One Shovel Full at a Time
Monday afternoon I helped bag up insulation that had been torn out of a house in Pearlington. For a while there, the more we worked the bigger the pile looked. That feeling of working and working and working only to see the pile get bigger is pretty well representative of the overall situation on the Gulf Coast right now.
If you read the Pearlington Recover Center blog, you can see that there are several recent posts that allude to rising frustrations. I'm sure it's not hard to imagine the tension level felt by people who have been displaced all year, living in very diminished conditions on their own properties, and who still see no real end in sight. Add to that organizations facing a situation like nothing they've ever dealt with before, necessitating a kind of make-up-the-rules-as-we-go operating procedure in which nobody really knows what they've been promised or what they can expect. Add to that volunteers suffering from heat exhaustion and raw nerves. Add to that the fact that everyone's story is so traumatic and so heart-wrenching that even small groups of volunteers have trouble agreeing where their resources will best be put to use. Add to that the fact that the harder you work, the bigger the pile gets. I could go on, but I think the point is made.
Life is hard in Pearlington. I worked with some very wonderful people--Mack, Erin, and Caroline--who had driven down from North Carolina to help. Mack is a pastor, and when we started talking about mission trips to other countries and comparing them to Pearlington, he said, "I've been to a lot of places, and this is as rustic as any of them."
I made it two days for my first week of work as a volunteer in Pearlington. I may go back tomorrow, but unless I am called and asked to come to do a specific task, I'll probably wait until Monday. I have responsibilities at home, and I need to pace myself. I need to rest, regroup, soak it all in, and work up the energy to go again.
It's hard. Everything is hard. The living conditions are primitive. It's hot. The bugs are terrible. The work that needs to be done is physically demanding. And the job isn't finished without sitting down to talk to the family, and every family has a story to tell that will just use up every emotion you have to offer.
But I'm going back next week and the week after that and the week after that and as much as I can manage all summer without wearing myself out to the point that I can't take care of the rest of my life.
As hard as everything is in Pearlington, every day is a very unique and rich experience. The people are incredible. The volunteers, the locals, they are all worth getting to know. They are all very special to my heart. And every day in Pearlington there are things that I can do that I know are of real help to people in real need. Every day that we keep raising money and keep working on houses and keep listening to people's stories is another shovel full off the pile. It may take a very long time, but if we just keep going, we'll see that pile get smaller.
God bless the families who've lost their homes and their livelihoods and everything about the world as they knew it. God bless the volunteers who've given so much time and money and energy to help these good people of my home state. God bless Pearlington.
If you read the Pearlington Recover Center blog, you can see that there are several recent posts that allude to rising frustrations. I'm sure it's not hard to imagine the tension level felt by people who have been displaced all year, living in very diminished conditions on their own properties, and who still see no real end in sight. Add to that organizations facing a situation like nothing they've ever dealt with before, necessitating a kind of make-up-the-rules-as-we-go operating procedure in which nobody really knows what they've been promised or what they can expect. Add to that volunteers suffering from heat exhaustion and raw nerves. Add to that the fact that everyone's story is so traumatic and so heart-wrenching that even small groups of volunteers have trouble agreeing where their resources will best be put to use. Add to that the fact that the harder you work, the bigger the pile gets. I could go on, but I think the point is made.
Life is hard in Pearlington. I worked with some very wonderful people--Mack, Erin, and Caroline--who had driven down from North Carolina to help. Mack is a pastor, and when we started talking about mission trips to other countries and comparing them to Pearlington, he said, "I've been to a lot of places, and this is as rustic as any of them."
I made it two days for my first week of work as a volunteer in Pearlington. I may go back tomorrow, but unless I am called and asked to come to do a specific task, I'll probably wait until Monday. I have responsibilities at home, and I need to pace myself. I need to rest, regroup, soak it all in, and work up the energy to go again.
It's hard. Everything is hard. The living conditions are primitive. It's hot. The bugs are terrible. The work that needs to be done is physically demanding. And the job isn't finished without sitting down to talk to the family, and every family has a story to tell that will just use up every emotion you have to offer.
But I'm going back next week and the week after that and the week after that and as much as I can manage all summer without wearing myself out to the point that I can't take care of the rest of my life.
As hard as everything is in Pearlington, every day is a very unique and rich experience. The people are incredible. The volunteers, the locals, they are all worth getting to know. They are all very special to my heart. And every day in Pearlington there are things that I can do that I know are of real help to people in real need. Every day that we keep raising money and keep working on houses and keep listening to people's stories is another shovel full off the pile. It may take a very long time, but if we just keep going, we'll see that pile get smaller.
God bless the families who've lost their homes and their livelihoods and everything about the world as they knew it. God bless the volunteers who've given so much time and money and energy to help these good people of my home state. God bless Pearlington.
posted by Sharon Gerald | 6:50 PM
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