Sandy

I know it is “the storm of the century.”  I’ve heard how big it was and how far-reaching its effects will be.  I’ve seen the coverage, and felt a pang at the photos of places I had been that no longer exist or have been changed forever.  I observe:

We are becoming a people adept at preparing for and stepping our way through natural disasters.  Adam called from college last night;  of course he had stocked up on groceries.  We talked about flashlights and water and having our phones charged as the wind howled like a soundtrack.

My colleagues on Facebook list the needs that are becoming known in their respective congregations with both professional calm and urgent appeal.

I read about the hundreds of cherry-picker trucks that left for New York two nights ago, and watch the rescue workers gather their tools and head out to the areas in need like resolute participants in a funeral procession.

We are rocked by this latest devastation to hit our land, and yet increasingly it seems we respond rather  than react.  With an almost supernatural calm, we begin the work of rebuilding whether we are mayors leading a submerged city, workers battling flood and fire, or faithful congregations gathering to pray.

Ironic, that our nation at its best can often be seen through the lens of our nation experiencing its worst.

It makes me proud to be an American;  humble to be connected to the world in such fundamental ways, and confident that God is with us…in the storm

Still.