Tip of My Iceberg

We were fortunate. We dodged a big bullet.

The Bahamas didn’t. The Carolina coast is now in the crosshairs of the weapon called Dorian.

Waiting for Dorian to make landfall in Florida was an act of agonizing impatience on my part. Come do your thing and be done with it.

Having the storm stall out over the Bahamas wasn’t what I’d anticipated. Pictures of the devastation, flooding everywhere, a destroyed shantytown of immigrants were heartbreaking.

I just wanted it done. I didn’t want to hear any more dire predictions.

This wasn’t about what might be–the destruction was real for so many people. Not a possibility, but a sentence passed down by a hurricane. Dorian left an impact that will be felt for a lifetime for some–those who lost loved ones. Livelihoods can be rediscovered. Homes can be rebuilt. Essentials can be replaced.

Lives lost cannot be recovered.

My grands played in the puddles in the aftermath of the bits and pieces of Dorian we did get. Splashing in muddy water. Squishing in soggy grass. The experience was fun; it’s what you do with puddles.

They were oblivious to what others had lost. What others had to deal with because of a storm. They were bothered only with containment–staying inside longer than they wanted, not being able to go outside to play in the rain. They whined, not from loss but from unmet expectations. From being denied what they wanted to do.

Having pleasure denied and hope lost are two very different things.

We expect the media to make a big deal out of forces of nature that strike around the world. Their job is to inform, albeit dramatically so they can gain viewers. I’m not surprised by the coverage of Dorian on so many channels.

What happens once the storm has passed into oblivion? When there’s nothing to report but the aftermath?

Will there be the passion to communicate what needs to be done after the storm? Will there be compassionate hearts reaching out to those in need after the media hoopla is over?

There will be those who reach out to the less fortunate, to the hurting, the grieving. Culturally we often gather around those suffering to provide supplies, physical help, a kind word for those who’ve lost so much. It happened with Hurricane Katrina, with terrorist attacks in Orlando, San Bernardino, Las Vegas, and other places, with earthquakes that happened in Haiti and other countries. There’s something in us that needs to reach out and help when we see a need.

It’s the heart of God, who made us each in His image, to be gracious and courageous when others need us. To be willing to give of ourselves when the burden is too much for others to bear. To love sacrificially when sadness and loss overwhelm hearts.

We have been made purposefully, to be reflections of a gracious and powerful God. We’re not here to please ourselves only, to get what we can at the expense of others, to manipulate our way to get what we desire.

We’ve been made for greater things.

Puddles will never satisfy anyone.