The ways of water

We die for lack of it. Yet too much of it also brings death and destruction. It is unreal how such a pure substance that cools, quenches, and refreshes is also capable of stripping, exposing, and destroying. The same water that can offer reflections of beauty on a mountain lake in autumn can also mock. It has laid bare entire homes, neighborhoods, and cities.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Florence, people in communities all around North Carolina and the Southeast are returning home to devastation unlike anything they’ve experienced before. Houses and lives have been lost. Others are forever changed. THINGS are being removed from uninhabitable dwellings and piled at the roadside to be hauled away.

Ruined things in public view. The visual evidence of tremendous loss. A necessary prerequisite for any efforts to restore or rebuild.

They are no longer of use, but they are not just THINGS.

What is heaped up along the curb is not solely the material possessions formerly owned by individuals impacted by Florence. These things are the set and props in the life stories of those who are letting them go. They hold memories many of us will never know. They contain the great beauty of lives lived with family and friends, of love and laughter shared, in good times and bad. And they are the visual representation of lives interrupted.

Mom and dad, as piles of tarnished beauty are hauled away, know that the outside world mourns with you. We are so sad for all that was lost. May you and your neighbors continue to experience the presence of God in the presence of friends and strangers who are weeping and working alongside you. May your interrupted lives begin to fill with new memories and stories as even now work begins to make all things new. In the chaos, know that you are held by the One who is mightier than raging waters (Psalm 93:4).