The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me...
To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.
Isaiah 61:1-3
To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.
Isaiah 61:1-3
Driving through Joplin last week, I was startled by the way in which the landscape had significantly changed over the course of the past month. Mountains of rubble (in many places) are now clean concrete slabs. The trees, mangled with sheet metal and stripped bare, have been taken down. The abandoned carcasses of homes have disappeared one by one, devoured by monstrous machines and deposited in a landfill outside of town. Entire neighborhoods have simply ceased to exist. Wiped away. Wiped clean. Waiting.
For the families who have lost homes, I have heard that this part of the process has been both excruciating and cathartic. For the volunteers who have been helping to clear the rubble and take down trees, the work has been backbreaking and tedious in the ruthless summer heat. For those who were the first to clear their properties, the waiting game for building permits is agonizing and frustrating. Because before you rebuild, you have to tear down. And the tearing down is not yet finished. The work is slow. It hurts. It is hard to see beyond the emptiness. And for a season, we have to live there. In the emptiness, in the void, with the pain. For a season.
The conversation is beginning to turn towards restoration. At an open forum last week, residents were invited to share their vision of the new Joplin. In the paper, I read that one long-time Joplin resident wanted the city to be rebuilt exactly as it was before the storm. Good or bad, there is immense comfort in the familiar, the known, the way it was before. But it will never be the same. It can't be the same. Because in this season of emptiness, with its clean concrete slabs and treeless open fields, a vision will take shape. It will not be like it was before. It will be better. Because death is not the end. Destruction is not the end. The trees, stripped of their bark, stripped of their leaves, stripped of their beauty, will be replanted. The city will be rebuilt.
1 comment:
Szeged's biggest catastrophe, the flood in 1879 that destroyed almost the whole city brought the biggest development with it. The city was rebuilt to be more spacious, more open and friendly, with more useful places for people, like parks, clinics, university, playgrounds and marketplaces. So urge the people of your city for aim for the betterment of the place, which is slow to reach but maybe more than a century later people will celebrate their bravery like I do now here for my city...
Post a Comment