Memories, life can still be found amidst changes

I found this article in the 2/24/06 edition of the SunHerald and wanted to share it (just wish I could copy and paste!) It was written by Kandi Anderson.


This feels a bit more like normal to me. Writing and talking with you. It's been awhile. Lots of things have been on hold for a whole bunch of folks.

For one thing, I didn't think I was going to get to see my grandchildren on my home turf for quite awhile. They were petrified fhat the storm of six months ago was still swirling around the Coast. In a way they were right, something's still swirling down South all right.

Swirling in the long lines seems to be a bit more patience. You think I'm kidding?

My husband and I stood in a fairly short line of about four people deep in North Mississippi only to hear, "Can you believe this? Why don't they open another register?"

Four deep would have been heaven on the Coast.

I have a theory. We're getting used to waiting. Funny how you learn a thing like patience. It just gets "tried" a lot before we get it, y'all.

Swirling in the comments of many is a sense of contentment, a kind of "come what may" kind of sentiment.

I was hoping to help someone with the arrangements of a camper. The person from out-of-state offering the camper was deeply concerned that things might not work out. They didn't want the hopeful recipient to be disappointed. I said, "Not to worry she's been FEMAtized." She's one of the many who have learned "expectant contentment."

Swirling in the air along with the debris seems to be sense of new found concern for people we had somehow overlooked before.

Maybe we thought them too poor, too rich, too something and we dismissed them as "different." Somehow because of the debris and the loss, the bridge of suffering and kindness has brought many of us together. We work together, cry together, sing together and worship together. Thank you, Lord.

Swirling in ourselves seems to be an identity crisis.

A lady walked into the room where I was the other day and commented as she looked directly at me, "Nope, that's not Kandi Anderson." Not 24 hours later the UPS man told me I needed to get back to work at the computer store. I've never worked a that store. Who am I?

Who are a bunch of us? Our addresses have changed, our jobs are different or gone, our memories are coming from the new ones we are making.

Remember it is not the job or our stuff that distinguishes our personhood. But it is sure helps this ol' gal when I recall that the Lord knows who we are and He has not forgotten us. I've found that my identity is safe in Him and He always stands ready to make all things new.

So, swirling through the hearts of those who rest on their faith is the truth, "the joy of the Lord is my strength."

My grandchildren have visited and have found that the winds of Katrina have passed, but our lives will forever swirl with winds and waters of the changes she wrought.

I leave you this our first visit in many months with a scripture.

"...And if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters ner fail."

"Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls." Isaiah 58: 10-12