Unless you have been living in hole somewhere for the last month, you are aware of the massively destructive weather we've been having here in the Midwest lately. Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Missouri have been hammered with storms that have flooded and/or destroyed thousands of homes. But we Midwesterners have a curious way of dealing with such tragic events. Let me try to explain, even though words really can't do this topic justice.
Since Joplin is geographically close to me, I have had the opportunity to be personally involved in the cleanup after an EF5 tornado left an 8 mile path of rubble in its wake. This particular tornado was unique in that not only was the funnel itself spinning but there were multiple vortexes inside it spinning also. Add to that a relatively slow speed of 30 mph and you have the effect of a garbage disposal, chewing up everything for a good 45 seconds before moving on. Not a leaf left on the trees, some houses literally reduced to splinters, cars crushed and mangled, concrete walls tossed around like styrofoam. And all of this is as far as you can see. Pictures just cannot capture the pit-of-your-stomach feeling you get when you are standing in what used to be someone's home, sifting through debris in a desparate attempt to find something, anything that homeowner could salvage of their previous life. Then after working for hours in the heat and humidity, you look around and realize that what you accomplished was only a thimbleful of what still needed to be done.
As heart wrenching as all of this was, though, the curious thing was the atmosphere you encountered no matter where you went or who you spoke to. There were people EVERYWHERE; cleaning up, handing out food, offering water, ice, Gatorade, helping people fill out forms, giving free Tetnus shots, unloading truckloads of donations. There was the sound of chain saws, dump trucks, cranes, and surprisingly, laughter. You saw people of all ages, nationalities, and socio-economic levels working together for one goal--to bring hope to someone who had just survived a horrendous experience.
Hope was our primary job. Hope that things can be replaced. Hope that someday things would get back to normal, or at least something close to it. Hope that there would be people to help and we wouldn't stop coming until we were no longer needed. Hope that they were not alone in this tragedy and others were feeling their pain.
This is the mindset of people in the Midwest. Maybe I'm prejudice because I live here but I can't imagine a better place to call home. And the response of the people putting hands and feet to their faith, digging in and giving of their time, money, and resources has to be the closest thing to heaven I've seen in a long time. But probably the most positive thing that can come from these terrible tragedies is that
the world is watching. Others are seeing first hand who we are as Christians and what that looks like put into action. A hundred sermons preached by the best pastors in the country could not speak as effectively as what has been witnessed on the now unidentifiable streets of several Midwestern towns. I can say without hesitation that I am proud to be from the Midwest!
