Never again

We're experiencing rolling black-outs due to Hurricane Rita, and as common, God has pulled me to the blackboard. There are lessons I'm still learning. One of the lessons involves a question I will ask my closest Christian friends, the other is an exaggeration I will try not to use anymore.

The media has done a fine job of portraying the suffering. These last few days in Texas have been some of the hottest we experienced this summer--but it's fall all ready. The killer heat is slaying people, literally. The extremely frail, the ill, young, and old, cannot live through this heavy heat without air conditioning and some way to cool down.

Last evening at our church facilities, we readied a meal before Wednesday night classes. The food was cooked by moving it to four consecutive places, because of the black-outs. Just when the food was prepared and hot (from the fourth ovens), off went the power, so nearly 60 Christians and guests ate hot and steamy chicken spaghetti, veggies and homemade bread in the hot and steamy dark.

Good cheer prevailed, and time after time I heard one person ask another, "How are you? Do you have power?"

This is a question I plan to adopt. It's a question Christian's could ask each other throughout the year. A few Sundays ago, Beverly G. said in Sunday school, "I don't care for that phrase 'plug into God'. Christians are plugged in. The problem arises when we turn off the appliance."

So, in my adopted question, "Do you have power?" I'll really be asking myself and others are you "walking in the light?" are you "recharging through Jesus?"


Now, for the statement I will not be saying anymore. I've seen the devastation caused by hurricanes to homes and businesses. Strewn over miles and marshes are treasures renamed debris. We southern coastal women repeat a cliche about cluttered houses, homes that are structurally sound, but homes that we haven't tidied up in a few days. I've witnessed the suffering of my sisters and seen their sanctuaries spread over treetops and blacktop. I'll steer away from the overkill cliche from now on. When my house isn't as clean as I like, I'll avoid saying, "My house looks like a hurricane hit it."