meditate in His temple.  For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle; in the secret place of His tent He will hide me; He will life me up on a rock."

ENOUGH SAID!

All Alone

Thursday, June 2
     It's all me today.  We've run off Rosamary who has been running the PSA station since the beginning (a week ago).  The lady is fantastic, but has been worked to the bone and hasn't been home since she got here.  She was sick yesterday, but I am sure that comes from working from seven in the morning til way past dark.  This job is consuming to get done.  I'll be interested to see how it looks in six weeks.  Whatever the case, I'm now in charge. 
     There was a meeting first thing this morning.  It was quite odd actually.  I'm so used to working with others and not being in charge that this is a different animal.  That and I am telling folks whom have known me since I was in diapers how things need to run and what needs to happen.  HA.  Life is definately interesting.  Everyone is exhausted.  You can see it on their faces, but laughter is abundant and that is a good thing.
     A gazillion notes meet me when I get to the PSA station.  Ha.  Rosamary and her daughter Celesta's sense of humor.  Love those two.  My personal shopping assistants arrive shortly before nine and we already have people waiting to be served.  It's gonna be a long day.

     I'm going to keep this short today.  I just want to tell you about one little boy.  This little one was only a couple of weeks old and as cute as a button.  Tiny, but with a voice.  It seems he was in his carrier at home when the tornado hit.  No one could get to him because it hit them so quickly.  When the winds died down and the whirling tornado was gone they finally found him behind the couch under some debris.  He didn't have a scratch on him.  His parents changed his name.  I'm not sure what his original name was, but his new name is Stormy.  His parents always wanted to remember that God had protected their son....I hope they never forget.
    
    

Headed Back

Wednesday, June 1
     Headed out with excitement and trepidation.  The kids and I were up early to go to Joplin.  They were pumped and ready to go because they love helping people, however, they didn't quite understand why all those people needed food and such.  Sometimes the pictures on tv don't really help in the understanding process.
     Here's the trepidatious part:  I drove them through the destruction path.  While I worried how they would react to this and that it could be painful, I knew that this was the only way I could truly get them to understand the depth of the despair these people were feeling and the purpose behind our trip to help.  As we drove past the hospital, the stores on Rangeline and the rubble of what used to be homes, their voices went from excitement of seeing the tv pictures for real to awe to horror.  I'm hear to tell you, it is not fun for a parent to listen to those voice changes nor the looks upon their faces.

     Clara and Timothy processed this destruction in different ways.  For Timothy it was seeing some little boy stuff in the mess of houses (although I don't know exactly what it was he saw).  He looks at me with deer in the headlight eyes and says, "Mom.  Did all the boys lose their Wiis and cars?"  When I said yes and told him they'd also lost their trucks and books and beds too, he looked at me and said, "It's good we came to help them shop then."  Clara, my tenderhearted girl, took it all in pointing out the pieces parts and noting what stores were what.  About halfway through the path she looked up at me with tears streaming down her face and said, "Mom.  I think I've had enough.  Can we go now?"

Tents where the families shop!  There are ten large ones!

  For the next eight hours my precious children helped families shop. They made other kids laugh. They prayed with them. They sweated, drank gallons of water and were good as gold. They went out with an adult shopper and I wouldn't see them for an hour. Suddenly, they'd turn up at my side and tell me how their shopping experience had gone. By the end of the day, Clara was good enough at it to take out a young woman and her baby shopping all by herself. My, oh my, how my little girl grew today!

     I grew a bit today too.  My greatest fear is losing one of my children.  Everyone who knows me knows I am super overprotective.  After listening to story after story of how God had spared lives in this tornado, how He had protected them, and how He had provided for them, it came full circle that God could take care of my babies much better than I ever could.  Yeah, yeah.  My DUH moment.  I guess I just needed to see that bigness of God in action.  I allowed my kids to roam around with total stranger and I didn't even know (other than the general vicinity) where they were and they were just fine.  Shoot, maybe even better for it. 
     God tells us in the book of Matthew chapter 7, "(25)For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than cloting?  (26)Look at the birds of the air, they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Father feeds them.  Are you not worth much more than they?  (27)And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?" 
     There are a couple of lessons in this passage which I saw in action today.  First off, God's people were feeding and clothing those who had nothing.  While nature took everything away, God was and still is returning it to them.  While they have no jobs, money or places to lay their heads, God is providing for them.  How much are they worth?  Everything in God's book.  Secondly, I learned that my worry will NOT add time in this life, nor will it save my children.  That's God's job.  And that was a huge step for me.
     This video is one I shot in the car just after we had finished our day of being personal shopping assistants.  It's awesome to listen to the kids as they tell me about their day (with a tangent or two) and how it was for them.  From the mouths of babes!

Home for a day

Tuesday, May 31
     Yeah, I'm home for a bit.  So wonderful to see my kiddos after being gone for so long.  Clara told her aunt that this was plenty long for mom to be gone.  I agree!!!

     Timothy had his first baseball game; he
 looked adoarable and so full of energy.
 He played left field and even fielded a ball
 to first. He had two at bats.  His first time up he
hit two foul balls and on the last pitch hit
 that sucker clear into the left field
grass...got all the way to second base. 
So much fun to decompress for a day
 with my children. 
    It was difficult though.  I kept thinking about all the little boys who had come through the distribution center and how they weren't going to get to play ball this summer.  Yep, I cried again.  I seem to be getting good at it.  :-)

Getting tired

Monday, May 30
     Another day of data entry.  AHHHHH!  I'm getting tired, overwhelmed with paperwork and off my game because I'm working in the midst of chaos, however controlled.  Nonetheless, on I plodded and once again God brought a couple into my day that were a ton of help.  I honestly can't remember their names and that saddens me.  Perhaps they were one of those people that are only meant to be in our lives for a time to meet a specific need and then off they go?!  Whatever the case, these two filed papers and tallied data for me all day.  This allowed me to continue on the computer uninterrupted. 

     Oh, I had to call my papa-san (my dad) today.   
  My stress level was through the roof.  When
working in a disaster area and working with
 people (survivors) on a daily basis, the stress
and emotional toll gets to you.  You have to
tether yourself to your life or you can get lost. 
Thus, I called my daddy.  He's always there to
listen and has wisdom I often need.  I told him
 about my days, cried for a bit because my heart
 was breaking for the hundreds of people I had
 served and after a while I was able to go back
to work and do what I needed to do - help others.
  Thank you God for giving me the greatest dad!

A day of rest...NOT

Sunday, May 29
     I was planning on attending a church service, after all, I was working in a chruch.  However, God had other plans.  I found my way to the office at College Heights and ran into Deb Hafer.  Now she, her husband and my parents went to college together so she has known me since I was in diapers.  She turned to the ladies in the office and informed them that I was "top notch" and a hard worker so give me a good job.  The ladies handed me a computer.  HA.  Now mind you I'm an English teacher and know just enough about computers to be dangerous.  I was then informed I needed to figure out what the last guy who had the computer had been doing with all the data on the people who had come through the distribution center for assistance.  WHAT!
     My first task was to actually find the file - no one had thought to ask the fella for the name of said file.  Hunt and peck.  Hunt and peck.  Stupid thing could be anywhere, but not in the Tornado section where everything else was.  Finally, I found it.  Would you believe when that thing popped open it was in some form with columns and numbers and stuff.  Uh, it's all Geek...I mean Greek to me!  And then it happened....
     Acts 2:1-4 "And when the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.  And suddenly there came from heaven a noise like a violent, rushing wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting.  And there appeared to them tongues as of fire distributing themselves, and they rested on each one of them.  And they were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues as the Spirit was giving them utterance."
     Yes, I just suddenly understood what was on the screen in front of me and I knew how to enter the data, group things, save and transfer.  I'm pretty sure if you looked really hard a flame was flickering over my head because I've never even opened a file like that before.  I'm lucky to get my grades entered online.  I thought it was pretty cool that God speaks computer!  For the next 12 hours I entered hundreds of families' data.  God enabled me to do a job that at that moment no one else could do.  And I did it with no eye exhaustion or migraines (which often plague me when I work for a long time on a computer).



     In the midst of all the paperwork, I also helped families shop.  We served nearly 300 families with 170 of them between 4 and 7 p.m. Every time I was sure we would be overwhelmed bye the vast amount of people, another volunteer would appear and say "Do you need some help?"  Once again, God's provision.  By the end of the day, I knew every part of our little (and I say that with dripping sarcasm because it took up half the church) shopping operation.
    Despite the influx of people we were still able to give these families individual attention.  Getting a family through takes anywhere from 45minutes or longer.  That's plenty of time to learn their names, their history, their story.  It's plenty of time to love them, hug them, pray with them and sometimes even cry with them. 

    Yes, I said cry...which I did for the third                 
day in a row.  I cried over the vast amount
 of names on paper going through my fingers.
  These are people who have lost all they
know...their homes, jobs, keepsakes and
 sometimes a loved one.  I had to stop every
 once in a while and just pray over a handful
of papers for the families they represented and
 for the strength to continue.

   

      One family in particular sticks in my mind and heart.  The three little girls had come in with their grandma.  She told me their story.  The girls had been in St. John's Hospital (which you remember was totally destroyed) when the tornado hit.  They made it to a relatively safe place, but were caught up in the horror of it all. 

     They all had scrapes and bruises from flying debris and the littlest girl was going to have to have one finger amputated at the first knuckle because of an injury to it, but amazingly that was the extent of their injuries.  As I'm kneeling there listening to grandma, patting her arm in reassurance and hugging hose little girls, grandma says, "I want you to hear something."  She turns to the oldest girl who couldn't be any older than my daughter who is ten and told her to sing it.
    This little girl whose cuts and bruises were just beginning to heal, who was dressed in a dirty shirt and mismatched shorts that were too small for her, whose hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days because they had no shampoo, this little girl began to sing.  Her tentative, sweet voice filled the hall where we stood and the noise of those around us stilled as they all stopped to listen. 

    

 I was walking home from school on a cold winter's day
Took a shortcut through the woods and I lost my way
It was getting late and I was scared and alone
Then a kind old man took my hand and led me home
Mama couldn't see him, but he was standing there
But I knew in my heart, he was the answer to my prayers

Oh I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live
To teach us how to give

   As she stood there singing Angels Among Us, I cried...as did several of the other listeners both volunteer and survivor alike.  When she was done she looked up at me and said, "I know there were angels.  They kept us safe."  I cried because of the simple beauty of the dirty, little girl before me.  I cried for her loss of innocence.  I cried for her little sister's finger.  And I cried because through all the terrible, terrifying moments of her Sunday evening crouching in a hallway of flying debris, she saw angels!

Destruction zone!

Saturday, May 28

     I was sporting a pink breast cancer awareness band aid today; I'll fill you in on that later though.
     My day started early after tossing and turning on the standard single mattress most dormitories provide and after a small breakfast of pancake and sausage - definitely not the Family Tree Meats variety - I was off again to the College Heights.  I checked in at the volunteer desk - yes, they are keeping count with well over 4,000 - and headed to the chapel to get my orders for the day.  I was heading outside to work in the field.  I was pleasantly surprised to see a rumpled Randy Gariss, the minister of College Heights, leading the way.  After his introduction to the work outside process and a reminder that looters or anyone looking like a looter would be sent to Carthage to wear little orange jump suits, he sent us on our way.  I joined a group of twenty others to head out to the Blendville Christian Church.

This church had lost all of its sanctuary - excluding the wall with the large cross- most of its storage rooms and had its classrooms destroyed by the torrential rains because there were gaping holes in the ceilings.  Upon arrival we learned that their vans were pinned in by the rubble of what used to be the concrete building which housed them.  An assembly line was formed and we moved the building block by block.
     Here's where the pink cancer band aid come into play.  Some of the concrete was formed around large metal trusses which were impossible to move alone.  Several of us gathers around to push and pull them out of the way so that we could continue to clean up the debris.  One young lady had her fingers caught between that large metal concrete laden truss and more concrete blocks.  When we finally go her fingers out we discovered that she had successfully ripped off an entire fingernail and had a gash on the other side.  I must say it is not a pleasant thing to wrap up a gushing wound while a woman cries and moans in extreme pain.  The young woman had not had a tetanus shot and neither had I.  If you are going to go clean up stuff in a disaster zone...a tetanus shot is a must!!!  I drove a few blocks down the road to the Red Cross trailer and took my shot like a man.  Okay, fine.  I really squealed like a little girl and did the tippy toe dance.
Silly nurses laughed at me.  The audacity.
     Upon arriving back at the church I discovered concrete removal had been completed and debris clean up had begun. 

                                                                                      Now mind you, remember the tornado which hit
 Joplin was a F5 multi vortex one which only moved
 at 25-30 mph, whereas a normal tornado moves in
excess of 50 mph.  Not only that, but it never lifted
off the ground for six miles.  Being inside that tornado
 was like being in a blender with up to 200 mph winds. It literally chewed up everything in its path and then spewed it out upon the earth.  While there were large pieces of things to clear, there were thousands upon thousands of shredded, splintered pieces of everything from shingles to trees to telephone poles to pebble size pieces of concrete and brick.  If you survived this tornado, you have a story to tell - guaranteed. 
    While I didn't hear any of those stories to day, I did meet and work with some very interesting people.  Steve had been out working since Tuesday - that's five days folks!  At the end of the day as we drove back to the church, he still voiced awe at the destruction before him.  While he lives outside of the affected area, he said he had just recently survived a tragedy.  You see, Steve works construction and had been working at  a home when he took a fifteen foot fall off of a ladder.  Thankfully, he was not alone that day as he was so many other days.  Upon arriving at the hospital, it was discovered he had busted his hip, hurt his back, broken six ribs, ripped up the inside of his shoulder and gashed his head to the point where he didn't even remember going up the ladder, much less any of the rest of it.

 Steve (pictured left) said he felt blessed and fortunate to have survived and while he hasn't been able to return to work because his shoulder still has limited mobility, he called his doctor and asked if it would harm him if he helped clean up debris.  The doctor gave the go ahead and Steve has been picking up pieces parts for days. 

Isaac and Becky are from Joplin...just a few blocks up the road from Blendville Christian Church and just barely out of the tornado's path. They are here helping today because they are grateful they escaped unscathed.    Becky (pictured right) is a fellow teacher; God bless her for she teaches kindergarten.  Isaac is a youth minister.  They are a breath of fresh air.  They were full of energy and smiles.  It was a joy to work side by side with them as they gave back to the neighbors.

Once again I sit at a desk in a dorm room and ponder my day.  I'm exhausted and sore, but my spirit is renewed.  I've met and worked with fine people today...many of whom I've not mentioned.  I have sweated bottles of water.  I have raked hundreds of feet of lawn and learned about the struggles of a man named Steve.  I have hugged a teenager from Kansas City and eaten breakfast with a lady from Oklahoma.  I have bandaged a bloody finger of a woman whose name I don't even know and played matchmaker with a girl I trained as a personal shopping assistant. 

I have eaten lunch in front of this sight.

                          

I have sung a familiar song from a rain soaked hymnal.

I have wondered if these tapes will ever work again.

I have taken pictures of myself in front of the debris.

I have wondered what child lost this puzzle piece.

And I have worked until I couldn't raise my arms to rake another inch.

     While my body aches and I have wept numerous times today as my emotions assimilate the overwhelming destruction; my spirit soars.  I know that every hug, every smile, every pull of the rake and move of a concrete block makes a difference.  We often wonder, What can I do? I'm only one person.  That's the wrong way to look at it.  We ought to be saying, I'm only one person, but look at what I can do!  I can come together with another person and another and another until we can move buildings, change lives and rebuild.

"Peace doesn't come from finding a lake with no storms. It comes from having Jesus in the boat." John Ortberg

    

Five Days After!

     It's Friday, May 27....five days after the tornado hit Joplin, MO.  They say over 8000 homes are gone.  They say it's six miles long and anywhere from a half a mile to a mile wide.  As I'm driving to Joplin I can't even begin to comprhend a path that wide.  I've seen the aftermath of tornados before, but nothing prepared me for the onslaught of destruction my eyes took in upon driving into the path of the tornado this morning.  The trip through it left me raw.
     I feel as if I am driving through a war zone.
     I got lost. How disconcerting.  I've driven the streets of Joplin more times than I can count, and I have no idea where I am.  All landmarks are gone, obliverated.  There are literally blocks and blocks of rubble.  If there are trees standing they are often completely naked, as if someone ripped off all of the branches and then peeled the bark off until only the white core of the tree is exposed.  It's frightening.  Cars some mashed beyond recogniction have been tossed to a fro as if dumped on the ground by a petulent child.  Concrete and brick bulidings look like piles of Legos.  Even worse are the faces of the survivors...exhuastion is etched upon them.  I later learned that many have had their homes condemed and there is precious little time to recover what pitifully small amounts of belongings they can find.  Tears sprung to my eyes as I watched a young couple drive by on their four wheeler with a small box placed between them.  The woman was weeping - I imagine that box was all   that was left of life as they knew it.

     And so my journey begins. 
     After making my way through the path of destruction, I arrived at College Heights Christian Church.  I had no idea what I was going to do, how to do it or even where I would sleep.  I was just there.  The parking lots were packed.  There were literally thousands of people coming and going. There were semis in the back parking lots and massive qauantities of supplies everywhere.  As I walked down the sidewalk to the atrium of the church I felt as if I were walking through the parting of the Red Sea - the pallets of bottled water were eye high and a hundred yards long.  It was a pretty impressive operation considering they had only been up and running for a couple of days.

    I was met at the front door by smiling volunteers who directed me to a place I could help - the PSA station.  Seems I was to be a personal shopping assistant.  College Heights had set up a distribution system for anything from food to cleaning supplies to baby formula, basically anything (small) needed to set up house.  I didn't know shopping could be so much fun or so heartbreaking.

Carts were gven to the church to use by several different businesses in town.

    I had the opportunity to meet and serve several famlies.  All were poliet; all were grateful, and all had lost nearly everything.  Here's just a couple of their stories.
     One lady was living with another fmaily after her apartment complex had been deemed unlivable - there were ten in this household.  Another lady came in with her elevn year old daughter, not to shop for themselves, but for three men who had lost their homes.  Another couple whom were a joy to serve, had quite different ways of dealing with this tragedy.  The gentleman was smiling and conversational, while the lady was all business and was concerned about how to best care for her family.  It seems we all deal with loss in very different ways; however, one family sticks in my mind.
     Jill has three beautiful children ranging in age from elementary to high school.  Her oldest son was in Kansas when the tornado hit; however, Jill and her youngest two were just stiing down to the table to eat the kids' favorite meal - Ravioli.  They never had the chance to eat it; instead, they found themselves cowering in a closet trying desperately to survive the tornado as the winds and suction of the storm literally ripped their home apart.  Jill did what any mom would do.  She had a vice grip on her children and shielded their precious little bodies from the onslaugh of flying debris with her own body.  They survived, and Jill bears the bruises and wound - a large gash on her upper thigh which went nearly to the bone - to prove it.  She wears the pain as a badge of courange, and she does it with a smile.  Jill told me that while her home was a total loss, her body beaten, and her children traumatized that God is good and He was the only reason they were alive. 
     Me - I just shake my head at it all...the massive inpouring of money and supplies...the thousands of volunteers...the incomprehensible destruction...the smiles and gratefulness of survivors in the aftermath of horror...and the grace of God.  I'm writing this as I sit at a desk in a dorm room at Ozark Christian College where twenty years ago I sat as a know-it-all seventeen year old kid.  I now realize I didn't know anything.  I didn't even have an inkling.  I write and I weep.  I weep for in a day I have gained more understanding and have been more blessed than I ever thought possible.  I weep for the families I have served.  I weep because of the vast amount of destruction I viewed.   I weep because...because my heart is changing and that is a good thing.