joplin.

(This was written last week, written around 3am, a few days after I found out about the tornado hitting Joplin, a night I couldn't sleep because of Joplin)

We had just finished driving through the night. Just completed a 21 hour drive through southern Namibia and northern South Africa, driving along the western coastline, driving along a variety of terrain with our surfboards strapped to our 4x4. 8:00am we arrive back in Cape Town, home for the 4 men I was traveling with. Cape Town is not my home, South Africa is not my home - 10:00am I sat in awestruck at what was currently happening in my hometown.

I wasn't raised in Joplin, I just spent a little over 4 years there in that small, south-west city. I moved there for college. But it didn't take long for Joplin to become my "home" - my Nebraskan parents even referred to JoMo as my home. And so did, so does my heart. Joplin is where my community is, I learned that city like the back of my hand, I grew there, struggled there, found God there, matured there, found myself there, found family there. I found a home in that mid-western city, tri-state junction.

Today my home is destroyed and I am over 9,500 miles away from it. There is nothing I can do, my hands cannot sort through rubbish and rubble, my arms cannot comfort another, my words cannot soothe pain, my legs cannot walk the barren streets, my eyes cannot see the devastation and destruction, my lungs cannot breathe the tainted oxygen that has been so defiled from the wreckage of materials. Because I am not there, I am not in my home.

I can't imagine what my friends, community, family saw on May 22. I can image the dark billows of clouds rolling in, the winds picking up with rage and envy, the sirens screaming with warning. I can taste the thickness of the air. I can imagine the beginning, because I was raised in tornado alley. I cannot imagine being on Range Line, where the tornado walked, where I drove just a few months ago. I can't imagine the foundations being picked up, thrown and skewed like mere rag dolls. I cannot imagine the fear that would settle in my soul, or the screams that my throat would release. I cannot imagine the place my hometown is now. The desperation among the devastation, the hopelessness among the dis-mantled humanity. I cannot imagine the world my community is now living in - for the world I am living in is now so far separated from my loved ones.

My heart yearns for my loves, for my Joplin, my heart is burning with pain for the hurt that has been planted, my heart is mourning for the loss my community is facing. I feel as if the winds of the tornado stretched from Missouri, pulling out every fiber of my soul, pulling my entire support system out from my beating heart. Joplin, a world of collisions - people collided there - ask anyone who lived there, none of us ever understood how the band of characters formed there, because it was a glorious community we created. Joplin was not just a collision of hot and cold air systems to create a twister turmoil but a collision of cultures to create a unique, grab-ahold-of-you city.

I am so sorry Joplin. So sorry for what you are facing; for the world you are now in, for the collision you now stand in, for what your eyes are seeing, for what your hands are feeling, for what your feet are stepping on, for what your heart is having to bare. I am so sorry I am not there to hold and carry this burden caused by a natural disaster, this burden that has changed lives and will take years to heal.

But I know my Joplin. I know the hearts that roam those scavenged street. And in the midst of that devastation I know the hope is growing, that is flourishing. As easily as I can see the on-coming of a tornado I can just as easily see the unification that is forming. The stand my community is taking, the hope they are spreading, the healing they are giving. I can see the beauty of the hearts that are joining together to fight, to survive among the rolling rubbish. I can see it clearly, even 9,500 miles away.

When the rain is blowing, when the whole world is watching, I hope you feel my embrace. I will hold you every second of everyday, through the only arms I can. Through arms of prayer. I hope you feel Jesus. I hope you feel my love, His love. The storms have raged and will return, the winds have changed and the clouds have stayed. But sitting in the debris of the world's petrified perversion there lies a sacred society. But in the midst of the turmoil of the trials of the world, take heart and feel His overcoming love. Take hold of His relentless love, relentless healing. He's coming to the ground to sing a lullaby to you, his beloved. I am beckoning to the King of Kings on your behalf. I am shedding tears for you, I am begging the messiah to give grace to His beloved Joplin.

Take Heart Joplin - This is not the end, but a brand new beginning. Find Hope in the rubbish, for He lays there, waiting to heal you.



(like I said I wrote this on the 24th of May and now it is June - this is the truth of my heart - but even in the short period of from the day I wrote this to today. I don't think I even imagined the unification that Joplin would incorporate when resurrected Joplin. The people, the hearts have come together, binded together to fight - to bring healing. I still want to be there, I am still hurting over the destruction and longing to bring a helping hand - but I have so much confidence, and peace in my heart today. Because my Joplin, my community has prevailed - and in the midst of the storm they have brought the sun.)