VEHICLES OF HOPE

Serving Others on the Road to Satisfaction

The Worst That Can Happen

The pivotal moment in Larry's and my decision-making process, as we contemplated embarking on this new lifestyle, was when we asked ourselves, "What is the worst that can happen to us?" Facing the worst that can happen, either in our imaginations or in reality, is often an epiphany. For the first time perhaps, we see more clearly than ever that life is so much more than security, possessions, getting ahead or any of the other things we have spent it striving for. This is often the case with people who have had near-death experiences and "come back" with clarity of purpose and an altered perspective and vision of life that is drastically different from before.

As a result of such an experience, Dale and Jeannie Peercy are full-time missionaries for Lutheran Disaster Response. We met the Peercys when they joined forces with us in Timber Lake, South Dakota, to lend their experience and skills to help manage the projects of the large mission group from Ohio. The couple had been in the mission field for almost two years and had spent the last 7 1/2 months coordinating the repair of 123 homes damaged by the winter storms in the area of Opal, about 100 miles west of Selby. Like Ramona, they helped to mend broken hearts and spirits, as well.

Dale, who had his own successful construction business for 20 years, was stricken with pancreatitis (inflammation of the pancreas) in 1995 and was so near death that his family and friends were called to his bedside to say their good-byes. Dale survived, however, and during his recovery he learned hard, humbling lessons about being in need and accepting help. They changed the direction of his life. In January 1996, Dale sold his business, Jeannie closed her house painting and drywall enterprise, and they signed on with LDR. "I really think it [missionary work] was our purpose, our calling," Dale proclaimed in an interview in the February 23, 1998 Rapid City Journal.

I believe that, in one way or another, people who have encountered and survived a major catastrophe have a similar revelation--some stronger and more lasting than others. If only for a brief time, they see clearly that, stripped of all its outer trappings, life is sweet and precious, and that love is its true essence. As much as anything, I believe it is this realization, augmented by its visible manifestation through the outpouring of caring, generosity and support from others, that sustains disaster survivors along the lengthy and arduous road to recovery.

The Primacy Of Relationships

To be sure, not all people remain open to that understanding and, in some measure, their ability to maintain it may depend on their faith and outlook on life prior to the event. However, many whose lives are most changed are those who had little faith before, yet report that the "hand of God" touched them and "saved them for a purpose." Though they still must deal with all the stages of the healing process--frustration, anger, periods of depression--overarching all, they have caught a glimpse that the good in life is far greater than the bad, and that our lives are not separate entities but, rather, are intricately connected and interwoven. What we observed in almost all the survivors of the three disasters we were involved with is that the one awareness, above all others, that was gained from their personal tragedy was the primacy of relationships.

One young woman in Oak Grove definitely understood. Standing in front of her leveled high school as her class prepared for their graduation ceremony in a cleared field in back, she shared that she "was not going to have my senior year remembered for one mean wind. I realize family and friends are what you have. Personal possessions don't matter." While finishing high school in a makeshift classroom, she made a decision to become a nurse.

Feeling connected is one of the most critical factors in the healing process. Because ordinary life (in our country, at least) has become much more complex, mobile, and detached, there has been a growing body of research aimed at determining what factors contribute to a person's resilience in the face of uncontrollable stresses and upheavals. Sociologists and psychologists have begun moving away from an emphasis on victimization toward a focus on survival and resilience. (Thus, it is preferable to refer to people as storm survivors rather than storm victims.) Companies and organizations are even training people in resilience skills.

Although the potential to be resilient seems to be more innately present in some people than in others, researchers now believe resilience can be learned. Factors contributing to resilience, such as strong problem-solving ability and a questioning mind, have been identified. But, interestingly, according to Monika Guttman in her article "Resilience" (USA Weekend, March 5-7, 1999), almost all of the landmark studies have concluded that, contrary to our cultural belief that rugged individualism prepares us to face adversity, "one of the most important skills is the ability to be and feel connected to others" (italics mine).

Recognizing Our Connectedness

For most of us, however, the awareness of our connectedness does not come all at once. I liken the gradual realization to one of my favorite childhood pastimes--completing connect-the-dot drawings. I was intrigued by looking at a page full of seemingly disconnected dots and knowing that they formed a picture I could not yet see. My anticipation would mount as I moved my pencil from dot to dot and tried to guess what the hidden picture was. Sometimes it was easy to discern; other times it wasn't clear until the end.

I have begun to see life itself like those dot drawings. It is often difficult to comprehend the big picture, to recognize the connection between individual people and events in our lives, but most of us have a deep knowing that there is a picture out there bigger than our own individual dots. And until we can see it, we live with the feeling that something is missing.

I have come to my awareness of our spiritual connectedness through a growing understanding and incorporation of the meaning of the life and teachings of Jesus and my own personal communion with God. As Kathleen Brehony asserts in her book Ordinary Grace:

"The belief that all beings are part of a connected cosmic web . . . is informed not only by modern research in physics, bioecology, chemistry, and chaos theory, but by every great religion and tradition of wisdom known to the world.

"But many of us have forgotten our own true natures and the exquisite unity that binds all things together. Our modern world, with its emphasis on materialism, rationalism, and separatism, has lost sight of the cosmos as a coherent whole in which every aspect of creation is vitally related to everything else, and in which each of us is an indispensable part of all that is."

Spiritual Kin

The chief problem is that the picture we are trying to see cannot be perceived through our senses, which are interpreted by our minds. Our minds perceive others as separate entities, disconnected from us--strangers, competitors, threats. In order to see the picture I am talking about, we need to view people through the window of our hearts. Only then will we comprehend that, spiritually, we are all kin to one another.

In more primal cultures such as the one Larry and I encountered in Nigeria, connectedness is fostered by broadening family delineations. Thus, all members of one's tribe or village are referred to as brothers and sisters. This minimizes individualism and fosters greater concern for the wider circle.

I am reminded of an illustrative incident that took place one day in our home in Nigeria when a painter came to redecorate our kitchen after several patches had been made on the concrete walls. As I cleared away the dishes and remains from our lunch, I offered him a leftover sandwich. Gratefully accepting it, he took a bite and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later, he reappeared in the doorway, standing there with the sandwich in his hand, still with only one bite eaten. When I asked if he didn't like it, he answered that it was very good.

Obviously, something was definitely bothering him, but he seemed hesitant to say what. Then, all of a sudden, he blurted out, "Please excuse me. I must go out and share this with my brother." Stepping outside, he called another worker over, broke the sandwich in two, and handed his brother half. Only then did he relax and enjoy his share. Such is the profound difference in our relationships when, with our hearts, we recognize our brothers and sisters as extensions of ourselves.

As You Give, So Shall You Receive

However much we may see serving others as an optional, selfless act, I believe that in truth it is fulfilling an inborn "selfish" need to feel connected to the whole body, to the all of life. It teaches us that our fulfillment is intrinsically linked with our relationship to others.

As we discussed this very issue, Phyllis, the woman from Rapid City who worked with us at the armory, shared with me a story she had recently heard about a person who was given a glimpse of Heaven and Hell. As the door to the room marked Hell was opened, the person saw thin, gaunt bodies sitting along both sides of a long banquet table laden with appetizing food. Their bodies were twisted and contorted as they made vain attempts to negotiate the food to their mouths with three-foot-long spoons, cursing and crying out in frustration, anger and hunger.

In the next room marked Heaven, the setting was the same: a long table laden with food and people seated on either side with three-foot-long spoons in their hands. But these people were plump, smiling and content. For instead of vainly attempting to feed themselves, they were lovingly feeding each other!

So many volunteers, whether they helped for a day, a week, or a month, indicated they were responding to "a need to be here." In acknowledging that need, they were feeding and nurturing themselves as surely as the survivors. Dale Peercy discussed this truth in the April 1998 LDR newsletter Recovery. "We get a whole lot of praise from people who tell us that we're special, and it's hard for us to accept. Whenever someone thanks us, we want to turn around and thank them. We're getting the blessing. We're getting the joy out of it."

Another aspect of the giving/receiving equation that I observed is that those who had been most generous and giving before disaster struck were the ones most often showered with unsolicited help in their own time of need. We often refer to this truism with phrases such as, "What goes around, comes around" or "What you sow, you reap." I think this principle is also expressed (and not just in the monetary sense) when we say the "rich get richer and the poor get poorer." For in order to "get rich" in any aspect of one's life, one needs to give out--even, sometimes, everything one has. Something there is in the universe that does not like a void, and it rushes in to fill it. Conversely, those who hoard and cling to what they have, generally are stuck with just that!

Ken Moses, a high school principal, who is a member of the Rock Creek Church of God, demonstrates this principle in his daily life. According to Mrs. Staggs (the pastor's wife), Ken was always the first to respond when there was any need in the church or community. Her eyes watered as she elaborated.

At the foot-washing service the night of the storm, Pastor Staggs had just finished washing Ken's feet when the 30 members present were alerted that the tornado was approaching. As most of them headed for the ladies restroom, Ken hopped into his car and drove the short distance to his rental home. He could see the tornado coming and got inside a closet, fell to his knees and prayed. The tornado picked up the house and hurtled it across the road. It exploded on impact, leaving Ken beneath the wreckage.

Everyone in the church searched for him immediately after they emerged from their demolished Family Life Center. He was found disoriented, suffering internal injuries and broken ribs.

Two weeks later, when Ken was released from the hospital, he came to church, barely able to walk with the aid of a cane. The tornado had taken everything he owned, yet Ken was observed putting a large-denomination bill in the offering for tornado victims, and later refused to accept money from the church to pay his renter's insurance deductible. "I don't want it," he said, "but call if you need me for anything."

Though 80% of the congregation had suffered major losses, they were all in agreement about wanting to do something for this man who always set such a high standard of magnanimity for them. Under the coordination of the State Minister, the congregation purchased a lot for Ken, furnished the materials and built him a home of his own.

To Ken, Dorothy, Mariesha, George and Josephine, and others who throughout the course of their lives had given generously of their time, talent and money, in their own hour of need it was returned in "good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over. . ." (Luke 6:38, NIV).

An Attitude Of Gratitude

It was a constant amazement to us that people who had been so battered and traumatized could respond with such compassion, find so much to be thankful for, and trust that somehow there was goodness beneath the veneer of destruction and despair.

In his book Spiritual Economics, Eric Butterworth maintains that "thanksgiving is not just a reactionary emotion; it is a causative energy. It is an effective key by which anyone may 'meet life as a powerful conqueror'" (the words of Walt Whitman).

Seeing all circumstances through the lens of a grateful heart is to view events from a "high level perspective." Butterworth asserts that from that elevated viewpoint we will "see things creatively, leading to an attitude that is constructive and optimistic." Perhaps his assertion explains what we observed in many of the storm survivors: those who were able to see reasons to be thankful were able to endure enormous loss with a remarkable degree of peace and resolve.

I'm reminded of the last afternoon we cleaned up in McDonald Chapel. We were about ready to leave for home after clearing the lot on which Mariesha's neighbors had lived (the couple had died when they were swept under Mariesha's garage). A car pulled up, and a petite lady and a gentleman stepped out. Neighbors from across the road met and accompanied them slowly up the driveway. They stood in front of the barren foundation for a long while just looking, the woman occasionally shaking her head in acknowledgment as her neighbor spoke. Progressing to the back of the yard, the neighbors pointed behind Mariesha's house where the bodies had been found. Then they turned and walked toward us.

"Thank you for being here," the lady said to us. "My parents lived here." We extended our sympathy. After again earnestly expressing her appreciation for what we were doing, she told us that she lived out of town and had called every relief agency trying to get word of her "mama and step-daddy" when she heard about the storm. She knew instinctively that something was terribly wrong. "But I know they're in Heaven," she said confidently. "I want to believe God took them in an eye-blink. I need to hold onto that image, even though perhaps it isn't true," she confided.

"They found only three of my parents personal items," she added. "Mama's charm bracelet, their study Bible, and a tape of them singing together. Each one represents something special about their lives. I believe they are little gifts from God."

Larry and I were deeply touched not only by this woman's heartfelt expressions of gratitude toward us, but also by her ability to be thankful for what appeared to be so little.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Of course, the role of faith in a God of love, and belief in the continuity of life beyond our present existence, cannot be overlooked as a powerful factor in how people responded to the aftermath of the disasters.

Those, whose faith ran deep, saw the disaster as a happenstance of life to be accepted and overcome. They assigned no blame, and they believed and expected something good to emerge from apparent tragedy. They experienced pain and sorrow, but their inner core remained unshaken. Their faith gave them strength to carry on because they trusted that God's loving arms were around them right there in the midst of the rubble. Such was the steadfast faith we saw exhibited by Dorothy.

I also think of the Seale family in Rock Creek, Alabama, whose home was picked up by the tornado and blown apart, flinging the family into the woods 250 feet away. A week after the tragedy, paralyzed from the waist down, the father lay on a gurney at Children's Hospital next to his eight-year-old son, Nathan, who was losing his hold on life. From those watching on TV, he solicited prayers and shared his desire to one day hold his son again. Then, tearfully, he affirmed, "Even in this darkest time, I know that God will find a way to bring good from this."

Days later, Nathan died with his mother at his side praying and comforting him as he was taken off life support. "We know God is in control of everything, and despite the pain, that makes it bearable and acceptable," she was quoted as saying in the August/September 1998 Good News free newspaper formerly published by Shades Mountain Independent Church in Hoover, Alabama. What more powerful testimony could there be to the peace such faithfulness brings.

Accentuating The Positive

Some of the great unsung heroes in my eyes are the spouses and children of the countless volunteers who put their lives on hold for weeks and months to devote their full-time energies to relief and recovery efforts. I'm sure there were numerous children's functions missed and many Hamburger Helper and fast food meals eaten while moms were busy cooking for storm survivors.

I'm inclined to believe, however, that a little old-fashioned sacrifice isn't a bad thing. Children learn compassion and caring by seeing it exhibited in the adults around them, even though they might not fully understand it at the time. Many children who were old enough to help were given the opportunity to feel useful and a part of the effort, also something good for character building. In fact, some of the most touching gestures were from children.

Taped on the kitchen bulletin board in the armory in Salem, South Dakota, were numerous letters and expressions of sympathy sent along with donations, many of them from children. One was a picture with a simple hand-printed message--"I'm sorry." Another child drew a house, tree and animal with a rainbow over the top of them. On a big piece of poster board was a letter from a nine-year-old in Yankton, South Dakota:

Dear Spencer South Dakota,

I'm very sorry about the tornado on Sat. I want you to be safe for a long time. Last night I said a prayer for you to not die and that you would earn enough money. I guess it came true! . . . I donated $2.50 and soap, shampoo, toilet paper, Avon samples, socks, and underwear. I want you to all be safe.

Without a doubt, not everyone responded charitably. There were instances of looting, thievery, greed, and just plain taking advantage in all the situations we encountered--even on the part of some of the survivors. However, in comparison to the overwhelming support and generosity of thousands of decent, ordinary citizens, and the compassion and gratefulness of the majority of survivors, those instances are barely worth mentioning.

Furthermore, I contend that more regular attention sorely needs to be given to goodness. Too often we give recognition to that which we should minimize, and convey the message that goodness is not fashionable or worthy of our attention. If the evening news showed half as many instances of good news as it does bad, perhaps we wouldn't be so amazed by the altruism that is exhibited during an emergency. And, perhaps, more people would be inspired and encouraged to express their benevolent inclinations without needing the impetus of a disaster.

Standing The Test

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him," reads James 1:12 (NIV). There were, indeed, so many people we observed who stood the test and not only brought blessing and honor to themselves, but were an inspiration to those of us who were there to help them.

My friend Margaret commented after reading this manuscript: "All these people seem larger than life, but taken in context, I somehow feel they are just as ordinary as me. We all have that potential for grace and service. We just need to allow it to flow as the occasion arises."

And therein lies the heart of the matter--the strength and nobility of the human spirit, waiting beneath the surface to be called forth and to shine. I have no doubt, after what we've seen, that we human beings can be so much more than we often are.