I've been in Tuscaloosa now for 3 1/2 days. It seems like an eternity. So much has been crammed into this week. I love it. But I am finally ready for a nap too... which some of my new friends have declared impossible. :) I'm okay with that though.
I've met some wonderful people who now feel more like family rather than the strangers I met 3 days ago. Don't you love how God does that? There is a large group here from Raybun County, GA, and some people from other places in North Georgia (Athens, Stone Mtn area, etc.)There are also a few from scattered places around Alabama. I love that everyone meshes so amazingly well. I have seen so many people be selfless this week, not excluding teenagers who gave up a week of their summer to come help.
As for stories, I've already collected a few wonderful ones and a few that make you want to cry, some being both in one. The first day of our Sports Camp/VBS (which was a Dad thing in the ways that it came together) was Tuesday morning. We had lots of workers and extremely few children. It was hard not to be discouraged. However, it turned out to be good preparation for the rest of the week. That evening we went out to a community that rarely gets visited and played sports with some kids there. Kids from all over this place came out to play and hang out. They had a great time and so did we!! I saw all these guys really connect with each other, playing with one another's hair, playing football, and having some extremly interesting conversations. :) And at the end of the day, 22 kids got saved!! I had a mental image of the angels rejoicing in Heaven the rest of the evening. :D (We're also able to go shuttle them to and from VBS this week!!!)I love them already!
The most touching story, and heart-rending one thus far, was that at the very end of the road where these kids live, is a neighborhood that got absolutely wiped off the map. It will almost send you into shock. The destruction is awful. To think about what it did to people's lives, all they knew, it'll grip you in a cold, hard vice for hours. So driving in there yesterday, I passed a woman walking around in some debris. Her husband was sitting in the truck. Both were older, and both just looked sorta lost. Dad told me to stop. So I did. And after the initial awkwardness, this lady, (I'm gonna call her Aunt Bea) started opening up and telling me her story. They had lived in this neighborhood, in a house that is no longer there for 50 years. They moved away last year, but still had a storage building there with tons of sentimental things in it, including everything her son had done in school (her son was murdered a few years back). It was horrible. As she talked, I could imagine it all. It almost put me in tears.
Aunt Bea told me that she knew two elderly ladies that lived nearby, who died in the twister, one of which had been begged by her son to come to his house before the storm. As she told me these stories, I could only nod and feel a little of her pain in my soul. What else can you do? Saying "I understand" doesn't cut it. I don't.
She did go on to tell me though that as a group from Ohio dug through her debris, they found the most precious thing to her: a chest that had belonged to her parents, and it was still in great condition. :) God is amazing. Papers that are now in the courthouse from an old group she was in, were pulled out of a file cabinet in almost as good of a condition. It was indescribably amazing to see her smile at these things. To just stand there and get to know a little of Aunt Bea's life, it made my life more meaningful. My soul is connected to hers. She loves Jesus. And one day she'll get to see her friends again. To know she's holding onto that fact....
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