week 13, post 1 -- the work of the Spirit

When I first came here, I intended to do counseling -- that's all. But I quickly came to see that what was needed was something that would last, and that the counseling be part of something bigger, more comprehensive. As the awareness of that emerged, I also began to meet people who could/would be part of that something bigger. Courtney Pellegrin, a very dynamic young woman from this area, has all the right qualities for leadership: a passion to serve her people, a deep connection to these communities, administrative skills and a body young enough to work hard for long periods. Elaine Savoie, a local housewife and businesswoman, has worked tirelessly doing direct care of victims/evacuees since day one. She has a gift for the "infantry," doing face to face casework with people in need. So a mission and a team are emerging: to launch and sustain "community care centers" down each bayou. These will do prenatal care, early childhood education, low-tech medical care and outpatient drug/alcohol treatment and counseling. I'll post a couple of pics of the team.

And I want to leave you with a quote from one of my favorite poets, Wendell Berry:

"Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy."
Wendell Berry

week 12, post 5 -- Cajun Gourmet

I have learned that Cajuns rarely eat out. If they do so, they rarely go to Cajun/seafood restaurants. When I've dined out with Cajuns, I often hear the comment regarding the delicious food we're having: "I (or my dad)can do better at home." It is common for Cajun men to take great pride in their cooking -- a practice entirely confusing to me. The other night, Mr Darrell whipped up a pot of "Poisson Rouge en Sauce Piquant." (Redfish in Red(Marinara) Sauce) No big deal to Mr. Darrell -- it was "to die for." I'm beginning to understand.

week 12, post 4 -- tragedy and compassion in action

Yesterday afternoon I received some very bad news from Cindy, our host: George's trailer home, positioned next to mine on their property, had caught fire and burned. Everything George owned, except for his car, was destroyed. That evening I went back home and saw it for myself. Heartbreaking. I went by the little baptist church, where the mennonites were staying to do their relief work, and told them about it.

At 8:15 this morning a van load and two pickups of the mennonite work crew arrived ready to help. Ignoring the swarming, biting gnats, they pitched into their work and had the area cleaned up as well as possible by 8:40. These compassionate people, conservative and traditional in their personal lifestyles, are wonderfully liberal in their practice of tolerance, kindness and generosity. They steadfastly refuse to allow "conservative" to mean greedy, bigoted and intolerant, as it has so often come to mean in American life.

Once again, my hat is off to the Mennonites. I will post a picture or two of George's trailer. I was unable to get a photo of the Mennonites at work, but I suppose that is OK; they were not there to gain praise or recognition. Please pray for George; this kind of loss really hurts.

Peace, Warren

week 12, post 3 Goin' fishin'?

One of my fishing friends here, James, will undergo surgery soon. So he's putting his bass boat up for sale to help with expenses. Want to buy a boat? Know someone who does? It would be about a $17,000 rig new, but it has a little age, but it's in excellent condition. He's asking $5k. A great deal. It has a recently re-done Mariner 150 on the back -- runs like a bat out of Bartlesville. Let me know. Peace, Warren.

week 12, post 2 Happy Valentine's Day

I went to the Y again today to work out and shower. Whenever I go, I always forget something; a towel or washcloth, soap, etc. Today it was fresh underwear. So there was a choice I had to make. Some people think that this way of dressing oneself is very sexy. In my case, I suspect it's just old and pitiful. Sigh.

In celebration of Valentine's day, I want to share this brief meditation sent to me by a friend in Kansas:

"Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love."
Delmore Schwartz

Thank you, Delmore, and thanks to my friend. May we all grow in courage -- and live dangerously!

I'm posting a couple of photos. We're at work at my host's to raise the house -- to the required minimum of 12' above ground. Pilings have been placed, and now we're pouring the concrete for the footings of the pilings. We poured six bags of concrete for one piling on Sunday. I'll continue to post pictures as we progress.

Peace, Warren

week 12, post 1

Yesterday was a busy day:
I preached in the morning at the local Southern Baptist church. I preached from the lectionary text and used a prayer of Thomas Merton in the sermon; an unusual experience for the little church "down da bayou." I trust it went ok -- at least they didn't drag me out and throw me in the bayou! That afternoon I got busy with my host and another friend and we continued work toward raising the house: we went and bought a pallet of concrete (30 bags) and poured six bags of it to make a footing for one of the pilings that will support the house 15 feet in the air when we've finished. only 66 bags to go... That evening, I did counseling with a young couple at the local nondenominational pentecostal church.

I'll post some pictures of the house raising in the weeks to come.

It's been cold and rainy here -- a mixed blessing. No mosquitos or no-see-ums. But it's pretty nippy in the camper at night, and it got pretty wet. Hard driving rains just go right through the seams of the canvas. People worry and ask if I get cold at night. No, I have a decent quality sleeping bag, and when it gets really cold, I cover that with this old quilt my mom made before I was born. Heavy as a stove but wonderfully warm. Only my nose gets cold at night. I'm ok.

We've started building a team here and are working toward something that will last well after I'm gone. Elaine does a lot of casework, helping families do all the paperwork and other tasks related to recovery. Courtney is helping to do research related to launching four community care facilities -- one down each of the four bayous not yet served by such an institution. We will do low-tech medical care, have a christian pre-school, do pastoral counseling and build programs to reduce teen dropout rates from school.

I'm very hopeful.
Peace, Warren

week 11, post 3: broken promises, disturbing trends

Elaine and I sat in Miss Alice's office, lamenting the frustrations of the bayou people we serve: A guaranteed recipe to make people crazy is to break your promises to them. The people here are ready to go -- to put their houses back in order and go on with their lives. Small numbers of volunteers from all over the country are here and ready to help. Only the residents lack the check from their insurance companies, their checks from FEMA, and a decision from FEMA and the parish government about how high their houses must be raised (too low and they can't be insured). Once again, FEMA is the worst epithet that can be uttered down here. It is (still) the living embodiment of governmental incompetence and dishonesty. Broken promises abound. Think your insurance company is really interested in protecting you? Better have an attorney read your policies -- now -- before you need them. It's depressing.

Today at the YMCA I observed a large, older woman and the petite, slender desk attendant in conversation. The older woman was giving away biscuits -- to the young attendant. The woman acknowledged in her rich, melodic Cajun accent that she just couldn't make a small recipe -- she'd raised nine kids after all. I love the accents (there are several Cajun accents, depending on which bayou you're from, or if you're from, God forbid, up by Lafayette or over by Lake Charles). I'm just starting to hear the nuances, and I enjoy them a lot.

I've noticed two disturbing trends in my activity lately: not getting my exercise and working on my day off. I strained a muscle in my back today at the Y and can't do what I'd been doing for months. Bummer. But more a matter of concern is that it means I'm slipping back into a midwestern value set -- and abandoning Cajun-ness. Aiee!

week 11, post 2

Rockin' down da bayou...
Some of you may have noticed that NOLA and this area had another round of bad weather Wednesday evening. Thunderstorms were especially bad, and resulted in some tornadoes in the vicinity of the NOLA airport. There may have been some in my area, also. High winds and very heavy, driving rains made for a memorable night in the camper. There was rocking and roaring with the winds. I thought several times, "There's no way I could hear a tornado coming...it already sounds like one right now." I was not sure several times if the camper would remain upright and in one piece, but it did. The rain went right through the canvas and got things wet, including my pillow, but I was ok. Just not a lot of sleeping in a mess like that... Morning found my trailer in the middle of a small pond, mud everywhere, with a narrow causeway from my door to the truck. The Pointe aux Chenes road had a telephone pole tipped at about 45%, supported by the wires. I saw several beautiful cedars blown down on the way into town. Sad. Wish I had my lathe down here....
When they realized the next morning how bad it had been, my hosts remonstrated gently that I had not sought safety and comfort in their FEMA trailer. They care a great deal and they are very protective. But who wants to cross 100 yards of open ground in the night in that...?
What I need to note is that, bad as it was, it was nothing compared to a hurricane or even a tropical storm. Like many real traumas, there are things we just don't want to know. But, now that I'm ok -- it would have made a nice Survivor or Fear thing segment -- shows I never bother to watch. I have my own adventures. But sometimes, brave fishermen ride these things out in awfully small boats....
"Lord, my craft is so small, and the sea is so great." "Peace, be still."

Here are the pictures -- hopefully

week 11, post 1

Springtime Comes to the Bayous
Courtney, Terrence and I were on our way to Grand Isle, moving quickly down the road beside a bayou when Terrence announced, "I just saw an alligator!" I wheeled the truck around and we went back...Sure enough, there it was, in the water, still as a log but with nostrils, eyes and tail -- all five feet (or so)of it. My first LA gator. Later down the road, we saw four or five turtles sunning themselves on the bank. Springtime has come to the bayou.
Later, at Grand Isle, a client and I wrestled with demons and monsters from his past as formidable as the alligator. The session was intense. The man wants free from damaging memories as tenacious and destructive as any jaws of a bayou monster. Pray for us.
This evening, I will begin work with a young couple, referred by a pentecostal pastor down bayou Pointe aux Chenes.
The work is slowly growing.
Earlier this week, Courtney, her mother, her friend and I had visited the community of Dulac, down Bayou du Large. We met more saints -- insturments of Christ's peace who are pouring out their lives in service -- Alice and her husband Rock. They came here as volunteers from Texas several years ago, after hurricane Andrew (people mark time here by hurricanes). Then they came back and have never left. Alice is now the director of the Dulac Community Center, a United Methodist institution.
Sometimes Love is as tenacious and powerful as the jaws of a gator, too...
I've posted a pictures of Alice, with Courtney, mom and friend. I've also posted a picture of volunteers -- from Michigan and elsewhere, who are here to help. Thank God for all of them.
I hope to post again tomorrow or very soon -- about last night's storms.
Peace, Warren