"Here I Am, Lord"
As a part of my journaling task for this mission, I am asking my fellow team members to allow me to get to know them a little better. I have sent them each an email asking that they let me know their name, age, occupation, home church, task(s) assigned on this mission, and why they are going. I will be posting their answers over the next few days. In the meantime, I was asked by Glenn Shafer of Imprint News to share with him my own background as to why I am going on this mission. I laughed when he said "in a sentence or two." I cannot do that! I said. So send me whatever you write, he said. Here is what I sent him:
"For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required." (from Luke 12:48)
When Hurricane Katrina roared through the Gulf region in August 2005, I was returning from dropping my youngest child off at college in Pennsylvania, and was contemplating my long-term plan of taking a hiatus from my law practice to do mission work. While I had thought that something like Peace Corps was what I’d want to do, I had had to step back and rethink things a little. Life does that to you sometimes–you sometimes have to modify your plans.
With an 84-year-old mother in Florida who had lost her condo building’s roof from three of the 2004 hurricanes, I had been monitoring the hurricane tracking closely ever since. I realized that a two-year Peace Corps commitment would take me out of the country and would make it very difficult for me to help my mother in a time of crisis. And my son reminded me that he *would* like a home to come to during college breaks. Then, I had to also consider that my practice had become quite busy and fulfilling, and that I had commitments to my clients. So as I was driving back from Pennsylvania on August 29, listening to the news about Katrina, the seeds of a different path were being planted.
With Katrina, I at first had this morbid curiosity about the size of it. Then I realized that it was going to hit an area where people–a lot of people– lived. And that some of those people were my friends, relatives, friends of relatives, or relatives of friends.
My childhood best friend, Barbara, lives in a very vulnerable area of Mandeville, LA. I realized soon after Katrina hit the area that although my relatives in Alabama and Florida were safe, I could not get in touch with Barbara, and I began to monitor the news coverage very closely. By the following Sunday, September 4, I was in church, praying about what to do, and asking my senior pastor, Mel Kawakami, about going to the area on a mission.
While waiting for an answer, I set about seeing what I could realistically do. Right after church, I heard on the radio about the need for housing for Katrina survivors. As soon as I got home, I registered online with www.katrinahousing.org, and within 24 hours, I received a phone call that three ladies needed a place to stay. And on September 6, I welcomed Melanie, Zelma, and Miss Alice into my home for what would become a 3 to 11-week stay (respectively.)
While living with these three lively ladies (self-named, "The Golden Girls") from New Orleans, I learned about their experiences of living through the storm, the ensuing floods, their rescue, and their adventures in trying to survive and move on. (Some of these experiences are written about in my other blog, www.chezdubois.blogspot.com.) It soon became apparent that recovery and rebuilding efforts are going to take years, not just months. And during this time, I had also finally located my friend Barbara, who had stayed for the first several post-storm weeks in North Carolina. Barbara, who, with her husband, owned two properties, had lost one when it completely came off of its foundation during the flooding, and lost the first floor of her other home where she had lived with her husband and two children. By October, Barbara was back in Mandeville, living on the second floor of her home while trying to make the first floor liveable again.
"Here I am Lord..."
Just as my New Orleans guests were preparing to leave for their new housing in October and I was wondering what I could do next, we learned that our church would be sponsoring a rebuilding mission trip to Mississippi. My friend from choir, Cassandra, came to rehearsal one night with sign-up forms and I grabbed one immediately. This mission would have special meaning, I learned, because we would be working virtually in some of Cassandra’s childhood surroundings.
Learning about this mission brought me much joy. Finally, I could go! And I could even put to use some of the various skills I’ve picked up over the years: painting; taping and mudding drywall; putting together bookshelves and furniture (hey, I own two power drills, thank you); and, even better, just listening to people who have just gone through too much. But what makes this really special is being able to go with close friends; not only Cassandra and Rev. Mel, but four other members of our choir, who, like me, no doubt were moved by Cassandra’s drive and determination, and gratitude that we would travel to a place that held so much meaning to her.
More about Cassandra, here: Cassandra and I have discovered over the years of being in choir together that we have several things in common: we know what it is like for people (especially choir directors) to make fun of our accents (being both from south of the Mason-Dixon); we know what a "tent revival" is; we know how good fried catfish tastes; we’ve both worked hard to attain and use our doctoral training; we both play the piano and other instruments (she is a much better pianist); and our vocal ranges are nearly identical. Although she sings first alto and I sing second soprano in choir, we often sit together and join in on the same middle part when it calls for three-part female harmony.
Well as I thought I knew her, I was surprised at the intensity of her feelings about and her commitment to this mission. When she walked, almost frantically, into the choir room that night in October, the combination of excitement, joy, trepidation, and concern was almost overwhelming. She had just heard from Mel that he was hoping to put together a team of 40 persons in short order, and Cassandra was taking this as her own marching orders. Forty people!! (We later learned that twenty is actually about what was expected and needed for a "perfect sized group".) It is largely testament to Cassandra’s efforts that night that about one-fourth of our eventual mission group consists of fellow SUMC choir members.
Last night, at choir practice, we learned that we are singing on Sunday the piece by Dan Schutte, S. J., "Here I am, Lord". This is a great song of calling and commissioning, and those of us in the choir who are going to Mississippi this coming week assumed that this song was being chosen for us. But no, our choir director tells us this is in deference to this Sunday’s set lectionary. But as we sang, we all simultaneously came to the same conclusion... this is our song. It goes, in part, like this:
"I the Lord of sea and sky, I have heard my people cry...
Who will bear my light to them, Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord, Is it I Lord?
I have heard You calling in the night
I will go, Lord, If You lead me
I will hold Your people in my heart."
So here I am, five days from our departure for Biloxi, and I find myself truly excited, and moved, to be joining a very talented, committed, inspirational, and hard-working group. And I will hold God’s people, including our team members as well as the people of Mississippi, in my heart.
"For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required." (from Luke 12:48)
When Hurricane Katrina roared through the Gulf region in August 2005, I was returning from dropping my youngest child off at college in Pennsylvania, and was contemplating my long-term plan of taking a hiatus from my law practice to do mission work. While I had thought that something like Peace Corps was what I’d want to do, I had had to step back and rethink things a little. Life does that to you sometimes–you sometimes have to modify your plans.
With an 84-year-old mother in Florida who had lost her condo building’s roof from three of the 2004 hurricanes, I had been monitoring the hurricane tracking closely ever since. I realized that a two-year Peace Corps commitment would take me out of the country and would make it very difficult for me to help my mother in a time of crisis. And my son reminded me that he *would* like a home to come to during college breaks. Then, I had to also consider that my practice had become quite busy and fulfilling, and that I had commitments to my clients. So as I was driving back from Pennsylvania on August 29, listening to the news about Katrina, the seeds of a different path were being planted.
With Katrina, I at first had this morbid curiosity about the size of it. Then I realized that it was going to hit an area where people–a lot of people– lived. And that some of those people were my friends, relatives, friends of relatives, or relatives of friends.
My childhood best friend, Barbara, lives in a very vulnerable area of Mandeville, LA. I realized soon after Katrina hit the area that although my relatives in Alabama and Florida were safe, I could not get in touch with Barbara, and I began to monitor the news coverage very closely. By the following Sunday, September 4, I was in church, praying about what to do, and asking my senior pastor, Mel Kawakami, about going to the area on a mission.
While waiting for an answer, I set about seeing what I could realistically do. Right after church, I heard on the radio about the need for housing for Katrina survivors. As soon as I got home, I registered online with www.katrinahousing.org, and within 24 hours, I received a phone call that three ladies needed a place to stay. And on September 6, I welcomed Melanie, Zelma, and Miss Alice into my home for what would become a 3 to 11-week stay (respectively.)
While living with these three lively ladies (self-named, "The Golden Girls") from New Orleans, I learned about their experiences of living through the storm, the ensuing floods, their rescue, and their adventures in trying to survive and move on. (Some of these experiences are written about in my other blog, www.chezdubois.blogspot.com.) It soon became apparent that recovery and rebuilding efforts are going to take years, not just months. And during this time, I had also finally located my friend Barbara, who had stayed for the first several post-storm weeks in North Carolina. Barbara, who, with her husband, owned two properties, had lost one when it completely came off of its foundation during the flooding, and lost the first floor of her other home where she had lived with her husband and two children. By October, Barbara was back in Mandeville, living on the second floor of her home while trying to make the first floor liveable again.
"Here I am Lord..."
Just as my New Orleans guests were preparing to leave for their new housing in October and I was wondering what I could do next, we learned that our church would be sponsoring a rebuilding mission trip to Mississippi. My friend from choir, Cassandra, came to rehearsal one night with sign-up forms and I grabbed one immediately. This mission would have special meaning, I learned, because we would be working virtually in some of Cassandra’s childhood surroundings.
Learning about this mission brought me much joy. Finally, I could go! And I could even put to use some of the various skills I’ve picked up over the years: painting; taping and mudding drywall; putting together bookshelves and furniture (hey, I own two power drills, thank you); and, even better, just listening to people who have just gone through too much. But what makes this really special is being able to go with close friends; not only Cassandra and Rev. Mel, but four other members of our choir, who, like me, no doubt were moved by Cassandra’s drive and determination, and gratitude that we would travel to a place that held so much meaning to her.
More about Cassandra, here: Cassandra and I have discovered over the years of being in choir together that we have several things in common: we know what it is like for people (especially choir directors) to make fun of our accents (being both from south of the Mason-Dixon); we know what a "tent revival" is; we know how good fried catfish tastes; we’ve both worked hard to attain and use our doctoral training; we both play the piano and other instruments (she is a much better pianist); and our vocal ranges are nearly identical. Although she sings first alto and I sing second soprano in choir, we often sit together and join in on the same middle part when it calls for three-part female harmony.
Well as I thought I knew her, I was surprised at the intensity of her feelings about and her commitment to this mission. When she walked, almost frantically, into the choir room that night in October, the combination of excitement, joy, trepidation, and concern was almost overwhelming. She had just heard from Mel that he was hoping to put together a team of 40 persons in short order, and Cassandra was taking this as her own marching orders. Forty people!! (We later learned that twenty is actually about what was expected and needed for a "perfect sized group".) It is largely testament to Cassandra’s efforts that night that about one-fourth of our eventual mission group consists of fellow SUMC choir members.
Last night, at choir practice, we learned that we are singing on Sunday the piece by Dan Schutte, S. J., "Here I am, Lord". This is a great song of calling and commissioning, and those of us in the choir who are going to Mississippi this coming week assumed that this song was being chosen for us. But no, our choir director tells us this is in deference to this Sunday’s set lectionary. But as we sang, we all simultaneously came to the same conclusion... this is our song. It goes, in part, like this:
"I the Lord of sea and sky, I have heard my people cry...
Who will bear my light to them, Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord, Is it I Lord?
I have heard You calling in the night
I will go, Lord, If You lead me
I will hold Your people in my heart."
So here I am, five days from our departure for Biloxi, and I find myself truly excited, and moved, to be joining a very talented, committed, inspirational, and hard-working group. And I will hold God’s people, including our team members as well as the people of Mississippi, in my heart.
posted by Elizabeth Hokama at 5:36 PM
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