You Never Let Go, By David Crowder

David Crowder gives melody to words where the soul aches during crises. God never lets go. Never. The song spoke to me from work in the field but don't we all have personal moments or seasons when we believe the clouds will never leave, or when our hope has taken flight? Believe this, God will never let go. He has not lost sight of you and though pain seems to be a constant companion, be encouraged for hope is near, love is here and perfect love never gives up or lets go.

When clouds veils sun, disaster comes

Oh my soul, oh my soul,

waters rise, and hope takes flight

Oh my soul, oh my soul, oh my soul

Ever faithful ever true

You are known

You never let go

You Never let go

You Never let go

When clouds brought rain, and disaster came

Oh my soul, oh my soul

When waters rose, and hope had flown

Oh my soul, oh my soul,

Ever faithful, ever true

You are known, you never let go

never let go 

never let go

never let go

oh my soul over flows,

Oh what love oh what love

oh my soul fills with hope

perfect love that never lets go

you never go, you never go

Oh what love oh what love

In joy and pain, in sun and rain                              You’re the same,

Oh, you never let go

You never let go

You never let go

Meet my friend Joey, Fire Chief in East Limestone, Alabama. His station was wrecked by the storm. But he makes the best BBQ around! All the other property owners from these pictures were a thankful lot. Maybe even the cat was thankful, at least he purred for a bit until he went cat crazy. Behind me in that picture is the root bed of a hundred-year-old oak tree. Amazing wind.

The Lord is Good

His faithful love endures forever

He satisfies the thirsty

He fills the hungry with good

His love is great

His deeds are wonderful

His righteousness never fails

How gracious and merciful is my Lord 

He tramples down our foes

His glory is greater than the heavens

He is my helper

He is my shield

He remembers us

He hears and answers my prayers

He is kind

He loves us with unfailing love

His decisions are fair

The Lord,himself, watches over me

He keeps me from all evil and preserves my life

The glory of the Lord is very great

He protects me in the day of battle

Reunion

I wrote a portion of this over a month ago after returning from Joplin. Many unfortunate pets were displaced from the tornado because it sliced right through the center of town. We decided to find out how the animal shelter folks were holding up and as I stepped up to speak to someone in charge, the attendants quit working. One worker hollered across the room to the other, "HEY! HELEN! WE GOT US A CHAPLAIN!" At first, I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or perhaps we should start the car. It was a good sign, a very good sign.
Our first day, we were ushered around to the different wards of the hospital. Of course, I had to see the new kittens but the attendants asked me first to come to their "new mother ward". Three new mother cats with kittens needed some calming down so they could nurse better, the attendants asked us to pray for them.(Seriously, these tiny babies were born during the storm or just after. Hence the name of my new kitty, yes it is Seriously, true story). Which two of us did, and for the dogs who were still in shock, scared, and injured. We prayed for surgeons, anesthesiologists, attendants and volunteers. 
We took a little walk to the intake shelter where 30-40 pets were picked up nightly. The place was hopping with activity. Owners waiting to pick up found pets. Found pets waiting to be processed and housed for a while since owners were displaced, and many, many volunteers. Below is one encounter that was precious to watch.
Spoke with one man who took a nap with three dogs that day in May (he owns 8), and in his words, "I went to sleep and I woke up to a whole new world!" He had his three dogs with him but the other five were still in the rubble. He couldn't (for fear of what he would find) bring himself to search for the other five. But other survivors jumped in right away and found all five."I found a dog!" "I got one!" "Me too!" and on until all were found.
The dogs now must stay with the Humane Society until their owner has a house; he lost EVERYTHING but his dogs. I watched as the dogs and owner were reunited: wagging tails and swinging butts, one dog peed and another flopped to have her belly rubbed. The owner teared up. A sweet reunion. The family were moved to the "spa area" where they could spread out and play together. A few swimming pools to romp through, nice sand, shade; a joyous playtime. Not home, but dad is here, his babies are together and all is well.

Sweet Home Alabama

Alabama holds vivid memories for me. A state located in the alley, tornado alley. I was one of several chaplains deployed shortly after the "big one" hit. And it was ugly. I could sense the meaning behind a scripture verse "...all of creation moans..." It does indeed moan. One hundred year old trees were tossed around like toothpicks, homes were torn up off foundations. One mobile home in particular was of interest because it was wrapped around a power pole like an empty TV dinner tray. We all gasp. "Oh, my goodness! How can the wind be that fierce? Look at that, look at how its just totally wrapped around that pole. It's nearly unrecognizable."

Then we walked away,the cell phone or ipod holding the photo is slipped back into a back pack. We each retreat into our own thoughts a bit awe struck anew because the wind seemed deliberate, intentional in how it picked up this mobile home. The wind scooped up the home, left the pole standing, and brought the home around and around the pole two or three times. Huh. We were all amazed at the force, but it was impersonal because we were at least 50-100 miles away from that mobile home's location.

Several days later walking along a government subsidized housing project, we were about ready to leave. I notice an assessor and builder walking the property. I just had a notion that I needed to speak to them. From my inexperienced perspective, the housing didn't look totaled but it was. The roof had been lifted "slightly" (meaning two inches) off the rest of the house.

"Yes, it surely will need to be redone but who knows when. And you know the government."

I answered, "Yes, indeed, I do know how that works. Be careful." (as one of the men is wandering around on the roof. And promptly seeks a way down.)Quickly other chaplains were gathering which often is a signal that work is done yet for me, I felt directed to initiate conversation with the builder.

Me to the Builder: will you walk with me?
B to M: yes, yes of course.
M to B: Are you from here?
B t M: No,no...about 50 miles east.
       My family is fine. No losses of my children or grandchildren. We're all fine. No property loss.

Silence as we walk the dirt road between the structures and then the builder speaks. "I feel guilty that everything is okay for me."
"I'm not surprised you say that. Do you know why?"
He is silent for some time and we continue to walk.

Finally, we we came to the edge of the property, we turn face to face, and....
I looked into eyes filled with tears....
wearied,
questioning,
despairing,
"She was in there..."
"I knew her"
"She died, in there...."
"The wind just took her and threw that trailer around the tree, she died."

The "she" he was talking about was his relative. He had warned her not to lay down for a nap. He told her to seek shelter up the road further but she just fell asleep.

The builder felt a deeper sense of survivor guilt, he felt responsible for her death. He wasn't, and God wasn't punishing anyone. Tornadoes will come and at times warnings will go unheeded but that does not mean we cannot have gratitude for what is saved.

We prayed, hand in hand, side by side as we looked at fallen oak trees. Words may seem powerless but I like to think that I gave him more than an empty phrase. I was able to interrupt his toward spiral of unnecessary guilt. He did not fail,he was not responsible, and he can embrace the good that he does have with joy.

I learned that one never knows when the sacred moment will present itself. Looking at that picture earlier in the week, I was gazing at the initial burial place of the builder's loved one. I felt humbled. Clearly I assumed the trailer was empty and no death was attached to it. I could not have been more wrong. After his first words were spoken broken up with tears, I felt a pit in my stomach as well. I felt deep grief for him and knew we were sharing a painful, lonely place. I was honored, to "sit" here with him while he expressed his grief over what he lost, what it could have been, and what was saved. After the prayer, we retreated back into one of the houses and I left the housing unit never to see him again. I just saw his silhouette as we pulled away.

The Journey

The chronicles of one becoming a chaplain. In the circles where I function, the question arises,
      "what do you do,? I mean what does a chaplain do on a fire scene, you can't pull hose..!"

Nope. I cannot pull hose or drive an engine or climb a ladder. Once in a while I am able talk with a survivor of a fire.
I give assurances, try to give hope as we wait together for fire fighters to finish knocking down the flames. I wait. I try to answer questions about medications left in the house, a purse, or shoes.

Ministry of presence is difficult to measure. It is not the same as giving a sacrament although being with someone during one of their darkest moments is very sacred. Sitting with someone during their moments of confusion, pain, anger, and helplessness is one component of my job. I am a fire chaplain.

My contribution to the community's well being and assistance to the fire fighters is to provide my presence to the survivor's family until the Red Cross or extended family arrive. What ever practical piece of writing or fetching of medication or passing along of information I can do to make work or life easier for participants, I will do. It is such a minor thing but then the survivors demonstrate a thankfulness like they were thanking a relative when I stay behind after the fire fighters have gone. Such was the journey that day.