Intense

Friends, what else can I say but that it is extremely intense down here. I have called home to my family and a couple of friends, and have learned that unless I want to start crying, I should be general and vague in my response to the inevitable "so how is it down there?"

For those unaware, I am in the middle of a three-week assignment on official Red Cross duty. I am currently assigned to the East Houma Gym Shelter, in the city of Houma, Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana. These citizens are suffering intensely the effects caused by hurricanes Katrina and Rita. My job functions at the shelter are sundry, and include: delivering evecuees' possessions to newly found living quarters (usually trailers), kitchen duty, child recreation, registration/information desk, shower duty, night shift (which is what I am doing this very moment), cot sanitization, ... the list just goes on and on.

Upon initial arrival, we newbies were told that everybody breaks down at one point. This is not a bad thing, I believe, but rather an indication of one's humanity; that we have hearts. We all experience 'breakdown' differently, but we all agree that our emotional limitations are breached far sooner than those physical. Some of the shelter clients are very easy to get to know, and very loveable, while others remain more aloof and private. Yet all of them communicate their hardship one way or another, digitally expressed or analogous.

Friends, I admit right now that I am not in the clearest of minds and am thinking of calling this my blog for the now, but I need to retain some of these things and get them out now. I can always edit later, so forgive my scatterbrainedness.

Pressing on, I was saying that some of the people will just out and tell you everything. They need to. It is how they heal. Others will remain quietly pensive. The horror stories I am hearing from those who have been abroad in the area, however, indicate some of the worst these folks have experienced but aren't yet ready to express. Tomorrow is my day off and I plan on travelling to New Orleans and Slidell to see first-hand, but for now I will relay to you what I have only heard (may contain hyperbole). There are dead cows and horses 20-feet up in trees. Entire houses are found dozens of yards away from their foundations. On many stretches of road, one would believe that they are driving through the city junk yard. Shrimping and casino boats are found miles inland. Grand Isle, a resort of sorts, has been reduced to a sandbar. One woman told me that the entire island had washed away, but this is not the case.

Ugh, no, I won't be able to complete this blog now.

Baton Rouge

Leaving for the Gulf Coast from 10/9-10/24.

For a while, as I waited and waited and waited for word from the ARC, I thought, "perhaps God was wondering if I was willing to sacrifice some things in my life, and he wants to see how I will react to not going after having done such." Then I worked to come to grips with that. As time passed, I was growing increasingly worried about my joblessness, and as the weeks passed with no call, I thought "if I don't go this week, I'm just going to go ahead and hunt for a job in earnest." That is what I did.

After a few interviews (and no call-backs yet) I finally got a call from the ARC. I had to think for a moment, but then decided rather quickly to go for it.

I thought that maybe I don't have to go do some great and grand thing to be charitable. I can do that for the people within my own sphere, and on a regular basis and perhaps with a greater impact, as there is reciprocating emotional investiture. I don't need to go galavanting off somewhere to be useful to my fellow man. Maybe I could be a more genuine brother, friend, son, etc. Maybe I could live up to my ideals and spread charity to those with whom I am closest. Or, yeah, sure, I could go off a thousand miles, tell everybody about it, and be thought of as a good guy.

Well, I would rather just do what I can and be square with my interpretation of God. I would rather have his praise than my fellow human peers.

My friend Katie organized just last night a small group of us to go shopping off of a list given her by the SLC downtown youth homeless shelter. We got socks, canned food, notepads, hats, gloves, treats, batteries...quite a bit of stuff for relatively cheap. We returned back to the shelter and heard one of the workers say "ooh, socks!" My friends were commenting on how it made them feel to hear her say that about something to which they had contributed.

I decided to be a better person to those around me, and then got word that I need to be ready to leave for Baton Rouge within 24-36 hours. Like Peter Griffin off "Family Guy" when he died prematurely. Death told him that even though he was early and that he'd be going back, he wouldn't be allowed to return to his body until he received an epiphany about his life. Well, I got my epiphany, I hope to take it seriously. I can do macro-service or micro-service (hopefully both), but I will not overlook those near to me by going for something larger.

I'll let you know how it goes down South.