A Hurricane of Devastation

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble, with the comfort that we ourselves have received from God." [2 Corinthians 1: 3-4].

On October 29, 2012, a massive "hybrid" storm of historical proportions slammed into the East Coast of the United States. Hurricane Sandy was actually a hurricane, wrapped in a Nor'Easter.

The storm hit Atlantic City directly. The famous boardwalk is gone, crumpled like so many insignificant matchsticks. Portions of the New Jersey Shore are on fire, and there is too much storm debris for rescuers and firefighters to reach the area. The New York City subways are flooded, and some underground walls of brick have collapsed. Cars are floating like toys in toxic waters. People have been swept away.

Some would say that this storm is Biblical in its destruction, and that the hurricane is a result of God's wrath.

I say, No! I fail to believe that. I refuse to believe it.

My God is my Father, and the Father of us all. He did not cause this destruction. He has not come to destroy us, but to comfort us.

I have spoken extensively in this space about how I grew up in a zone of destruction.

When I was three, there was a fire in my grandparents' home. Afterwards, my family took me to the scene to "reassure me" that there was no fire. But I knew from the acrid smell and the way that my Grandmother's easy chair had been been burned beyond recognition- - that there certainly WAS a fire.

I almost drowned when I was about four. As I sank, I remember thinking, this must be what it is to drown. My mother pulled me out, even as I began to swallow water. The family never spoke of this again.

When I was six, I came home and my mother had given the family dog away. Even the family dog was not inevitable.

When I was ten, my grandfather died. He was the only one who allowed me to crawl into his lap and snuggle deeply into his arms for comfort. No one else hugged me or told me that they loved me.

At that time, I was dealing with an uncertain supply of meals at home. When I could not eat what was served, I was given nothing else. I learned to plan on going hungry.

If I was cold and asked for a sweater, I was told to "Stop acting up." Being cold became "normal" to me.

There was alcohol abuse in my home, verbal abuse, physical abuse. I learned that I was not safe anywhere in the house, not even in my own bed at night.

When I was in middle school, a member of my extended family took her own life. Once this story was told, it was never spoken of again. Suddenly all pictures of her disappeared. It was as if she had never existed.

About that time, my family abruptly stopped taking me to church. I wondered if they could take even my faith away?

I learned that the things we all take for granted---  security in our own homes, comfort and kindness from our loved ones, restful sleep, food, a home secure from disaster, the warmth of a sweater, the life of a treasured relative, even our faith -- are not inevitable. I learned that I live in a precarious world.

A week before Hurricane Sandy, what was in the news? A report that Starbucks customers are livid that the shops are running out of pumpkin latte's. Vitriolic and increasingly personal campaign ads for the upcoming election. Talk of who "won" the Presidential debates. And our ever increasing fascination with "reality TV" shows.

I have always said that "Reality TV" is a manufactured reality. What I went through as a child pales in comparison to what is happening in our world now. . . . What can be more real than Hurricane Sandy? Or the brutal civil war in Syria? Or the continuing aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti? Or the devastating effects of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan?  Or the violent situation in Sudan? Or the continuing struggles of the people of Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina? Or the horror of the attacks on Sept. 11?

The political ads on TV have gone deathly silent. Some television shows cannot be aired because TV studios are inoperable. Wall Street was closed for 2 days. Subways in NYC are still under water.

And so I ask you, where is our infrastructure now? Who, or what, can we cling to now?

A dear friend who lost his wife to cancer a few years ago, told me after her passing that he felt like he had gone through a kiln of fire. He said, "I realize that all we really have is each other!"

My friend knows, and I know, that all we have is our God, and the Love that comes from Him. Do YOU know this now? How much do you dare to love and to serve? How much do you dare to forsake all else, that used to seem so important?

I pray that everyone stays safe in the aftermath of this storm. Especially, I pray that we learn to love each other, now more than ever.

(c) Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.