JESUS – In the Mud, too

Katie LeBlanc is a Youth Minister at Holy Family parish in Amesbury, MA.

The words are not in me - how to explain or reflect on the most horrific visual of my life? Seeing the devastation made me feel like I was walking on corpses and beyond words to explain the feeling of helplessness.

Going down to New Orleans to “help” my friends' church was a good feeling as I was boarding the plane. As soon I touched down, the feelings began to change. When is the last time you flew into an airport to see no planes in any of the gates? It was a ghost town at the airport, something that would be a theme in my quick three-day trip.

The purpose of this trip was to meet a dozen families that needed temporary financial help. My friend Fr. John set up the appointments but I had preconceived ideas already. Watching many New Orleanians, on television, take from the system to buy big screen TV's and the like. This image was deep in my subconscious as I began to meet those we were “helping.”

To walk in another's shoes is all I kept thinking. This could be me or anyone I know. The people we met with were uncomfortable with the thought of others helping them, although many lost everything. A few put it simply: “We are normally the givers not the receivers.”

Those we met were in charge of various volunteer ministries within the local church of New Orleans. One man helped the homeless for the last few years, bringing meals to those who have nothing. Another was in charge of the volunteers – the list of their talents was overwhelming. For now, they needed to find food, clothing and shelter for themselves and their families. Many had been staying with friends and relatives for the last few months and all were out of work.

We saw pictures of their ripped-apart homes filled with mud. Memories of their lives were soaking all over the front yard. In one picture, I asked if they were mistaken because I didn't see anything. The wife looked at me and said, “We can't find our house, it's gone. We found a coffee mug and a few trinkets.”

As we concluded with each family, we prayed with them. Many times the emotion was too much and tears flowed from the pain that they were carrying. Each had a solid foundation from which they operated. Many shared that they would re-build and work through this experience because God was in their pain and was guiding them through.

Among the most powerful words I heard were those of Helen. She showed me a picture of a life-size Jesus statue in her ruined back yard. She said, “See Jesus, He is in the mud with us. We know He feels our pain because He is right with us.” Her house was filled with mud from the inside and covered with mold as well. This is not about cleaning up, re-building by bulldozing. It's about starting over in a new place.

Those words like “cleaning up," “re-building,” or “starting over” were in every person's heart. For some it was obvious what they had to do. I take this experience and know that we will try to have local families help by adopting a particular family and being in touch with their progress. That will be a good feeling to help someone in need, because they are, for sure!

I am left with another haunting feeling. This is also about looking in to my own life to look at what needs cleaning-up, re-building and what needs starting over. My experience is life-changing. It's about being ministered to; amidst the brokenness, they gave me more than I will ever give them.

My prayer is that there will be an out pouring of support for our new friends, but let it not go without being unchanged by this experience. Is it about cleaning up, re-building or starting over? Maybe we don't know, and that's ok. We just need to know that Jesus walks in the mud of our lives as well.



In the Vineyard
November 17, 2005
Volume 4, Issue 16
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