An Apology

I feel like an apology is in order. An apology from me. I was so caught up in my own storm-drama wondering if the big gala we had spent 7 months planning was going to fall apart in the face of Helene on Thursday night, I stopped listening to what was happening around me. 

We prayed and we re-positioned our event.  We hunkered down and handled all the changes and we—well, at least, I—didn’t look up for a few days. All I could think of was the money that would be lost, the opportunities missed, and the hard work all for nothing.

And so miraculously the worst of the storm didn’t hit us. It went east. And what did come, came late. The benefit began and the party continued and we praised God for allowing it take place safely. I am sure I even felt a bit smug—We had made the right decision. We gambled and we won. I really wasn’t sure until I saw the 400+ people seated in their seats. Dry. Safe. Celebrating.

But then I started reading and listening and seeing what happened elsewhere. When the storm swung away from us it obviously had to hit somewhere else. But that didn’t fully connect in my mind until a good bit later. 

It didn’t fully sink in until my pictures were posted and our event stuff put away. 

This weekend, as a country, we celebrated homecomings and national sons day and football victories. As we should. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, I just can’t quite reconcile it in the face of what I’m reading and seeing today. 

I am struggling with the fact that my team was hugging and high-fiving Thursday night at a pumped up party while others were without power and water.  I can’t stand the fact that so much of eastern Georgia and South Carolina and North Carolina are tonight sitting in total devastation. The reports are horrific. The results heartbreaking.

All I can think is — and I was worried about our fundraiser for 400? I mean, trust me, it would have been a real hit for our non-profit to have to postpone and lose all the money spent for the set up that was already in place … the food ordered …the florals … yes, all of that. But NOTHING in comparison to what I’m hearing about today.

Helene has been horrific in the Southeast. Homes hit, trees toppled, lives lost. Power and water gone. Towns submerged. People still missing. So much shattered.

And yet for the rest of the world life went on. I’ve noticed 100 homecoming picture posts on social media. So much chatter about the football games yesterday. I am worried about a leaky porch roof and too much rainwater in my backyard. But people are truly suffering not very many miles away. And it is hard to wrestle with all of this. 

What is this world which allows some to celebrate and some to suffer? Simultaneously. How can this be?

I mean I kind of know what it feels like to be hit with devastating news and then watch others continue … to continue. It’s a weird thing watching this happen. But what choice do we have? Even if people mourn with those who mourn, they have to at some point wake up one morning and move on. And celebrate homecomings and football games. Of course they do. Like I said, it’s just weird. There’s a wrestling. 

We cannot all live on the edge of loss.  We cannot all park on the place of fear. We can empathize and we can come alongside, but we are all suffering and surviving in our own personal day to day ways. One week it is me. One week it is you. Compassion and community are vital parts to our living and loving, but perhaps can only go so deep and so wide. Can only go on for so many days. And then we must feel badly but … continue on.

We didn’t get hit as hard as they thought we would. But someone else did. Can we rejoice for our fortunate selves, yes! Can we mourn for our unfortunate neighbors, yes! We can do that too. Like I said, it’s just weird.

I got lucky. My neighbor did not. And isn't this how life seems to repeat itself over and over and over again. Sometimes it's me. Sometimes it's you.

The truth is, we live in a “both-and” kind of world. There is both in our every day. Both in our neighbor’s every day. It’s messy. Maybe just as messy as a hurricane hitting. Maybe. I can’t say for sure as the hurricane missed us this time around. But ask my neighbors in Asheville or Augusta. Maybe they can answer this question better than me. 

What I want to express to you tonight is not that it all makes sense. It doesn’t. I don’t have one single answer. I don’t have one clear way of explaining this all to anyone. I am only writing to say that if my celebrating caused anyone else to feel unseen or deserted in their own devastation, I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure this is not the first time. 

I am certain I’ve posted a picture of my intact family and inadvertently hurt someone who has a family falling apart. I’m sure I’ve celebrated the blessings of my marriage when another was walking the road of divorce. I am positive I’ve posted about a happy child when someone else had a kid not able to get out of bed. These are the things. These are the hard, hard, hard things. We don't always see. Or know. Or understand.

I am dealing with a diagnosis which will probably end in diminished life. Sometimes I read things, see things which make me feel sad. I probably won’t celebrate my 80th or 70th birthday or get to meet my great grandchildren. I probably won’t watch all of my children get married or get to see the births of all of their children. I read about my friends playing tennis or hiking and doing all the normal things. Yet, lately I am struggling to walk. It’s hard. I get sad. Some days, really sad. 

Sometimes the hurricanes in our lives are easily seen. Sometimes not so much.

Oh dear Lord, let us always have hearts to hear and see and embrace those who are hurting. Like I said, I don’t really know how to do it the right way. So I apologize if I’ve ever done it the wrong way. And I pray for eyes that would attempt to see others better. And a heart that doesn’t judge when others don’t see me. 

It can go both ways. But, for the most part, we view most things through our own personal lens. I am so guilty. And for that, I say, I am truly sorry. I know how much we need one another. I know how much good happens when we can walk a mile in the shoes of another. 

It is the VERY reason Jesus came down to earth. To make Himself fully man. To wrap Himself in our flesh. To experience what we experience. To understand and empathize and die a perfect death for us. He isn’t just a random god all up on his throne in heaven removed and resistant to us. No, He is God who loves us so deeply and so profoundly He was willing to come and live among us. To be right with us. To walk alongside us. To understand us. Even, yes, even, to weep with us. 

“And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” ~ John 1:14

“Jesus wept.” ~John 11:35

We aren’t going to do it perfectly. But I know I want to do it better.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”

~ Romans12:15

Just like Jesus did. Like He does.