Milestones and Myopia

Lois Kadel, coordinator for much of our synod’s volunteer work along the Gulf, sends this reflection on the anniversaries of Sept. 11, 2001 and Hurricane Katrinia:

I awoke this morning to another milestone morning in America. The cable news outlets and the national media I watch as I channel hop each morning are all focused on yet another anniversary date of a national tragedy. It has been five years since the terror attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the failed attempt to crash a plane into the White House. Thousands of everyday citizens, going about their everyday work, lost their lives. I listened quietly as widows, orphans, parents of lost children, siblings, and fiancées read the names of those who died. The duty of reading these names is divided among pairs of survivors – the tandems take turns respectfully and solemnly reading the first, middle, and last name of each person – until they get to their beloved’s name. And then the emotions flood. “My beloved husband, Hector Alvarez. We love you and miss you… you are forever in our hearts….Your three grandchildren miss you the most…”

I immediately grasped the remote. I can’t watch this! The raw emotions are erupting again. I shove them back down. I can’t do this today, I have things to do! It’s funny; just a few weeks ago I was experiencing the same emotions as I watched the footage of Hurricane Katrina once more as the one year anniversary of that monster storm approached on the calendar. I remembered where I was last year, what was going on in my life, and as I watched the aftermath replayed on documentaries and specials about Katrina, I once again shoved those emotions back down. I choose to have a sort of mental myopia about such things, a short-sightedness if you will, about these events that so tuck at the heartstrings. It is almost too much for the human heart to comprehend. My mental myopia can see the tragedy, sit and watch it unfold on the television. But the long term aftermath of such events, well, I allow them to blur into a fuzzy un-reality. If I don’t see it, it’s not happening - until I am reminded once again by a Mrs. Alvarez. My refractive defect of the heart blurs the vision of the Katrina survivors living in a FEMA trailer at the one year anniversary milestone.

I don’t think I’m alone in this. Our vision of the world and of the events that color our world view needs to be 20/20. Our mental myopia needs correction. We will pause this morning and remember those who died, perhaps attend a memorial service today. We may send a check to a relief agency to continue to help on the coast. But our lives go on. I have been working periodically, along with hundreds of other volunteers, to organize and train teams to go to the Gulf Coast to help in the re-building effort. Initially, the response was amazing and hundreds of people spent a week or two in Mississippi or Louisiana helping those we had earlier watched on the TV. Supplies were collected and sent at an amazing pace. Trucks were sent on a monthly basis – filled to capacity with needed supplies. But at the one year milestone, both of these efforts have slowed down. We are returning to life as usual. The blurred vision of reality deferred has set in. I like to see a resurgence of energy concentrated on helping those who have lost so much. We have people in our community who still are reeling from the tragic events of September 11, 2001 and we still have four states in our nation who have been incapacitated by the events of August 29, 2005. We need to see our way to serve these people, to model for them the love of God and the servant attitude of Christ. It’s time to move from milestone to model. “For they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love, yes they’ll know we are Christians by our love!”