Helene

My littles went on their first scouts camping trip this weekend and came home filthy.

It was late when they got home and both had fallen asleep in Justin’s truck. So we did what any sane parent would do - picked them up and put them to bed, dirty, on the couch.

We firmly believe in the never wake a sleeping child principle!

This morning, both got baths and while bathing them, something struck me.

It’s just a bath.

What could possibly happen while bathing a kid?

Gratitude.

Gratitude’s what happened.

I’ve been grieving for all those affected by Hurricane Helene.

Who hasn’t?

I’m normally pretty grateful for all the things God has given us, but this morning, my gratitude was on a different playing field.

I get to give my son and daughter a bath.

How many parents have lost a child this past week and wish they were in my shoes?

I am here and my husband is in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

How many kids have lost their parents?

There is a ceiling and a roof over our heads.

How many no longer have roofs, much less a home?

There is a bathtub to bathe in. With running hot water.

How many are using 5 gallon buckets with water boiled in a pot over a fire or yard sprayers painted black to be heated in the sun to be used for a quick shower?

Our lights are on and a space heater is going.

How many will not have power for months?

There is a towel to dry off and clean clothes waiting.

How many fled their homes with only the clothes on their back?

My husband said that’s too heavy, and it is, but that’s what struck me and what keeps rolling around in my head.

So much devastation. So many towns and communities affected.

It’s too much.

It’s too big.

And I’m not even in the middle of it. I’m just a bystander watching from a distance for an area and a people that I love.

Where do you start to help? Where do you focus your attention? Which state? Which town? Which family? Which need?

I don’t know the answers.

But for today, even though I got upset with another one of my girls, I spent the day grateful for the little things we take for granted.

The little things like jumping in our car, driving down the road, going to church, grabbing some food from a fully stocked store, seeing friends, celebrating a baby’s pending arrival, watching tv, and eating at our kitchen table together.

A totally normal and uneventful day, full of minor and insignificant things, but a lot of families out there would trade everything to have a normal day again.

***fast forward to Monday morning***

I went to sleep last night frustrated that I didn’t know what God wanted me to say about Helene and felt stuck. How do you tie it all up into a neat little bow?

I woke up singing a song and realized Justin and I have been singing the same song the past 24 hours and didn’t even notice it until this morning.

And it seems to be just what I needed to hear and maybe you need to hear…

There is an answer to my question on what to do and where to start and I didn’t even realize I was singing it.

Adam Wheatley, we only sing it with your voice in mind…

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

And now…to bring it all back full circle and tie it up with that neat little bow…while searching for Adam’s version, it dawned on me that he sang this song at our wedding at Symmes Chapel just south of Asheville over looking the mountains of the Blue Ridge in North Carolina.

And that is how God uses worship. When you don’t have the words, God brings you them.

And if you haven’t heard this song, please do yourself a favor and go listen.

There are no words for the devastation and loss, but there is hope:

Fear not, I am with thee
Oh, be not dismayed
For I am thy God
And will still give thee aid
I′ll strengthen thee, help thee
And cause thee to stand
Upheld by My righteous
Omnipotent hand