Florence And Our Disaster Response
Millions continue in the midst of Hurricane Florence and her deadly onslaught unleashed on the Eastern Coast. And, while the winds are dying down (slowly), the flood waters are rising. The rain continues to fall in record rates. The threat of loss of life and property remains elevated. As disciples, how is God calling you to respond? There are countless ways, but I have always found the disaster response of the NALC to be a wonderful place to start. You can learn more here.
Like you, I've prayed, sought news regarding the safety of loved ones and friends, and kept my eyes on the reports from the storm. And in this time I've been drawn to this song. It has been my prayer and it has been my song of worship. Washed in the Water by NEEDTOBREATHE is a song I've sung as a prelude to baptisms. It is a song we have song connected to the power of God in the midst of the storms of life. And it is a song that declares the mighty anchor we have in Jesus even when the floods start rising.
In light of Hurricane Florence and her deadly visit to our shores, it drew my mind back to a time I saw the power of mother nature from 600 miles away. I wrote about my experience with Hurricane Nate (yeah, I didn't remember the name of it either) in my upcoming book on sacramental discipleship. Obviously, the devastation of Nate pails in comparison to Florence. Even still, I was amazed at what wind and rain can do. I invite you to read another excerpt from my book.
Will It Hold?: An Excerpt from Sacramental Disciples
I was on the Florida Gulf Coast as Hurricane Nate (The most forgettable hurricane of the 2017 hurricane season) made impact in New Orleans—almost 600 miles away. As I tracked the level 1 hurricane, I saw its effects as the storm surge raised the water right out my door by 2 feet. This alone was fascinating as the beach was decimated. More fun, however, were the 6-foot waves. On the Gulf, the waves rarely get that big. Reliving my childhood was more fun than I care to admit. I wasn’t the only one enjoying the beach that day. Plenty of sunbathers were out, including one who thought it a good idea to bring his boat along for the day and anchor it off the shore. On any other day, it may have turned out just fine. But, with the storm surge and the waves, a relaxing day at the beach was a stress-filled labor of futility for the boater and his friends. You see, his anchor wasn’t big enough. It didn’t hold in the wind and the waves. Twice he almost beached the boat. Even with two anchors, the boat wasn’t close to holding in place.
That’s the rub with all of this. All of our faithfulness, all of our right thinking and right acting, our obedience, our right decisions, right living, and right following don’t matter if we are hitched to the wrong anchor. In the end, nothing we do saves or redeems us. The world offers lots of anchor substitutes: bank accounts, social status, education, beauty, fame, therapy, aid assistance programs—you name it. None of them are strong enough or big enough to withstand the raging storms of life. Jesus is our anchor. He will always hold—no matter the waves. No matter the storms, Jesus holds.
The exchange between Jesus and Peter solidifies Jesus’ role as anchor. “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” The answers of others point to the various anchors people were waiting for, and expecting, to help them through life. Religion. Heros. Erudites. They are all lightweight anchors. Sure, they are adequate on calm days. But it becomes clear how insufficient they are under even a little strain. Remember, Hurricane Nate was a category 1, and it was almost 600 miles away.
Jesus listens to the disciples, but then He goes from general to specific. “But what about you? Who do you say that I am?” The answer is simple and profound. “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” You, Jesus, will hold me even as the weight of the world is pushing me down.
Will you join with me in prayer?
Lord Jesus, we declare your praise that you are more than strong enough. You, our anchor, will always hold no matter how rough the seas get. No matter how high the flood rises. No matter how devasting the loss--even in the wake of death--you are our anchor. Lord Jesus, we pray for those who are still in harm's way. We pray for those who have lost everything. We pray for those who are in the midst of making impossible decisions. In the midst of this nightmare, we pray that by your Holy Spirit you may reveal a glimmer of your presence so that all might see your hand and remember your presence. We also pray for the relief effort. For those who are already tirelessly working to restore vital services. For those who are delivering aid, supplies, and hope. We pray for those who live far away, that together we might be united to serve our fellow brothers and sisters in sacrificial ways. Lord Jesus, let us not grow weary in our work to restore those communities who have been hit most hard by Florence. In the days, weeks, and months ahead, draw these communities to the forefront of our minds so that we might participate in your work of restoration. Jesus, you are our anchor. Even as the rain falls and the floods start rising--make us a people after your own heart--who come into the pain and devastation in order to build up. And, above all, reveal your glory in all that we say and do, for the sake of your kingdom. In the name of Jesus. Amen.