Returning home

Driving toward our neighborhood on Tuesday was difficult. Earlier on Monday morning, we were awakened by the Austell police driving through our neighborhood, with lights flashing and their P.A. announcing, "Please leave your houses immediately. Sweetwater Creek is rising. Evacuate your homes now." or something to that effect. We grabbed the things we could not live without and left.
Now on Tuesday afternoon, as my friend was driving my son and myself back to our neighborhood, we could not get close to it because there were so many others trying to get a peek at it too. Each time we tried, we were stopped further back down the road.
After my husband got home from work, he gathered us for another ride to our street. This time we could get through. It was surreal. The scene was a little like driving to a pier, where cars are parked on the sides and people are walking to get to a closer look at a body of water.
The body of water that they were looking out over is what stands out in my mind too. A smooth sheet of brown water moves past us. Not a creek any longer, a river. We noted that the stop sign that was once covered is now visible. Someone's car is floating over in the brown water.
You see, that river floating past us disguises the new bridge that was built over the spring and summer, and was just opened as school began in August. This new bridge was to be a lifesaver for this community because we watched overhead as it was being built a good 20-30 feet higher than the last bridge. The old bridge was often out with high water but now, this new improved, HIGHER bridge is covered in water, well over the railings. This is what has captured the attention of our neighbors, and friends who are taking picture after picture of brown water before them.
When my family drove out of the neighborhood on Monday morning just after 6, we drove through a little trickle of water. Within four hours, a friend emailed me, concerned because she had seen a photo on a news website of our submerged street sign.
We expect each day to be the same as we wake up and begin our days. We expect the bridge to be there when we get out of our neighborhoods to go to school and work. We expect that we will come home to the same house to the same people. Now we are trying to make sense of the past few days. My family is fortunate. We have been inconvenienced somewhat. We have been loved on by friends who took us into their home. We have our house still fairly dry, just a little water in the basement which many people have had this week.
Our neighbors and others in our community not so much. Houses are sitting under water, houses and cars marked by brown water stains as flood waters recede.
My family was able to walk into the neighborhood and view the scene from the inside. It is eerily quiet and cars are parked on the one little hill by my house. Fortunately everyone was safe throughout the flooding. People are walking around, taking stock of what they have - their families by their side, their friends, their pets, their lives. People are reaching out to one another, greeting each other. Sadly, we don't know many of our neighbors -- we are all too busy to stop to get to know them.
It's not too late. We have a second chance. We can reach across the street and lend a hand in the clean up. We can listen to the stories and hold a hand. We know we can't count on stuff, things. We are reminded that the important stuff that we cannot live without are the people - even those we don't know across the street.

Shall We Gather at the River?

I spent my Sunday worship time in three places: in our traditional service for the congregational singing until I gathered the children for children's worship, then I led the prayer time for children's church, and then joined the Marietta Campmeeting for the sermon. This activity on Sunday gave me opportunity to consider the foundations of my spiritual life.

The old hymns we sang in the traditional service spoke to the deepest part of soul as they were songs from childhood. Foundational faith stirrings came to the surface as I sang with the congregation, "Shall We Gather at the River?" The words resonate with my soul.

"Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God."

Thinking of the saints that I have encountered through the years, I am moved to strive on a little better, holding my head up high - proud of my spiritual heritage. As I moved to children's church with my little charge, I engage in a conversation of a different nature. The childish joy of the little boy over his recent accomplishment: tying his shoes, also brings me back to a foundational time in my life. I remember a sweet Sunday school teacher who shared those accomplishments with me long ago.

"Thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven"

The children move their chairs to the center of the room to begin our time of sharing highs and lows (Joys and concerns). I begin selecting children to share their prayers. Young boy with a fresh hair cut is exuberant that his father is home from his military post, a little girl has received a new purse, several of our regular families are traveling on vacation. Summer time boo boos consume our prayer time. But I remember how the death of young child in our community has deeply impacted two of our families and some of our troubled youth are facing more tough decisions. I remember children in a neighborhood are about to be dispersed to new neighborhoods where they will be strangers, not friends.


God is with us.


As I enter the arbor, I moved by the sense of history that I see and feel. The breeze is delightful playing between the rustic pews and blooming crepe myrtles stand in for stained glass windows. The little hymnals and funeral home fans harken me back to a past day. I imagine the Conestoga wagons that may have been pulled by mules and horses from 20-30 miles away a hundred years ago. The "tents" which surround the arbor complete the historic picture. The preacher up front reminds us of our Jesus invited all to His table. That we are all included. And later, he lives up to Jesus' promise as he opens the Holy Communion table to us.

Our faith is ancient and transcends man's division of time. Our faith is our heritage, passed on to us. We get to pass it on to those who are coming along. The Kingdom of God is here with us. The river flows by the Kingdom of God.

Cleaning as Spiritual Discipline

I made a big announcement during Lent: I am exploring cleaning house as a spiritual discipline. Let's just say that this is a looooong journey that I am on. My heart is still not really with it. I am sorting through our life's belongings and trying to decide if if each piece can stay or go. Along with my cleaning and decluttering practices I am looking at how I can do more for recycling on the cheap. My soul does rejoice each and every time I can load up more things in my van and take them to Goodwill store for someone else to treasure. My heart is lighter little by little, box by box that goes away from my house. I find my task to be taking to places in the past when my children were small. Little memories that remind me why I wanted to be mom. Now as I move in to another season of child-rearing with only one child at home, and grown children living away, I am looking backward and forward. Decluttering the past is not as easy as it looks when claiming the present day as a new gift of time with the remaining son. I don't have the answers, nor do I expect that I will find them handed to me in box of dust covered memories. All I know is I need more space in my memories and house. More space to enjoy the present and preserve the past.

Lent 2009

Each year I try to add something to my Lenten Reflection. I am not really interested in taking away stuff like: chocolate, coffee, etc. I have used Lent as a time to abstain from these activities in the past.
For this Lenten season, I found myself engaged in life in several new ways: leading a Ladies Retreat for my church, going on a Mission trip with my Covenant group, restarting our Parents' brunch program, reading Henri Nouwen's lenten guide, and preparing for an Emmaus weekend. All of these activities have given me an opportunity to feed my soul and body in several ways.
The Ladies Retreat was a gift to those of us who attended because we were able to transcend our usual relationship. The Mission trip empowered me physically by our act of empowering the people of Mississippi Gulf coast to look for restoration of their souls and homes. I found out my body can give so much more than I usually allow to.
Our Parents' brunch gives me a chance to just be a parent and to get to know our church/community parents on a deeper level. Reading Henri always makes me more aware of my inner life and how important it is to care for my inner life. Preparing for Emmaus weekends always reminds me of how the church really works: through its loving and dedicated laity.
An added bonus to my Lenten season is that I got to take my children from church to their retreat: SCREAM. I always get a lot from the talks and games. Remembering how much God loves us while in the North Georgia mountains seems to be easier than when I am driving in rush hour traffice on Powder Springs Road. But I will remember with a smile how much God loves me this rainy morning as I think about my kiddoes.