“What’s taking so long for the city to rebuild?” everyone wants to know. “We were here months ago and it looks the same.”
The short answer is everyone’s waiting.
The residents are waiting for their insurance. Waiting for their FEMA trailer. Waiting for it to be hooked up. Waiting for the power to be restored. Waiting for the government to tell them what the requirements for rebuilding will be. Waiting for the other residents to return. Waiting for stores in their area to open. Waiting for employers to hire again. Waiting for volunteers to help gut out their houses and rebuild them.
The governments are waiting for other governments to take the lead. The mayor waits for FEMA and the Corps of Engineers and the governor’s office. The mayor and governors’ offices are waiting for the check to arrive from Congress. Waiting for congressional leaders to come down and see for themselves. Waiting for the White House to return their calls.
The businesses are waiting for the residents to return. Waiting for the power to be restored. Waiting for their SBA loan to be approved. Waiting for their kids’ schools to reopen. Waiting for the neighborhood to return.
The churches are waiting for their insurance checks. Waiting for the neighborhood to be restored. Waiting for the pastors to return. Waiting for a word from Heaven on what they should do.
Everyone is waiting on something or someone.
I’m not sure how many years ago Rob Boyd wrote the following, but it had to have been nearly a decade ago. He was pastoring the First Baptist Church of Clinton, Mississippi, and I clipped his column from their weekly bulletin and kept it in my Bible ever since. Here it is in its entirety.
“What are you waiting for? A sign from God? A telephone call? A perfect situation? If we wait until everything is just right to do something, we will never do anything. I want to encourage you to do something for God this week. Don’t procrastinate, don’t wait, just do something!
“I heard about a farmer who said that lightning struck his old shed and it saved him from having to tear it down. The rain washed his car and saved him from having to wash it. When asked why he wasn’t in the field, he said, ‘I’m waiting for an earthquake to shake my potatoes out of the ground.’
“What are you waiting for? The time to fix the roof is when the sun is shining. One of these days is ‘none of these days.’ I’ve heard it said that whatever sits on the shelf rots, including people. There are no perfect conditions. There are no ideal situations for most things we want to do. If you wait until the conditions are perfect, you may end up like the man who vowed never to marry until he met the perfect girl. When he finally met her, she was waiting for the perfect man!
“What are you waiting for? Step out in faith and trust God to lead you. Abraham didn’t have a destination but he packed up and left home. Moses didn’t know all the details when he walked into Pharaoh’s palace. If you wait until you are totally sure, you will never take off your training wheels.
“I’m convinced that many of us have missed out on the blessings God has planned for us simply because we did not have the faith to attempt something great for Him. Don’t you think it is time to take off our spiritual training wheels and attempt to do something for God? What are you waiting for?”
Imagine with me here a minute
Imagine you own 1,000 houses. Imagine each one was flooded and the contents ruined. Imagine you and three of your best friends are cleaning them out, gutting out the carpet, wallboard, and insulation so the houses can be restored. Imagine it takes a week per house. At fifty houses a year, that figures out to a 20 year project.
Now, imagine you have friends in other places who love you and pray for you and check on you occasionally. They call and say, “How are you doing?” You answer, “Working on house number 4.” They say, “That’s great. So, you’re almost through.” “Nope. 996 to go.” Silence. They’re not quite sure what to do with that figure. It doesn’t compute. “Well,” they finally say, “we’re praying for you.”
Someone from the media calls. “Hey, got any more stories for us?” You answer, “Do you want a story about me cleaning out my houses?” “No,” he answers, “we’ve done that. Got any more stories?” “No. This is my life these days. Cleaning out ruined houses.” “Yeah,” he says, “but we need a new angle. People get tired of reading the same stories all the time.” “Sorry,” you say. “No new angle. No new story. Just more of the same. Thanks for thinking of us, though.”
One year later, a friend calls, “So, you folks getting back to normal yet?” You hesitate, then say, “Working on house number 63. Wanna come help?” Silence. It’s been over a year. Your friend is ready for you to deal with your grief and get past this. You’d like nothing better. But the road is hard, the challenge is massive, the way is long. You’ll be at this for years. “Well,” your friend finally says, “We love you buddy. Keep in touch.”
The media guy calls. “So, how’s it going down there? I hear things are returning to normal.” You say, “You do? Where did you hear that?” He answers, “From your tenants in the houses you restored last year. They’ve moved back in and gotten jobs and are getting on with their lives.” You answer, “The reason they’re saying things are returning to normal is they need customers in their shops. They need tourists to hold conventions. They need business. In a limited way, for them, life is returning to normal. But for the majority of us, life will not be normal for years.”
The media fellow sees your problem and writes a sympathetic story on the long hard road back, about how you are working on a seemingly unending job of restoring your homes. He takes it to the editor. “We can’t run this,” he says. “We did this story last year.” The reporter says, “Yeah, but they still need some exposure. The American people need to know this is an ongoing problem.” “Well, not from us, they don’t,” says the editor. “Find me a new angle on this old story and we’ll run it.”
So much devastation. So little being done. So little guidance from the authorities. A lot of help arrives daily from around the nation, volunteers from churches near and far, thank the Lord. But when they get here, most need help in finding places to stay, take a shower, and eat, and of course, they need someone to show them what to do and where to do it.
When asked, “What do you want people to know about the New Orleans situation?” I answer, “That it’s going to take a long, long time. We’re going to be needing your help and prayers for years.”
It may not be what they want to hear, it is generally met by silence, and it is a depressing thought, I admit. But it’s the truest thing I know to say.
Coupla quick notes from Sunday’s news….
Several of the 23 candidates for mayor have gone on the road. Since so many New Orleanians now live in cities like Houston and Atlanta, they’ve gone there with their forums–they call them debates–seeking the absentee votes of our displaced people
One of the charges leveled at the mayor’s Bring New Orleans Back Commission was that it was trying to keep the poor Blacks from returning. A key recommendation of this group was that certain sections of the city not be restored, but be left as “green space.” Presumably, that was a reference to the Lower 9th Ward. Mayoral candidate Rev. Tom Watson said the other day that when we talk about shrinking the geographic footprint of the city, we ought to acknowledge that it’s not land we’re talking about, but people.
Columnist Jarvis DeBerry responds in an op-ed piece Sunday: “There is not a direct relationship between the size of a place and the number of people who live there. “If that were so, Cameron Parish would have more people than any place else in Louisiana, and Jacksonville, Florida, owing to its gigantic size, would be the most populated city in the United States. And very few people would live in Manhattan. After all, the Big Apple is much smaller than the Big Easy.”
Such clear logic. One hopes it is not wasted on non-thinking politicians who are hyping the rhetoric, playing to people’s fears in hopes of getting their votes.