May 20 – “Day of the Stray”

Sunday.  Church day, of course.  And in this case, also the Day of the Stray.  A stray cat has been hanging around Josh’s house pretty much since we have been here.  Caleb put out a bowl of water for it.  No food, though.  That’s where Josh drew the line.  His attitude is, “The cat can stay around – outside - as long as it finds its own food.  That’s what cats are for – to keep down the rat population.”  Maybe not those words exactly, but I think that says the gist of it.  The thing must have been somebody’s pet.  It is very lovable, clearly not afraid of humans, and desperately wants someone to pet it constantly.  I have not yet succumbed.  It is also very loud when we go back inside at night.  And long into the night.  I’m not sure how it has escaped the clutches of the local coyotes or the hovering monster owl that uses the forest behind the house as its hunting grounds.  They usually take care of small loose animals that make lots of noise. 

The guest speaker on Sunday night at the church was, I guess you could say, a “stray” of a different sort.  The pastor of the First Baptist Church in West, Texas told about his personal experiences during the explosion there.  Actually he was on his way home from his daughter’s high school track meet in College Station when it happened.  His house was among those deemed uninhabitable, though, and he won’t be moving back in until later this summer (Hence the “stray” connection).  He had quite a few tales of how people came through for them with financial, emotional, and medical assistance.  Josh’s church was one of the key providers of that assistance.  They even brought in a sound system and someone to operate it for the first worship service after the disaster.  They had to meet outside.  For those of you Seasiders out there reading this … Doesn’t it sound eerily familiar?  Like … almost exactly what we experienced after Hurricane Ike?  Even down to the outdoor worship service where we were all hugging and wanted to just be together for a few minutes before facing the daunting task of sorting through what was left of our homes.  I talked to him briefly after the service.  I just wanted to encourage him from one disaster survivor to another.  I told him to embrace the excitement of the time as well as the grief.  Look on it as an opportunity to be part of developing something brand new that will not be like anything they have ever experienced before.  His wife connected with the idea right away.  She said they are already operating in the realm of “new normal.”  Such an appropriate catch phrase.  I stopped short of telling them that Galveston is still in the process of that development, and probably will be for a very long time.  They’ll find out.  And my God be with them as they do.

Jeremiah 24:6-7 says, “My eyes will watch over them for their good, and I will bring them back to this land. I will build them up and not tear them down; I will plant them and not uproot them.  I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the Lord. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart.”

Father, may this be the end result for the people of West … and of Galveston.  Amen.