October 4 - “Bulldozer Wars”

 As the trash began to pile up in our yard and all along our street for that matter, it was hard not to reminisce over random items we could see.  Chris had had her time a few days ago when “The Claw” came to Gulf Village.  The Claw was a huge machine attached to the back of an equally huge dump truck.  It operated just like one of those games at Chucky Cheese where you move the claw until it is positioned right over the stuffed animal you really want.  Then you push the button.  The claw falls.  And grabs.  And you hope it holds on long enough to get your prize into the trough that will deliver it to you.  The Claw was like that.  Except there was no winner’s trough.  And though it dropped its share of trash, much more made it into the dump truck.  The Claw is what found Chris’ piano.  Yes, her old upright piano.  The one she took lessons on as a child.  The flood had knocked it to its back, and it was covered in mold, and the keys were stuck together.  It belonged in the path of the Claw.  But that didn’t make it hurt any less for Chris when its time came.  Ignoring all else – refrigerator, freezer, dryer – The Claw chose the piano and closed upon it with the full force of its huge jaws.  It lifted up.  No strain at all for The Claw, but bits and pieces of the piano rained from the sky.  And then it was gone.  All that remained was the mirror and a bit of wood from the back, salvaged as a reminder of earlier glory days.

 The Claw was an intimidating sight, but I will most remember … Bulldozer Wars.  Since The Claw couldn’t pick up everything, it wasn’t long before bulldozers roared onto Sycamore Drive.  Sometimes there was just one, dutifully pushing the scattered debris into larger piles.  The drivers were very nice guys.  When one of them knocked open our refrigerator and released the horrendous stench that had been contained within, the driver gladly pushed the offensive odor-carrier away from our front yard.  Some days – my favorite – two bulldozers came.  One was a smaller version called a Bobcat, and the other was a huge scraper that definitely deserved to join The Claw on the same page of a children’s book on road machines.  These two monsters would line up, face to face in the middle of the street.  It reminded me of an old low-budget Western movie.  Then, without warning, they would speed toward each other, scraping as they flew.  And just before they would have come together in a spectacular collision, they stopped.  They viewed the pile of rubble between them, solemnly pushed it aside, and began again.  We all had a much-needed laugh when the giant dozer ran over a stray basketball.  The result was a loud pop that could be heard even over the running engine.  In fact it scared the driver so much that he jumped out of his cab and ran over to see if we were OK.  We laughed and told him about the basketball.  Relieved, he told us that earlier he had run over a box of bullets, and they exploded into the crowd of people nearby.  No one was hurt, but now he was sure jumpy!

Well, of all the excitement that arrived with The Claw and the bulldozers, it was the little things that got my attention.  Once when the Bobcat was alone, it decided to make a sweep through our rubble.  One of the victims was a Little Tyke Bike – a toddler-style bicycle that Micah and Zakary enjoyed riding.  But the Little Tyke Bike refused to go down easily.  Pushed into a bigger pile across the street, all the trash dutifully remained – except the Little Tyke Bike.  It held on to the scoop, refusing to give up.  The Bobcat dipped and weaved and shook and spun, trying to get rid of the pesky little flea (Yes, this really happened!).  And the picture I especially loved … when Little Tyke Bike finally flew free and landed alone in the middle of the street, the Bobcat raised its huge arm as if in tribute, and backed away to find and fight another battle.

 Ever felt like a Little Tyke Bike fighting a huge bulldozer?  I sure have.  I sure do right now.  It’s frightening and overwhelming and humbling.  It makes you cry.  It makes you scream.  It makes you want to sit there and do nothing.  It makes you long for a return to the way things were.  But I know I just have to hang on.  Just a little longer.  I’m not alone, not really.  Family is here.  South Oaks is here.  Bay Area is here.  God is here.  Deuteronomy 31:6 says, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

 Father, when I feel like the bulldozers are about to overtake me, give me the tenacity of a Little Tyke Bike and the touch of your hand on my shoulder.  Then I’ll make it.  Amen.