I really waged a battle with myself about writing this post. I wasn't sure I wanted to think about it being the one year anniversary of April 27, 2011 - much less write about it and dredge up all the emotion again. (Here's my first hand account of the day.)
I, along with most other Alabamians, still feel panic when we think about that day. When I look at pictures and videos I actually feel fearful and my heart pounds with anxiety. Many times I even begin to cry. We still feel a deep heartache as we ride down the road and come across another corner of our beloved state that is scarred, looking for all the world like a war zone.
No, we will never forget.
Not because we might not want to, but because we simply cannot. I can tell you almost every detail of that day because it is seared with terrible clarity on my heart and mind. And I am not alone. This is the new Alabama. The one following April 27, 2011.
So what is a fitting "remembrance" to write? I really am not sure. Is there really a GOOD way to honor and remember those that lost their lives, their homes, their health and certainly their peace of mind? Is there any way to say an adequate "thank you" to all the meteorologists and emergency personnel that worked so tirelessly? Can we fully express the gratefulness we feel towards friends and neighbors - and total strangers - who showed up, pitched in, helped out, held our hands, cooked for us, sent supplies and prayed?
No. I don't think we can. Nothing seems appropriate or quite fitting.
Nothing feels like enough. All words seem pale, and insignificant. This is too deep.
But here's my bumbling try.
Today, when I remember, I see faces flash through my mind. Yes, I remember the destruction. Unfortunately I still feel the fear. But what I choose to remember are the faces. Behind every face is a story. And all of our stories matter.
- In Marshall County - The man who stopped by my parent's house because the Lord told him to "go help someone". God, may my heart be tender and sensitive to your voice - and to the pain of others.
- In Lawrence County - My husband toting a chainsaw through a field of rubble, intent on helping however he could. God, may I be a willing servant, longing only to help others.
- In Tuscaloosa - My son, sorting supplies, and hauling downed trees. God, may I realize I always have something to offer, even when I may not feel "skilled" or "gifted".
- In Harvest - The woman who lost everything who allowed us to pray for her and who told us - and taught us - that she had much to be thankful for. God, may I always see my blessings and provision instead of focusing on my lack.
- In Tuscaloosa - The Mennonite woman from Pennsylvania frying fish, the fishermen from Mobile frying shrimp - and handing it out with a side of big smiles and pats on the back. God, may my heart be big enough to love people that are not from my neighborhood and that are not like me.
- In Phil Campbell - The woman who grimly shared that the bodies of eight of her neighbors had been pulled out of the pond in front of her house. And then she cried, wondering how she'd been spared. God may I always have sympathy and compassion. May I learn to "mourn with those that mourn and weep with those that weep".
- In Langtown - the old man who lost his house, who cried in my arms, telling me "It's hard to start over when you're 95 years old." God, may I always be willing to admit the truth and share my heart with others. And Lord, help me not just "walk on by" when someone needs a shoulder to cry on. Or someone to pray.
- In Trinity - my friend Kristen, who gave up vacation time to come love on and pray for those who had been affected by helping them find clothing, groceries and supplies. God, make my heart loving and unselfish! May I be willing to sacrifice my comfort for others.
- In Birmingham - (no faces - just posts on facebook!) where the movement "Toomers for Tuscaloosa" was birthed and thousands of volunteers have been mobilized across the nation - Auburn grads and fans working selflessly to show support for the University of Alabama and all of our beloved state. God, may I be quick to use all you've given me to meet the needs that are before me - no excuses!
- In Langtown, where a young man named Jesse - redneck and uneducated to the core - told me with tears in his eyes that he didn't know what he would do now because he didn't have any insurance on his trailer. I can still hear his voice as he very gently reminded me "You know, when you're dirt poor, insurance is a luxury". God may I remember those who are less fortunate, may I remember you have given me all I have to serve you and love others. God, don't let my heart be selfish and greedy. May I live with an open heart and open hands.
God heals in his own ways. And across much of Alabama he has used you. And me. And countless others. To show his love, to bring healing, to encourage, to lift up, to say a prayer, to CARE.
In the midst of the destruction, people were God's finest provision.
How amazing is that?
Here are a few images from the weeks we worked in different communities around Alabama.
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