September 30 – “A Tale of Two Families”

We got a little more feedback about some of the families we have been trying to help.  One of our Seasiders invited her new friend over for dinner.  We had sent a volunteer team over to the friend’s sister’s house to help with mucking out and general demo.  Word is the sister will finally get around $30,000 from FEMA to complete repairs.  That does sound like a happy ending, doesn’t it?

Well, on the other hand, the new friend – the one who recommended us to her sister in the first place – was completely denied any assistance at all from FEMA.  They had no flood insurance, and every scrap of sheetrock had to be removed, including the ceilings.  I remember those days very well as we dealt with Hurricane Ike’s aftermath.  But here’s the thing.  Unlike the offsite housing we were blessed with, this family is living in the house, as is.  The husband and sons are working on it as they get off work and school, and as they have available funds.  The husband has already taken a second job to make some more money for materials.  They have the skills to make the repairs happen, but just not much time or finances.  One of our Seasiders is making plans to help as he can.  They have been encouraged to appeal the FEMA decision.  Oh, and not that it matters in terms of helping, but it certainly does in terms of eternal significance … these are Muslim families.

So here we are.  Our new crossroads, I guess.  Figuring out how best to distribute the donations we are receiving.  And then there is discovering what avenues of actual volunteer physical help for building may be available, and matching it with the needs that we come into contact with, of which the story above is just one example.  There are still Pastor Domingo’s church and the homes in Alvin and the homes in Dickinson and the homes of the Galveston fire fighters and the homes in Lake Jackson.  And all this is just our tiny little corner of the devastation.  There’s a great life lesson there.  One of my favorites, in fact: “Don’t do nothing because you can’t do it all.  Do what you can do.”

1 John 2:3-6 says, “We know that we have come to know him if we obey his commands.  The man who says, ‘I know him,’ but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him.  But if anyone obeys his word, God's love is truly made complete in him. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did.”

Father, be with these families as they navigate through the rough waters ahead of them.  And give us wisdom to distribute wisely the donations we are receiving.  Amen.

September 29 – “Back to the … present?”

I’ve been trying to work ahead this week.  It’s hard living in the future when the present keeps getting in the way.  Why work ahead?  Well, next week is our Seaside trip to Missouri to see the play about Moses.  I have to get done now everything that is normally done in the four days we will be gone.  Of course next week has more birthday and anniversary cards to send out than the last four weeks combined.  There are two Sunday teachings to prepare for.  This week we have a baptism scheduled (Yep, that means we will end our worship service at the beach.  Come on out and join us), so the teaching will center on that.  The week we return will be a return to the Book of Acts.  We kind of left Paul hanging while that massive crowd in Ephesus was about to riot.  Pretty exciting stuff.  Plus I am preparing a devotional for every morning of the trip as well.  Not sure about the ability to do blog posts from the mountains.  Honestly, it’s kind of like the week before youth camp around here.  I’ve been very tempted to break out the ukulele and start practicing “I’m a Nut.”  But I’m not real sure how a bunch of adults will take to such a melodiously wonderful wakeup call in the morning. 

So that’s the future.  Now back to the present again … I woke up to a message already on my phone from our friends at Servant of Nations Church in Houston.  They have a muck-out team on site and ready to work, and they were looking for a place to go.  I texted Pastor Domingo in Alvin to be on the lookout for someone to help this morning.  Sounds like he has a team already doing some sheetrocking work there.  Could it be that at least some of the people are finally shifting a little closer to rebuild mode there?  I know there are still some folks who find it very difficult to accept help, especially from outsiders.  And I’m sure there are other neglected neighborhoods and individual homes between here and Houston – places that just never “got found.”  If anybody hears of a place like that where help is needed and will be accepted, let me know.  We just need a contact name and phone number and an address.  In the broader disaster picture, from what I am hearing now, the need for mucking out seems to be shifting to the east of Houston on the one hand, and into Brazoria County where the flooding was more related to the dam releases, on the other.  We are now beginning to look for ways to help people who have stripped their house to the studs, have been visited by FEMA  (and approved or disqualified for their assistance) or contacted by their insurance company, and are ready to begin the process of electrical inspections and installing insulation and sheetrock and new flooring.  Not to mention buying new appliances and furniture and in some cases even clothing.  Might be time for some Home Depot/Lowes/WalMart/Target gift cards …

1 John 2:1-2 says, “My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense — Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.  He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.”

Father, help the Seasiders going on the trip next week to get all of their pre-trip details accomplished.  And give us guidance in our next steps disaster relief.  Amen.

September 28 – “Team Seaside … two directions”

Our Team Seaside headed back over to Alvin again yesterday.  Chris and I met with them at the church to help load up the vehicles and have a prayer with them before they left.  The plan was to do another mass feeding and distribution of supplies.  This week, however, they added a new wrinkle in the mix.  They took a load of clothing as well.  Get it?  New wrinkle … clothing?  Come on, I worked hard on that one.  About mid-afternoon I got a text from the pastor and his wife of the little church there in Alvin.  Let me include it here:

“Pastor Kelley.  You’ve got one of the most helpful & givingest people around.  They have been a tremendous blessing to these folks in Alvin, so I know y’all’s treasure in heaven is going to be enormous.  God bless you all.  Pastors Domingo & Lucy”

Yep.  I’m pretty proud of these guys.  And one of the best parts of the Alvin team is that, although there is a solid core that goes every week, there are new folks going with them as well, some experiencing this kind of ministry for the first time.  Must be a God thing …

Chris and I headed a different direction after seeing off that team.  We loaded up our car to the hilt with diapers, baby food, baby wipes, baby clothes, and baby toys (sense a theme here, yet?).  Our destination was the Crisis Pregnancy Center in Texas City.  They have become the warehousing point for distribution centers they have set up in three different communities.  In fact, the lady we worked with yesterday, when she heard what we were doing in Alvin, gave us some fliers to distribute among the young moms there.  The information directed them to the nearest center to them, the one in Santa Fe, where they can receive items like diapers and other baby needs weekly.  We weren’t sure at first if they would accept our clothing donations.  They are trying to take clothes only if they have been sorted by age (size), gender and season.  We had the size part down, but when she saw the quality of the clothes she was happy to receive them.  She was also tickled to see the toys that we brought.  They are putting together packets to give to moms, and they try to put a small toy in with each packet.  We brought in a huge tub of just what she was looking for.  She did let us know that the biggest need they have lately is for diapers in the bigger sizes – 4 up through 6.  They are well-stocked on the smaller sizes. 

The other big thing they are working on is a way to get port-a-cribs into the hands of parents who find themselves sometimes sharing a floor with several other families, many of whom have no experience with babies at all.  If the child could be in a port-a-crib or pack-and-play, he would be safe from random feet passing by and bodies rolling over.  The initiative is called Safe Sleep.  They have received a matching grant whereby a company will match every dollar they get designated toward these cribs.  I for one really appreciate it when an appeal is this openly genuine, actually needed, and remarkably specific.  My old Granddad heart is touched at its core when babies are being taken care of and the ministry is being done right.  Nice job, ChristyAnne and staff …

1 John 1:8-9 says, “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

Father, we’re still praying for the Alvin folks and all the issues they still face.  We also pray for the Crisis Pregnancy Center and their staff and all the folks they minister to every day.  Would you pass out some of that non-understandable peace today?  They … we … could all use it.  Amen.

September 27 – “The wrath of the uncontrollable …”

Ragweed and cedar were off the charts in Waco the last few days, so I had a pretty miserable day and a half or so.  I’m just glad Chris had a Benadryl in her purse, or the Waco Children’s Museum would have experienced the wrath of the uncontrollable sneeze.  I was still sniffling and sneezing when we got home.

My neck is waking me up a little more than usual.  It’s not so much that it is painful.  The problem is more the electrical impulses that make me want to claw off the entire right side of my face.  I think maybe this is what Van Gough had that caused him to cut off his ear.  Then once it was off, it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time to present it to his lady love.   I do have an appointment scheduled for Tuesday.  The doctor’s office called me on Monday to see how I was doing and get some more information.  I thought, “How nice of them.”  Then she indicated that the doctor might want to see me sooner based on the new information.  “But keep that appointment just in case.  We’ll call and let you know if anything changes.”  Well.  Now I have something else to think about.

We didn’t even get halfway home before the relief effort phone calls started coming in.  Josh’s church has several crews ready to go to work doing some mucking out, but they have nowhere to go.  They were hooked up with an organization in Katy, but that group decided to shut down operations.  Now we’re trying to get them plugged in with someone else.  I found out that Brazoria County has set up a pretty impressive website and organization effort.  I let Josh know about that option.  Some of our Seaside people are also making calls to their contacts.  I heard yesterday that there are some groups with hundreds of homes still on their muckout list, but they are hesitant to share those names with outside groups.  Now, that is not first-hand knowledge, and I didn’t ask what groups (don’t really want to know).  Assuming it is an accurate assessment, I don’t know if that’s a political decision or a jealousy decision or if they are honestly concerned about the homeowners’ welfare.  Seems to me, though, that getting rid of the nastiness as quickly as possible should be the immediate goal for everyone. 

1 John 1:6-7 says, “If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth.  But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”

Father, please grease some wheels between agencies and entities so that the human beings can receive the help they need.  Amen.

September 26 – “Having it”

I briefly scanned back through the last week or so of blogs, and I can’t find any mention of Young Noa’s helpful health hint that she gave me the other day.  It’s probably already there, and you will be bored to hear it again, but it gives me a personal chuckle to revisit it anyway.  When they were over at our house the other day, she crawled up in my lap to snuggle and talk a bit about her day and whatever imaginary play world she was existing in at the time.  All of a sudden Noa patted me on the belly and said, “DadDad, you need to go be a mailman.” What’s the connection?  Well, her mailman Daddy lost about 50 pounds with all the walking he does.

While I’m on the subject of grandkids and the words of wisdom they impart … yesterday I had the joyful experience of riding to lunch and to the Waco Children’s Museum in the back seat in between eleven-year-old Zakary and eight-year-old Caleb.  The ages will become significant in a moment.  Zak was busy reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells.  Caleb was thumbing through a book full of all kinds of random facts and trivia.  Guess which shoulder I chose to look over? 

On one of the pages Caleb turned to there was actually mention of The Time Machine … the movie.  As I was the only one to have seen that particular marvel of celluloid magic, I became the expert on comparing its merits to those of the book.  Caleb had a picture of the female Eloi lead.  Zak wanted to know, “Was she really short like in the book?  What did the Morlocks look like?  Were they white?”  Oh, I did the best I could, but I think it’s time to do a Netflix review of the subject.  If Netflix even has that one.  Once that particular portion of the conversation dissolved, Caleb began turning pages once again and Zak returned to the world of Morlocks. 

That’s when things got interesting.  See, Caleb’s book was a little bit about virtually everything.  At one point he explained, “There used to be another page in here, but Zak said it was not appropriate for me to look at, so he tore it out.”  Big brother watching out for the youngsters, I suppose.  Sure made me curious about what “the page” had been about.  We went through strange animals and insects and even the atom, itself.  But then he reached another category altogether.  I scanned through and came to a paragraph entitled “Puberty.”  Well, I just couldn’t resist.  “Puberty.  So what is puberty?”  Caleb had never missed a beat in his recitation of appropriate facts regarding just about everything in the book up to this point.  This one was no different.  He immediately answered, “I don’t know exactly, but Zak’s having it.”  Wait, what?  I turned to Zak, and asked, “Is this true?  Is this puberty some kind of disease?”  He responded, sort of.  Nervous, embarrassed laughter and beet red cheeks.  No words necessary.  I guess he really is having it. 

1 John 1:5 says, “This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all.”

Father, thank you for life … for growing up … with all of its puberty-esque adventures.  Amen.

September 25 – “What I saw …”

Chris was helping in the nursery at church yesterday.  She had, among others, a two-year-old and a three-year-old … boys.  Both strong-willed, alpha male children.  And both struggling for dominance in this new domain.  It apparently made for some rather physical altercations.  Now, Chris has been dealing with children of all ages for many years now.  Hey, watch it.  No need to get personal.  We’ve been married somewhat shy of half a century, and yes, she has been dealing with me and no, she hasn’t been particularly successful at getting me to grow up.  But with other people’s kiddos, she is a charmer to be sure.  So these two little fellas decided to test the waters.   A kick here, a punch there, a shove as you walk by – all the typical little boy expressions of “love thy neighbor.”  After one such exchange, Chris spoke to the offender, calling him by name to make sure she had his attention, and then adding that time-honored epithet, “Use your words, not your hands.”  Briefly puzzled, the youngster thought for a moment or two, then replied in his absolute best singing voice, “A-B-C-D-E-F-G …”  That, my friends, is one of the best replies to an adult admonition that I have ever heard.  You, my young friend, are eternally in my Hall of Fame. 

We took a road trip after church.  Well into Texas.  We attended a reception for some good friends Kenny and Lauren, who were just commissioned to be missionaries to Alaska.  On the way we kind of took turns noticing things.  What Chris saw – The Leftovers Antique Store.  What I saw – A big ol’ chicken statue standing outside the Rancho Ba-something or other.  What Chris saw – Lavender field tours.  What I saw – The Texas Cotton Gin Museum.  What Chris saw – The Round Top Antique Vintage Craft Fair.  What I saw – The Old Burton Road Repair Shop.  What Chris saw – The Saddlehorn Winery.  What I saw – “Are we there yet?  I’m tired.  I’m hungry.  I got go potty.  Are we there yet?  Why?”  What I saw – The Wendish Museum (What in the world is a Wendish?).  What I saw – The World Headquarters of First National Bank … of Giddings, Texas.  What I saw – The Sherwood Forest Faire.  What I saw – Old Potato Road.  What I saw – The sign: “This ain’t no museum.  This junk’s for sale.”  What I saw – The Elgin Hogeye Festival (Not at all sure what they do there, but I think it might be the source of the derogative, “in a pig’s eye”).  What I saw – The Annual ChooChoo Fest in Coupland, Texas.  What I saw – In the town that is the home of the High School Hutto Hippos, with monstrous hippos painted on their city water tower, and a smaller than life-size hippo statue very near the football stadium, a simple street name that caught my eye … Legends of Hutto Drive.  I can only imagine who might live on that street …

And you wonder how our vacations can be so … so … entertaining.

2 Peter 3:18 says, “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen.”

Father, be with Kenny and Lauren and their kids as they begin their journey to Alaska.  Keep them all healthy on the trip.  Amen.

September 24 - “Knee high …”

Well, I shouldn’t have said anything the other day about the neck doctor not returning my email.  I now have an official appointment with the neurosurgeon.  Guess I’ll soon be checking out how well our relationship with the medical sharing plan Samaritan Ministries works.  Oh, and the appointment is the day before we leave for a trip to Branson, Missouri, with some Seasiders.  Wonder what delightful news we will hear that will brighten and encourage us in our enjoyment of the journey …

You know what?  I have a great neighbor.  Taylor is a young, 20-something new Dad of a precious one-year-old little girl.  He is an accomplished professional in his field.  He plays guitar in his church praise team.  He is preparing to go do mission work in Mexico for two years.  Pretty impressive, huh?  Well, that’s not what endears me so much to him.  Here it comes … Yesterday good ol’ Taylor was outside doing yard work.  He was wearing an orange shirt and blue shorts.  Colorful, but no big deal, right?  Tennis shoes, of course.  But the crowning achievement of his Saturday morning?  He was wearing knee-high black socks.  Now that, my friend takes a courage not often seen in a young millennial.  I am proud of you, Taylor.  And I want a pair of those knee-highs. 

I feel kind of sense of survivor’s guilt this morning.  We did nothing related to storm relief yesterday.  Didn’t even go by the church and straighten up the donation piles so they would look nicer for church this morning.  Odd feeling …

I did make three fire department station visits.  Wanted to check on the guys who made a really tough call on Wednesday.  It was their first shift back.  Oh, and we did go up to Texas to watch some of Jachin’s baseball games.  He had a really good day.  He hit a double, a bunt single and walked in the first game.  He had already walked in the second game when we had to leave.  I had to get ready for an unusual wedding opportunity.  Back the last week of August I was enlisted to do a 50^th anniversary vows renewal at the San Luis Hotel.  Then the “young bride” called and asked if I would also do an actual wedding of her grandson at the same time.  All was set to go when Hurricane Harvey began changing plans.  The original date was postponed, then postponed again.  The new wedding couple actually went ahead and got married so they would have the same anniversary as their grandparents, but they still wanted to continue with the service at the hotel as planned.  We finally managed to get a date set, and last night was the culmination. 

The wedding and vows renewal went well.  Well, except that we waited over thirty minutes for the photographer to arrive.  I think in all the date confusion he must have gotten lost in the shuffle.  We finally started without him, and with all the cell phone videos and snapshots being taken, I think they will have an amazing array of technological options for their wedding remembrances.  We completed the wedding first, and as the happy couple walked down the isle, I called out, “Wait.  Hold on.  We’re not done yet.  We have a double header planned for you tonight.”  The bride and groom returned, with the bride taking one of the now-vacated seats of the grandparents and the groom joining the grandparents at the altar to stand as a best man.  One of the bride’s original bridesmaids stood at her side, and we began the vow renewal.  As we finished up, the photographer finally arrived, and he took a lot of pictures, both on site and at the reception.   In the end it was a nice event.  I have learned over the years that when a wedding is involved, the most crucial element is … flexibility.  Anything can and probably will happen. 

2 Peter 3:14 says, “So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him.”

Father, be with the new family that was formed.  And honor the lives of the two who have stuck with each other and with you for 50 years.  Amen.

September 23 – “A month later”

It has been almost a month since Hurricane Harvey decided to take a break and sit over our area for a few days, dumping buckets and buckets of rain.  As I read the newspaper this morning I had a flood of my own … of memories from 2008 when we were experiencing the same things in the aftermath of Hurricane Ike.  I read an article about an apartment complex in Dickinson very close to where we were mucking out homes right after the storm.  Seems it still has people living amidst the stench and debris and mold.  The city fire marshal has just ordered all of the electricity shut off to the complex.  The folks who remain are living there at their own risk.  The owner isn’t charging them rent.  They have nowhere else to go.  The city and a church went through and talked to the people, and presented them with some alternatives. 

My mind returns to the folks we are helping over in Alvin.  The homes they are in were built many years ago, some appear to date as far back as the 1930’s.  Some are tiny one-room shanties.  All are seriously flood damaged.  Many are unquestionably uninhabitable.  And yet the people remain, doing what they can to sort through belongings and move on to the demolition stage, hoping that their home’s structure will withstand the flood effects.

Other people are still “camping out” in area hotels.  They have been officially informed that FEMA has denied their application for assistance, so they must figure out some way to come up with another deposit and first and last month’s rent, a daunting task.  And it’s not just a few people involved here.  Across the region we are talking about hundreds.  It’s overwhelming. 

Some of the areas affected by the river flooding and the subsequent dam water release are just now returning to their homes.  A new wave of need has arisen in those areas, like Lake Jackson.  More and more reports of damage are coming in from smaller communities like Liverpool. 

As I mentioned earlier, a friend of ours in Dickinson has been driving her vehicle since the storm, albeit rather tentatively.  The other day when we went by there the car was being towed away.  The insurance company determined that because the electrical system was under water, the car was a total loss.  Now she is without transportation.  The rental agencies in the area are swamped with requests, so she has to wait in line.  And that is but one transportation story among literally hundreds.

Relief agencies are on the ground, trying to help.  But here’s the thing.  Except for Dickinson, there really has been no real connection made between the agencies and the off the map needs I have been describing.  It’s just that the damage is so widespread that it seems impossible to find everyone.  I have been encouraged, though.  As I have been receiving names and addresses and contact numbers, I have put them in touch with the agency stationed here in Galveston. 

Meanwhile, many folks have moved beyond the immediate muckout stage and are waiting to rebuild.  For some that means simple things like sheetrocking and repainting.  For others it means an entire electrical rewiring and a new roof and new windows and siding, not to mention new furniture and appliances.  And decisions.  Decisions.  Decisions.  Day after day of decisions.  And of course where they go with all that is dependent on insurance claims and deductibles and whether the mortgage company will be cooperative in handling those insurance checks that have to go through them first, since they hold the title to the property. 

For some their job – and their paycheck - is on hold as the business also deals with the flood aftermath.  For others lucky enough to still have a job to go to, they find that their day care is no longer in operation, or it has moved to an entirely different area. 

And as the days march on, other questions arise.  “So, what about that windbreaker I used to wear when winter hits southeast Texas and the temperature reaches a chilly 69 degrees?”  That’s gone.  “Hey, Thanksgiving is just around the corner.  Who can host this year?”  Certainly not us.  Oh, and Christmas.  “I can’t even begin to think about Christmas.  All I can think about is trying to keep up with the contractor and what comes next.”    

I don’t mean to present a totally negative, hopeless picture of the situation here.  I just wanted to let you know that for the individual, real people stuck in the midst of it, there is more to this disaster event than just taking a deep breath, saying a prayer of thanksgiving that you and your family are safe, and choosing to fight back.  That “fight back” is a long process.  But it can be done.  Keep yourself healthy.  Eat right, even if it means standing in line at the Salvation Army or Red Cross truck.  Find one thing every day to laugh about.  Celebrate one memory every day.  As you wade through the seemingly never-ending “todays,” close your eyes and see a few “tomorrows” as well.  And get excited about them.  Oh, and it helps if you don’t try to do it alone.  Hug someone you love every day.  Reconnect with God and start every morning by touching base with him.  He gives out some pretty special hugs, too.

Impossible situation?  No.  Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

Father, there are a lot of people around who really need your hugs.  Please be free with them  Amen.

September 22 – “Some Brutal Fashion Advice”

Cailyn transmitted some very important information to me the other day.  Information I am sure will be of significant influence on my life in the years I have remaining on this earth.  She noticed I was wearing my new fire department chaplain’s cap.  It has my name and title embroidered on the back in rather bold letters.  I asked her if she thought it would be best if I turned the hat around and wore it backwards (as her Daddy often does, I might add).  That way people could see my name and know who was coming toward them.  She snickered and gave me one of her “looks.”  You know, the kind she is perfecting to use on her future husband, whoever he may be, when he does some silly, guy thing.  When her eyes returned to their normal state (after strangely rolling upward), she declared, “No, DadDad.  You can’t wear your hat that way.  You’re too old.”  Well … ouch.  The pain of aging must have registered on my face, because she hastily added, “Besides, it looks better the other way.”  Ah.  Never thought fashion advice could bring forth such a range of emotion. 

Jim and I met the TWIA guy at the church yesterday to check out our possible damage.  Oh, TWIA … stands for windstorm insurance.  He walked around inside the buildings and took a lot of pictures.  Then he climbed up on both roofs.  Seems the roofs are just fine.  More than fine, actually.  He was quite impressed with the quality of our roofs.  The damage was all from windblown rain, and he was going to turn everything in, but he honestly didn’t expect it to be enough to even meet our deductible.  OK.  Now to find a date for the next church repair day. 

On the positive side, our new AC units for the retreat center have been installed.  Nice job, Lynn.  That completes our goal to replace all four of them up there.  Now we only have to keep our eye on the remaining two in the worship center.  Next big projects to come in the future?  Replacing the flooring in the worship center and re-structuring the audio-visual tech to make it simple. 

Update on the odd structure being constructed next door to our house … I just got word that a certain Nosy Neighbor has once again snuck onto the construction site to poke around.  Some of what he saw can be seen from the street.  They have poured concrete for the driveway.  It goes all the way down one side of the house and circles into the detached shed-garage building, covering what used to be a back yard.  Why?  Low maintenance, I suppose.  By the way, they seem to have reconfigured that shed enough that one could actually fit a car into it.  A tiny car.  And old N.N. reports that the sheetrock is all up inside.  Taping and bedding done and even some very light texturing.  Didn’t really help the rooms look any bigger.  Except maybe the master bedroom walk-in closet.  That still looks big.  We’ll have to stay in touch with our N.N. correspondent for future updates.

Finally … I still haven’t heard anything from the neck doctor.  They are supposed to answer MyChart emails within two business days.  Today marks a week.  Guess I’ll have to make the dreaded phone call and talk to a human being.  That just makes it too real. 

2 Peter 3:10-12 says, “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.  Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming.”

Father, this flooding and hurricane and earthquakes and fires sure could be wake-up calls for a lot of people.  Our response?  We could use some help on that “living holy and godly lives” front.  Amen.

September 21 – “Hats”

I had a chance to wear my pastor hat briefly yesterday morning.  I worked on Sunday’s teaching from the time I woke up, about 5:30 or so, to around ten.  Then I had to kind of slap the Dad hat on top of the pastor one when Nathan and April stopped by to talk with us. 

When they left I switched over to the disaster relief hat, and we headed to Alvin to check on our Seaside team that has been working there every Wednesday since the storm.  I finally heard the “Why Alvin?” story.  Seems our team leader Stephanie was driving up Highway Six, praying for just the right place God wanted the, to focus ministry on.  In Alvin, they stopped at a red light and prayed again.  Then they saw a police officer, and in a flash if insight decided to follow him.  He apparently went inside a bank, so they followed him right in and asked him where he thought the most help was needed in Alvin.  He directed them to this particular neighborhood.  Sounds like a God thing, doesn’t it?  Yep.

I finally met the pastor of the local church there in the Alvin community.  I have spoken to Pastor Domingo on the phone several times, and we have texted information back and forth, so it was good to put a face with the voice.  I let him know that we now had access to some work teams through the North American Mission Board’s Send Relief organization that could help folks in the neighborhood much out their homes.  He invited me to join him in a drive through the community to look for people working.  He showed me the church and the issues it had.  Contractors he has talked to have told him it needs some more structural posts in the center of the building.  Perhaps the biggest concern is that the sub-floor on one side of the room appears to have begun a collapse.  The entire side of the room slants downward from the center.  Not sure what it will take to get that fixed.  Next door to the church was a family hard at work on their house.  Here was a home that needs serious help with being cleared out and gutted.  However, they also need a loving hand. 

On the one hand, here at around four weeks after the storm they have still not been able to remove everything from their home, much less get the moldy walls down.  Why?  The husband and provider works in Afghanistan and had to get special permission from his company to come home for a few days to help.  He is only there for a few more days before he has to fly back.  Any heavy lifting that has been done began a day or so ago when he finally got home and a family member was able to come help.  It will stop when he leaves, because like him, everyone else in the family has to return to work.  He asked me if I wanted to see the inside of the house, so I joined him on a personalized tour.

The house itself is in really bad shape.  There are even holes in the floor that they had nailed pieces of wood over because they had nearly fallen through.  Lots of furniture was still inside the house, with belongings piled high on top to try to keep them out of the flood waters as they rose.  All evidence of the need for some serious, strong help.  As we entered one particular room I could sense a change in my host’s demeanor.  A large piece of plywood separated the room from the rest of the house.  A hospital bed piled with belongings was the focal point, and the other bedroom furniture appeared intact, carefully protected in place.  Sports memorabilia from the Rockets and Astros still hung on the walls.  With a tear in his eye my guide told his story.  Their son had been in an accident and was confined to bed.  This bed.  They had cared for him for ten years here in their home, and about a month ago the son died.  They are reluctant to let anyone else touch the room’s contents until they have a chance to go through everything, piece by piece.  Hence the need for a loving hand as well.

The family does have a very large yard, so they would like for a team to help carry out the precious belongings and place it in the yard so they will have a chance to go through it as they can.  I understand that desire.  I recall the days we spent after Hurricane Ike, in the front yard of our house and in the garage of the homes we stayed in, painstakingly sorting through “new discoveries” of our own precious memories.  I am praying that the team to be sent over will be gentle and caring as well as burly and strong.  And I’m praying that Pastor Domingo will be able to find some more specific homes that are willing to accept the help that is being offered to them. 

I have to say that I am very proud of our Seaside Team.  They fed 150+ people.  In some pretty extreme heat.  Some they gave out plates to while parked on a street corner.  Where it was pretty hot.  Then they moved to the parking lot of the local washateria and gave out some more.  Oh and did I mention that it was hot?  And then they hand-delivered meals to three different apartment complexes. They also gave out cleaning supplies and personal toiletries like soap and toothpaste and deodorant.  Oh and hugs.  They handed out hugs freely, too.  Sweaty hugs full of love, because, you see, it was hot.  96 degrees hot.  On their way to the site Stephanie told me it was threatening rain, so she prayed that God would send his sun to shine down all day.  It would be enough to ask for a nice cloud cover and a cool breeze with no actual rain.  He often does get specific when he answers prayer.

Next Wednesday the plan is to continue with food and supply distribution, but they will also bring an extra trailer with clothes and a few more volunteers to man it.  The people are beginning now to ask about clothing, so it is time to initiate that portion of the relief effort. 

On our way home we stopped by the Boyer’s house in Dickinson to check on them.  As we drove up a wrecker was loading up Rita’s car.  The insurance company had just officially totaled it.  Don is already driving a rental, and she is now fourth in line for a rental, but until then she is figuring out “alternative means” of transportation.  She has a great attitude, though.  One would think she just might know Jesus …

Different hat.  While at Rita’s I got a call from the fire department.  Two of our crews had just been on a pretty horrific accident call.  Trish was just letting me know so I could check in on them when I can to make sure they are effectively processing it.  I’ll have to keep my ear to the ground on that one.

Switch hats.  We stopped by Sam’s and WalMart on the way home to pick up some specific supplies uncovered by the Alvin team. 

Switch hats.  After a shower and some supper I settled in next to my wife to try to stay awake long enough to watch some of the Astros game.  That was … a full day.

2 Peter 3:8-9 says, “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.  The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”

Father, be with the relief team sent to the Alvin home today.  Endow them with supernatural strength laced with supernatural compassion as they deal with that family.  Amen.

September 20 – “A surprise resource”

I made a trip to downtown Galveston yesterday.  I wanted to introduce myself to the on-site coordinator of the North American Mission Board (NAMB).  That’s one of the national hurricane relief agencies operating with Galveston as a base.  I wanted to ask about where they were sending volunteers, what supplies they had available, and how far they were going in their assistance.  The last question was answered rather quickly.  They are here for phase one operations only.  They primarily help empty out and muck out homes, then spray them for mold.  There is apparently an entirely different division that helps with rebuilding homes.  He didn’t know if that division was going to be deployed in this area or not.  He did ask me to send him any addresses I might encounter of homes that still need to be mucked out.  He has a glut of volunteers scheduled, and he wants to use them in this South of Houston area as much as possible.  As I was leaving he gave me a tour of their two shower trailers, a freezer trailer, and an ice machine that have all been set up to provide for the volunteers.

They are not at all set up as a distribution center for supplies or food or clothing.  Well, except for Shockwave, the mold killing product they are using.  He said they will give water bottles full of the stuff with strict instructions on usage (one fourth of a bottle to a gallon of water).  Oh, and on the shower trailer tour he remarked that they had received an entire pallet of dehumidifiers and rolled roofing. 

I went from there over to fire station one to check in with the guys on duty since I was so close.  And that’s when I found out a fairly well-kept secret.  Come to find out there are several fire fighters who live here on the Island who have water damage in their homes.  Now, understand, these are the guys who spent the first few days after the storm on duty or volunteering to help with rescues.  Then they transitioned into creating work crews to tear out the moldy sheetrock and flooring in other fire fighter homes.  All the while, they never bothered to let on that their own homes had received some damage as well.  See, parts of the Island did receive heavy rainfall, and depending on the drainage capacity of individual neighborhoods, some parts did experience flooding.  But these fire fighters never told anyone about their damage because they considered it minor in comparison to what the folks on the mainland were undergoing.  Minor?  OK.  But still a significant drain on their personal time and resources.  Two of the guys were apparently still trying to get their homes to dry out enough to continue with repairs.  They needed a … dehumidifier.  Ding.  Ding.  Ding.  My old brain may be deteriorating, but even I could make that connection.

I put in a call to the NAMB guy I had just spent an hour or so with.  When he heard that a request was coming in for a dehumidifier that two first responders could share, he would have none of it.  He insisted that they each be given one, with no strings attached.  He was even willing to deliver them to the station himself.  I offered to do it for him, since I could take them directly to the guys’ homes that needed them, and he was appreciative.  I think deep down he really just wanted to go visit a fire station.  What little boy doesn’t love a fire truck?  I assured him he would be more than welcome, but in the end his tight schedule forced him to comply with my offer. 

I made contact with each of the fire fighters, and dropped off the dehumidifiers.  They were both humbled and excited.  The plan is to make the machines available to whoever might need them now, them to store them at the fire fighters’ union hall for when the next “event” occurs.  And it will occur.  Leave it to our fire fighters to be prepared for the future.

2 Peter 1:10-11 says, “Therefore, my brothers, be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure. For if you do these things, you will never fall, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

Father, once again you amaze me with the way you meet needs before we even know what they will be.  Thank you for that.  Amen.

September 19 – “A very Freddy day”

Yesterday was a very Freddy kind of day.  For those of you who don’t know, Freddy is one of our three dogs.  Heidi, Fritz, and Freiderecke.  See why we call her Freddy?  There’s actually more to the story of her name, but you’ll have to check my blog posts from about a year ago to get the full impact.  "Impact."  Yep, that’s the right word.  We have had Freddy since the Day of the Impact … the day Chris hit her with the car. 

So Freddy had the kind of day that most dogs can only dream of.  Oh, it began harmlessly enough.  Cavorting in the back yard with Fritz and the German Shepherd that lives behind us.  Heidi generally avoids such meaningless encounters, preferring instead to remain in the air conditioned comfort of her bed.  Later in the morning, though, Freddy was lounging on a pillow in one of the recliners when she suddenly leapt from her perch and raced to the front door.  And the barking began.  Well, she is a small dog, so it would probably be more accurate to say the yipping began.  Fritz followed within seconds, and a few seconds after that we realized that the problem was making his way up the driveway … the postman cometh.

Now here’s the thing about the postman.  Early that morning … I mean, really early.  It was exactly 7:48 a.m. in fact … I was startled to glance out the front window to see a mail lady delivering something to out mailbox.  I thought surely I was dreaming, but no.  She had sure enough made a mail delivery before 8 a.m.  Amazing.  Of course, we had had no mail delivered at all on Saturday, and it was obvious she was making up for that, but it was still an all-time record.  But back to the Freddy encounter.  She was doing her job, rather admirably, I must say, when this second postman made his appearance.  But something happened that served to not only disconcert her, but in fact threaten her entire sense of canine protocol.  The mailman … came inside.  That’s right, he didn’t just rattle the little box by the door and turn quickly to make his escape.  He opened the door and came inside.  And we seemed to be perfectly all right with it.  The yipping stopped and the sniffing began.  And the wiggling.  And the tail wagging.  And the licking.  Within seconds Freddy transitioned from protection mode to full on consorting with the mailman.

OK, I know you all know by now that the mailman was my son Kel.  He had been given a route near here, so he came over to have lunch in air conditioned comfort instead of sitting in the sauna box of a mail truck.  But did Freddy’s friends and neighbors know?  And would they be forgiving and accepting when next she sounds the postman alarm?  Or would there be only choruses of “Hah.  That’s the mailman-lover over at the Vaughan house.  Can’t trust her.  I’m not barking until I see the blue of his shirt for myself.”  Sigh.  Poor Freddy. 

2 Peter 1:5-9 says, “For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love.  For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Father, help me to be like Freddy, ready to accept into friendship even her sworn enemy.  And thank you for a bit of a respite in our day yesterday.  I had no idea how much rest I really did need.  Could you grease some wheels in the doctor department so I can get an appointment and get this neck checked out?  Amen.

September 18 – “Playing flood”

Our Lake Jackson connections have finally begun to kick in as our friends across the San Luis Pass begin to return to their homes.  Yesterday after church we helped one of our Seasiders load up a truck with bleach and other supplies.  They were heading to help out two specific families, but they were also redistributing some of the supplies we had into a church over in Lake Jackson.  It’s always best to get the resources as close as possible to the people who actually need then.

Chris showed me a photo the other day.  Christina had just sent a text with a picture of Noa playing with her doll house toys.  Not such a big deal, right?  That’s what little girls do.  But in this case, it was the accompanying commentary that made the image come alive.  She had the toy furniture all lined up in a row.  Why, you may ask?  “My kitchen flooded,” she responded.  Her older brothers had spent some time doing some mucking out, and they had seen some of the devastation in their trips to relief stations to deliver and pick up supplies for neighbors.  Do three year olds pay attention?  Oh, yes. 

Guess I’m cutting things short today.  I have to prepare for a funeral this morning.  A very sweet lady who often came to our home group years ago died.  Her daughter Kathy played an important role in Josh’s life as she gave him one of his first jobs in a coffee shop they ran.  Please pray for that family as you recall them this morning.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

Father, would you walk with Kathy and Trish and all of their family as they make their way through their grieving process.  Amen.

September 17 – “Man Down Two”

Well, after Lauren’s announcement the other day that she was Seaside’s fire “man down” as a result of the storm relief efforts (she was sick from the mold exposure), I have to announce that it looks like I am Man Down Two.  I have officially reached my lift limit for my back and neck and knee.  The pain got to be bad enough that I finally agreed to call for a neurosurgeon appointment.  That would be for my neck.  Tingling, itchy streaks shooting from my neck up into my ear.  Very weird feeling.  Problem is, I wake up at night and realize I have scratched at my ear enough to make it bleed.  Last time I saw him for my lower back he basically said I should try to live with it and avoid surgery unless it got too difficult to walk.  But he added that if I ever had issues arise with my neck that I was to give him a call.  The knee?  I don’t know.  Maybe if I just rest it …

We did manage a little bit of an adventure yesterday.  We drove to League City to see Jachin play a baseball game.   Well, two games.  It was a doubleheader.  Now, if anyone tried to leave the Island yesterday via the causeway, you know that traffic was backed up onto the bridge.  Construction had everyone funneling into one lane.  But hark.  The voice of Google Siri came to our rescue.  She suggested an alternate route through.  With some difficulty (we made a wrong turn or two) we finally located a little known road that led us right to Highway 3.  It enabled us to avoid the treacherous roadwork that has already put a crack in our windshield and apparently hundreds of others.  It was an adventure to us, though.  Especially the part where we laughed at the many other vehicles who couldn’t understand Siri’s route suggestions. 

We did make it to the games.  And was it ever hot.  The field had no shade, either.  And we were far enough away from the Island that there was not much of a breeze.  The boys were absolutely dragging all through the second game.  Even Chris almost threw up.  The guys did pretty well, though.  Jachin’s team won one and lost one, but in their loss they came back from a 9 run deficit and made the score a bit closer.

Oh, and I did something I have never done before.  I dropped my cell phone.  Well, I have dropped my phone before, but this time when it hit … the screen cracked.  Not shattered like some I have seen, though.  It is just a crack across the top.  So now I have to poll my friends and family who have preceded me in cracked-screen-dom to see what I’m supposed to do next. 

I almost made it through a whole post here without a comment on the relief efforts taking place.  But I do have one thing.  We were going to stop by some folks’ houses in Dickinson to check on them, but we were both feeling woozy from the heat, so we headed home.  As we drove down the freeway through Dickinson, however, we glanced to our right and saw the massive appliance graveyard.  Stoves, refrigerators, washers, dryers completely filling the parking lot of a former furniture store.  Absolutely sobering as to its sheer magnitude.  I wasn’t able to get a photo since we were on the freeway, but if you want to see a representation of the destruction from the flood, drive I45 through Dickinson and look to the west.

2 Peter 1:3 says, “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.”

Father, thank you for protecting those boys as they played in the heat yesterday.  Speaking of protecting, be with the folks who have the responsibility of gathering and disposing of all those appliances.  That is an unsung and absolutely necessary job.  Amen.