Fall

The finer things of fall, perfect climbing weather.

Katrina - Four Years Later

Fall is in the air again and with the arrival of September comes the annual anniversary of the most important time in my life, the three months I spent on the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina struck on August 29th, 2005. I'm reminded of it constantly. Weather Channel shows, documentaries, and stories in print constantly retell those fateful hours. I usually just watch and smile to myself, knowing that those around me could never understand the impact that storm had on my life if I were to mention it. Because for me, everything reminds me of Katrina. There are too many stories to share the meaning of so many simple memories, but any late fall evening, high school football game, cross, smell of gasoline or song in my "Katrina" play list brings me back to southern Mississippi or eastern Louisiana.

Katrina woke me up. For all intents and purposes I was born on September 11th, 2005, the day I arrived in Mississippi. The days that followed challenged me and broadened my life in ways I never imagined possible as I grew to understand suffering, service, and the true joy of following Christ in the face of adversity. There is not a day that goes by that i don't think of someone I worked with or for on the gulf coast; where they are now, how they're doing, and how they themselves have recovered. I have lost track of most, and like all periods of life this is probably inevitable and perhaps for the best. But my heart will forever find it roots in the downed trees of Mississippi and the flooded remains of New Orleans.

I have traveled back to the area several times over these past four years. Its good to see the progress and travel the roads again, but like all experiences, its never the same. Everyone has periods of life that are simply magical, and while I hate that this period for me came at the cost of much suffering, it was a once in a lifetime mix of trial, triumph, and growth in the presence of the most influential people I have ever met. I'll never be able to recapture that, but the effects of that period will reverberate through me forever.

I posted the above pictures intentionally. They are not pictures of destruction, but of endurance. That cross stood beside the remains of towering buildings brought to their knees by a thirty foot storm surge, and yet remained unscathed. That family stood beside the remains of their flooded home, having lost everything, but filled with joy. Hope in the cross, and you will never be shaken.

If you're reading this and you happen to be one of those special people who I encountered on the gulf who radically altered the course of my existence for the better, I thank you. I'll be thinking about you...

RIP Charleston 9

Today is the two year aniversary of the Sofa Superstore fire in Charleston, SC. The fire killed nine firemen, the largest single incident loss of life since 9/11. RIP brothers. Here is the link to the report about the fire. http://firehouse.com/firereport_051508.pdf

Writer

The other day over excessively priced beer and bowl of French Onion Soup, I asked a friend of mine what his brother was up to. He replied that his brother was writing.

I'm jealous. I feel as I've heard the phrase, "Oh, he's taking some time off to write" several times in my life, and I've always wondered what that would look like for me.

I want to take some time off, move to a one room bungalow on the coast of a Spanish Island, you know, the ones with only a hanging sheet for a door. I want to emerge each sunny morning wearing sandals and a loose shirt buttoned up only half way...

And write.

Post-Galveston

Thanks for the support as I traveled to Galveston last weekend in the wake of Hurricane Ike. It was a tough trip, primarily because I came down with the worst stomach virus of my life the first night there that ended me up in the hospital shortly after I landed home in Philly. That said, Galveston was heavily damaged, at least 60% of the city was flooded, maybe more, with many buildings right on the coast suffering structural damage or collapse. It appears, however, that a great deal of work is underway, most of the gutting has been completed and folks appear ready to rebuild. Galveston will be back. Thanks again for your support.

Hurricane Ike Texas Trip

Tomorrow I am headed to Galveston Texas to do a post Hurricane Ike disaster assessment for the Presbyterian Church in America. Hopefully this trip will yield many ministry possibilities and pave the way for volunteer response teams from across the country to come and work. Please keep my team and our productivity in your prayers.

How Soccer Explains the World

I stole the title of this post from a book I'm reading by Franklin Foer. A New York Times' best seller, Foer contrasts the worldwide love of Soccer with modern theories of globalization. While a fascinating book, it focused mainly on the primary professional football clubs and it failed to discuss the idea encompassed by its title that first drew me to it: Soccer is the only activity (besides maybe warfare) that is truly embraced by just about every culture and every demographic within culture around the world.

I took the Photo above on the fringes of the Kibera Slum in Nairobi, Kenya, in June of 2006. I had been playing with some of the school children I was working with, and despite the surroundings of one of the worst slums in Africa, excitement abounded. The 2006 soccer World Cup was in full swing, and if you followed it at all you'll remember that the West African country of Ghana was doing unexpectedly well. Kenya, and from what the media seemed to portray, all of Africa as well was ablaze with excitement and support for a fellow African nation. On a continent known for its division, I was struck by this unilateral transformation of identity. Ghana flags were being sold in the streets and flapped from the roofs of passing vehicles. They didn't make it all the way, falling to Brazil just before the Quarter finals. But their strong showing brought a talented team from Africa to the forefront of the International stage.

Fast forward to the summer and fall of 2007 when I found myself on two separate disaster response assignments in South and Central America. My first stop was Peru, where 8.0 magnitude earthquake in August had devastated several southern towns. And yet the football games were not stopped, played in refugee camps by the children or with my team of Peruvian Nationals. I came proudly home with Peru Jersey.

Then on to Nicaragua in October after the Category 5 Hurricane Felix nearly leveled the coastal communities on the Northeastern coast. I took the photo to the left one night after completing a medical clinic in the town of Tuara. Despite the destruction, the game lived on.

And thus my interest in soccer has blossomed. Reading a recent post on Ryan's Blog, I was pleased to see the passion continues in Uganda as well. While I'm not sure of Asia's interest in the game and I know the US has a lot to learn, I'm fascinated by how such a simple activity could have so much relevance in seemingly every corner of the globe. If only the gospel had the appeal of football.