My son William and I made a trip to Arlington, Texas, in late May to see our favorite baseball team (Kansas City Royals) play ball. We drove through Joplin, MO on I-44 enroute to Texas. The devastation we observed from the highway was humbling. Trees stripped and filled with all sorts of debris. Houses flattened and rubble everywhere. It was a grim picture. My sister-in-law grieves the death of three of her relatives found inside the Home Depot store.
Bill was in Hamburg, Iowa, for a family reunion in early June. (Did you know he was born there?) He observed the destruction that had already been done by the swollen Missouri River and saw people, tired and stressed, from efforts they were making to save their town and homes and businesses from the rushing waters. As he listened, he heard anger, frustration, and sadness in the voices of the residents.
It can all be so overwhelming. Dr. Mike Weinman, Area Minister for the Ozark Lakes Area of the Christian Church in Mid-America reports the following story:
Being a person in my sixth decade of life, I remember when my mother would put out her blue CWF Blessing Box--the blue hard plastic box, not the paper boxes used today at times. It was a reminder of the faith story she would tell me about the "least coin." And then we would put coins into the box; it seemed like forever before they would be collected. But year in and year out we would remember the story and place coins in the box, wondering how they might be put to use.
On Tuesday last week I was walking with Jill Michel, the senior pastor of South Joplin Christian Church. We were visiting some of her members' homes -- at least the places where they once stood. We came to the home of Avis Stiles, 91 years young. Her children, Amy Duell of Colorado and Richard Stiles of Kansas City, were at the home, looking through the splintered wood that once made up her walls and the shattered furniture they used to sit on during their visits home.
We stood in a circle, sharing stories of how "Mother" tried to make it to the bathroom during the tornado in search of a safe space. All of a sudden, however, the front door disappeared and the walls crumbled.
When she realized where she was, she was almost waist deep in the remains of a shattered home. Neighbors had to lift her out of the pile and take her to the hospital. Now her children had orders and a list of things to find as they scoured the remains of a lifetime.
On this day the request was to look for her CWF bag, a Nicaraguan cotton bag where she placed her keepsakes from years of meetings. As we were talking about the "ladies of the CWF at South Joplin," I casually looked down in the center of our circle. There, as we gathered on a pile of debris, I caught a glimpse of a familiar blue box. I wondered how many coins had found their way into it over the years.
Even in the midst of destruction we can be reminded, if but for a moment, of the many blessings we have received and the grace that has nurtured us.
May we look for blessings in the midst of trials and find grace that encourages us.
Praying with you for the people of Joplin, Hamburg and around the world.
Blessings,
Candice
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