Like most of you, my first encounter with a tornado was “The Wizard of Oz,”
and I would have been satisfied with that. But in 1979 I saw my first real
tornado damage riding around Cheyenne during Frontier Days. We were almost in a
trance like state driving around neighborhoods, patrolled by the National Guard,
and amazed how you could see the path the tornado had taken, some homes still
intact, some leveled, and some just an empty block. And that would have been
enough too. Driving across Kansas a few years ago we came upon the remnants of
a town totally obliterated by a tornado. One of those small towns that appear
out of nowhere across the prairies, it was down to what was left of a
convenience store, and part of a gas station. It was hot so we stopped and went
in, and the sound of portable generators was everywhere. All food was in boxes,
some damaged, some like new. They were rebuilding the small hospital, and it
seemed electricity was at a premium. An older crowd, as for many this was not
their first tornado, they could only hope it would be the last. But you could
feel the energy and the hope among those there, and you almost wanted to stop
and ask “where do I start?” But ride on knowing sometimes prayer is all God
wants you to do. And I still think of them today and pray, and two years ago we
were able to see how much the town had recovered-many new buildings, a new
convenience store, and life was going on-as we were riding through. Neighbors
helping neighbors, there for each other...
Oklahoma City has always been the center of the US of A to me. Almost 1500
miles from home, it means another 1500 to the East Coast. It has meant three
stops during Torches Across America to visit the bombing scene at the Murrah
Building. It was my less than 28 hour stop on my 70 hour ride across America.
It is where Braums and Steak and Shakes begin to appear at every freeway exit,
and the brown of the Texas panhandle turns to green rolling hills. A modern big
city, with a small town attitude, it is driving through Bricktown, catching up
with old Route 66, and leaving to the east and riding past Pop’s. It is also
220 miles to Joplin, where Andrew and I assisted with clean up and recovery
ministry two Mays ago. It is a small town named Moore, where we spent the night
in 2011, where it was over 100 degrees after 10 at night. We were right along
I-35, and had met up with our good friend Joe, and eaten some of the best BBQ
this side of the South. It is where we would take off from the next morning on
a ride of over 500 miles, covering a distance of only 300 as the crow flies. It
is where the sirens warned yesterday of a tornado with Moore in its path. A
sound that most Okies are used to, this is Tornado Alley, but yet is
terrifying. We sat huddled in a basement in Red Wing, Minnesota a few years
back while the sirens went off for 90 minutes. Time stands still while you are
waiting, and our wait produced nothing but a new respect for those who live in
these areas, as the tornado passed by. We met those who had been in these
storms, some who had lost things, and some who rebuilt-that was their
tradition. The land was theirs, where else would they go? California? Don’t
you have earthquakes every day? No this is home, and this is where they stayed,
and will stay-again if necessary. For be it ever so humble, there is no place
like home.
So when Joe called Theresa yesterday and advised us of the damage, he lives
in Moore, and family lives around there, we knew the area, and Joe. And please
keep them all in prayer, the devastation can only be imagined. What we saw in
Joplin two years ago cannot be told on TV. When you first come upon the damage,
you cannot believe it. But there is also a certain sound, one of silence, as no
life or business is going on. Neighborhoods, shopping centers, and freeways
that produce all the background noise we cannot hear is gone. You see people in
shock, just moving around. Where do you start? How can you help? And then
driving through the neighborhoods, you lose all perspective. No landmarks, no
trees, and debris everywhere. Cars on top of cars, and the smell-it smells of
death, an odor I cannot describe. And I hope you never do. But we found a
resilience in Joplin, like we had seen in Kansas, and like I know we will see,
and already see in Moore. People doing what needs to be done-teamwork, family
work, town work. Everyone leveled to a common denominator of need, and all the
things that were important that morning don’t matter any more. Home work, after
school activities, Little League, graduation, and jobs are all put on
hold-survival now is the first thing, and for most the only thing. So what can
we do? What should we do?
If you aren’t already, pray. Thank God for His mercies, I am always amazed
at how few deaths there are among the devastation. Get out your wallet, and
send money to the Red Cross, Operation Blessing, who we worked with in
Joplin,and contacts me every time a tragedy occurs-I wish I could respond this
time, but physically can’t. But if you can, contact them, along with
Samaritan’s Purse, and go and volunteer. Get out and get ‘er done. I cannot
express the joy of helping we had, or to see the lives of those we touched. Go
and listen to their stories, and ask what you can do. Ask to pray for them,
after listening to one man’s story and the tour of what was left of his home,
when I asked if I could pray for him, he called all his family together, “this
man from California came out here to pray for us.” Be it ever so
humble...
But don’t do nothing. As Joplin becomes Tuscaloosa, becomes Hurricane
Sandy, becomes Texas, becomes Moore, get out and help. The winds of Oklahoma
may not be as romantic as Hawaii, but the memories will be sweeter. Stop if you
are going by, spend the day or night, stop by a church and ask to help. We
never saw a need for less volunteers, and I still get info on Joplin today, two
years later. And perhaps the greatest thank you note was from Joplin, hand
signed, reminding us and thanking us for being there, and the difference we had
made. I’ll put it against any postcard you have anytime. The ministry of just
being there, how many times do you ask for Jesus to be there, and He always is,
can we not follow His example? Maybe JFK said I best in his famous speech, “Ask
not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your
country.” We are that country, we are that people, and we are that church. We
ask God what he can do for us,today ask what we can do for Him? Moore,
Oklahoma, just a town on the map. But hometown to many. Jesus Christ Lord of
all. Don’t wait for a storm to invite Him to your hometown, and don’t wait for
that special invite-I just extended it to you-in the name of Jesus. The harvest
is already full, will you be a worker?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com
pictures are of Joplin, May 2011