"My name is Willimay." She shook my hand and smiled at me right in the eyes. She subconciously brings out my own southern drawl. Behind us-- flattened mangled houses, a community once scattered with pecan trees older then our country, now they kiss the earth leaves still green.
In front of us-- her house standing firm. Proud she told me, "We painted it two weeks before the tornado came." Her neighbors called it Barney because of the specific glossy shade of purple, but not Willimay, she said Jesus wore purple. "So my house is still standing".
19 people/38 hands started working right away when we got there. Black trash bags in one hand they went out picking up pieces of rubble: torn shingles rippped from roofs, business papers wipped from office desk miles down the road. We find a teddy bear far from it's home face down in the woods.
With a tear in her voice, "I've lived here 60 years, and I ain't never seen anything like like this". She breathes deep, "Never anything like this." Ringgold sits in a valley. It's a small country town. But whoever said tornados don't go through mountains was a liar. We could trace the destructive path straight up the mountain side.
The chainsaw whines. I may not be blessed with muscles strong enough to hurl logs off of roofs, or to carry them on my shoulders to the roadside where the government will take them away. I may not be skilled enough to rebuild a house when the foundations have shifted and water's dripps into living rooms from the ceiling. The sweat of hard work runs down the brow of our hardworking relief team. Willimay invites me to walk with her to her church a block away. We walk through the yard, and she tells me about how after the storm they went to the church to find that the outside of it was completely destroyed, and the inside looked like it had never seen the wind. The pews, perfectly in line, a basket of artificial flowers positioned on a table up front. Ironically, the entire North wall wasn't there. Willimay and I walked through her church parking lot. and she showed me. We stepped through a gash in the tarp that covered the wide open wall.
She told me, "When we came back to the church the first time after the storm, we found some bibles opened up. One was turned to Psalm 50, the other turned to Proverbs 1." At this point I was really wishing that I had a memorized version of the bible on file in my mind, but I tried to remember the references so I could look it up after I got back to the bus since I had a little bible in my purse. Willimay talked on about how God was telling this community that it was time to get right with him, since time is so short. I'm amazed at the faith of this woman. She wasn't mad at God for destroying her neighborhood.
We walked back from the church, and I went to the bus to get my bible. I read the first few verse and gasped at the third one.
"The Mighty One, God, the LORD, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to where it sets.
From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth.
Our God comes and will not be silent;
a fire devours before him, and around him a tempest rages." Psalm 50:1-3
I told this verse to a few of the girls, and it sent goosebumps up their arms. I suppose this is a mighty part of our God that we're unfamiliar with. I walked up to Willimay stating my astonishment with this verse, and she invited me into her living room, and sat her own bible in my lap, and told me to turn to Proverbs 1. The team still hauling tree branches to the roadside.
“How long will you who are simple love your simple ways?
How long will mockers delight in mockery and fools hate knowledge?
Repent at my rebuke! Then I will pour out my thoughts to you,
I will make known to you my teachings.
But since you refuse to listen when I call and no one pays attention when I stretch out my hand,
since you disregard all my advice and do not accept my rebuke,
I in turn will laugh when disaster strikes you;
I will mock when calamity overtakes you— when calamity overtakes you like a storm,
when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you." Proverbs 1:22-27
My eyes are only opened to the clear whirlwind reference now as I write this. I asked Willimay, what she though this meant. She said, "This community for far too long has ignored God. God is calling them to get right with him. This life is too short! They need to get right with God now." She seemed so strong, so full of powerful faith. She's "a voice in the wilderness" calling people towards God, and yet the Holy Spirit told me that if I asked one more question I might get to see the hidden disaster zone in her own heart. A simple question, "How can I pray for you?" Tears welled up in her eyes, and her heart opened wide.
Some people may be skilled at clearing broken trees, but God has me working on broken hearts. Together, the will of God accomplished. A beautiful thing.
We walked back outside and pointed to a little funny-looking plant in a pot outside her house, we had a conversation about it for a minute, and then she decided to give it to me. I told her that I wasn't sure I could take care of it, but she said that if it could survive a tornado, then it could survive for me. hehe It's called a Chicken and Hen.
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| Chicken and Hen |
